The Price We Pay

Like oil dripping down Aaron’s beard, in the wake of the loss of life we have faced in the past few weeks, prayer is a healing balm to our city.

Where else can we go for the answers to the complex questions life begs than at the feet of the Almighty? Limited in understanding the differential between our knowledge and the actions of Providence is a billion light years apart.

Our culture is unusual in that we are surprised by suffering in contrast to others in antiquity who expected life to be a journey often filled with sorrow and pain. It is to us, as we bow our heads in prayer and contemplation, to embrace hope and promise rising up out of the ashes. As Reynolds Price wrote in Letter to a Man in a Fire:

Poets more ancient than Aeschylus have hymned the awful paradox that humankind can apparently only advance through suffering; but no one has cut that paradox in deeper letters than Aeschylus—“It is God’s law that he who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep, pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despite, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God.”

Our community shares in this paradox in that all too often it takes sorrow to provoke change. The entire advocacy, collision of statistics and evidence arguments are tossed on the garbage heap of agendas as we come together in solidarity (sadly, a rare moment) of mourning with a renewed commitment to act rather than debate.

But as Aeschylus notes, we must learn, despite our cultural predication, not to allow history to rear its ugly head in repetition. We should not wait for the next horror to act. It should not be over despair that we find common ground and the motivation to set aside constituency and particular interests for the sake of the greater good.

A child will meet with our chief legislator and I pray that it is the adult who follows, for it is the call of great leaders to be willing to be led often by the ‘least of them.’ In our case, the least of these are our children who are rarely asked for their opinion while we the adults argue and shape policy around them.

The past is our seer. If we ignore the wisdom in the foresight then our future will continue to be marred by the circumstances of our current awfulness—it is the price we pay.

The lesson goes well beyond skaters and kids on bikes. It is the young ladies who roam our streets filled with anger and hate just looking for the oppportunity to express it. The proliferation of youth involved in gangs throughout the city and the alarming recruitment of younger children who just may find themselves in the cross fire of a rivalry. It is the growing number of homeless young ones in the face of a turbulent economy and the disenfranchised little boys and girls of fractured families who find another 'family' in the lair of  those who exploit them.

If change is to have a cost then let it not be 'drop by drop upon the heart' at yet another prayer vigil. Let it be born through the legislator who will toss his or her stipend into the donation cup for a new park. From the city worker who will forsake overtime pay to help pay for equipment. To the department head who will trim his or her budget to help create a bigger recreation budget and the resident who will forsake a few hours of time for self for a few hours of volunteer time for others. To the school board member who has the courage to give up an asset because it is an investment into hope. The business owner who redefines business as a life line to our youth rather than focusing on the 'bottom line.' For the non-profit to stop competing for dwindlinig dollars and start collaborating because of dwindling opportunities for our youth.To the mayor who could embrace change rather than staying the course and the activist who could extend the hand of reconciliation rather than deepening the divide.

The burden is upon us all.