I’ve been planning on writing this blog since I first saw the headline about the earthquake in Haiti last Tuesday morning. Somehow, anything that I had to say didn’t seem adequate enough (and still isn’t), so I remained quiet. John Carl updated his blog today. His insight and heart never ceases to amaze me. As usual, his words really resonated with me, and helped me put a lot of what I have been thinking and feeling the past week into words, albeit failing ones. Before you continue reading here, I suggest you follow the link to his blog. Much of what I want to say begins there.
When I first heard the news about the earthquake that devastated Haiti, a country already devastated by poverty, governmental corruption, and non-existent natural resources, I felt sorry for the people, I wondered why it happened, I even immediately donated ten dollars to the Red Cross, but I never once felt a sense of solidarity with those who were suffering a boat ride away. Empathy was nowhere to be found.
The next day, I moved from slight feelings of sympathy and confusion to anger. Not anger at the situation. And certainly not anger at Haiti. I was angry with Pat Robertson for comments he made about the Haitian people (If you don’t know what I’m referring to here you go http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z0VLrZlfPZY ). No, I wasn’t just angry with Pat Robertson. I was angry with Pat Robertson and every other extreme Christian fundamentalist that ever directed his ignorance at people who didn’t look, believe and behave just as he did. I had my knock out, theological punch ready for ol’ Pat. “Every idle word which we think so little of betrays our lack of respect for our neighbor and shows that we place ourselves on a pinnacle above him and value our own lives higher than his” (Bonhoeffer). Then, I realized I was being extreme. And ignorant. And hypocritical. And damn.
Thursday night there was a collective prayer service at the Wesley Foundation for Haiti. Maybe it was the power of collective prayer. Maybe it was the silence and freedom from all distraction coming before the Father at a complete loss for words and action. Regardless of what it was, for the first time my heart began to actually break for Haiti (so much that I called Mom and begged her to adopt a Haitian baby, but that’s another story…). And for America. And for all of the people in the world who are unjustly suffering in whatever capacity that may be. And thanks be to God.
Slowly it began to dawn on me, even though I’ve always known and felt this but somehow temporarily had forgotten it, that we all breathe the same air. We all let look at the same sun and let it’s warmth and brightness flood our faces. We all gaze into the same nighttime sky and find ourselves in a place far away from whatever troubles we face. It’s when we remember these things that we have the capacity to feel each other’s pain and joy. It’s when we remember these things that we are able to join in solidarity with one another despite dichotomies of countries, cultures, theologies or ideologies.
That brings us to today. Today, I was on Facebook and saw the following status of a friend:
“Haiti is without a government. To help out, I'm donating one Obama, one Pelosi, one Reid, one Frank, one Coakley, and two Clintons! They may keep them permanently and keep the change! I'd give them a Constitution; but I can't find mine right now!”
