The afternoon after the Aurora shooting, I was called to the home of a hospice patient who was getting closer to death. He'd asked to see me and my husband one more time. The living room was full of family that had gathered from all over the country to be here for their Dad, their grandfather. Albert was laying in bed, sharing stories, laughing at the stories that his children told on him, though he was very weak. I watched as his children wrapped him in blankets and carried him to the bathroom. I watched as they gently laid him back down, wrapping him up again as he'd gotten the shivers. One son crawled into bed with his Dad, Birkenstocks and all, and wrapped his body around his father's frail, shivering body, holding him as tenderly as a child. He whispered into his father's ear, kind of rocking their joined bodies back and forth on the bed, like a mother singing a lullaby. The tragic pictures of the morning news were distant, an aberration of what is real and holy and good. I stood motionless, gifted with this image of intimacy, pure love, and God-stuff.
This is who we are at our best, I thought. This is an image of Christ, right here. Albert was calm and comfortable, had no pain. His sons and daughter were simply helping him with his journey home, like kind midwives bringing forth new life. Dying isn't easy. But it's so much better when you are surrounded by love, by incarnations of the love you've given in this life. Clearly Albert did a good job with his kids. They weren't afraid. They were ready for him to go see his beloved Lucy, who had died 4 years ago. It was right and good that they be together again. They were there for the duration, and they would love him, hold him, and whisper soothing words in his ear to help him on the journey. God was saturating that room.
I hear people speak of how we as Americans need to be armed to protect ourselves. Sweet Jesus, that's all we need, more guns! More death. I'm embarrassed to call myself a Christian most days. We just don't listen to Jesus, we don't even try to do what he taught. Can you picture Jesus with a gun? Can you picture Jesus gunning down those Roman guards and running for his life? Of course not. I don't know the answers. I don't know how to stop the violence, but I don't think the answer is more violence. And if you believe in more violence, then please don't drag God into it. Jesus said, "Blessed are the peacemakers..." "Love one another..." "You have heard an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, but I say, pray for your enemies..." That's absurd! Of course it is! But don't align yourself with Jesus unless you're willing to align yourself with his absurd teachings. God knows that that shooter will have to pay for what he did, but I don't believe God wants us to pay with our souls by becoming just like him and spreading the violence and death.
Let us mourn together. Let us hold each other and pray for our country, our children, our leaders, and the many people who have such violence in their souls for whatever reason. Let's cultivate peace. Let's be absurdly loving and gentle and kind. Let's speak words of peace. Let's cry through our grief and pray for a better, kinder world. Let's stop seeking to take an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, for as Ghandi says, it only leaves the world blind and toothless.
I keep remembering Albert and his children, and the legacy of tenderness in a violent world. I still tear up when I think of his son wrapping his body around his father to help him through the scary parts. It is in places like that that I find God.
