Human Dignity (122/365)

I feel thoughtful today, and my heart feels heavy.  The reports of gallivanting, celebrating crowds are distressing.  I don't feel jubilant at the news of Bin Laden's death; I feel distressed.  

I don't see what there is to celebrate from a practical standpoint, as Osama anticipated, even welcomed, his death (or his martyrdom, as he saw it) and was surely training others to take his place. 

I don't see what there is to rejoice in from a spiritual or moral standpoint. How can my heart rejoice in anyone's death?  If I don't rejoice in the death of the innocent or the death of heroes, why rejoice in the death of a sinner?  Why exult in anyone's (assumed, not assured) damnation?

The only reason to celebrate is out of vengeance, and I don't believe that's worth celebrating.  Vengeance is satisfying - it feels like justice.  Reveling in vengeance is tempting and instinctual, but as humans we have the capacity and the grace to train our hearts for compassion and to leave vengeance behind.

My best friend emailed me first thing this morning. She said the whole thing made her wonder what kind of world we're trying to create. My own question is a little nuance of that: HOW do we think we're creating the world we want?  Do we think we can sow violence and reap peace (to use a cliché)?  You know that saying about television, "The medium is the message?"  I think with peacebuilding, the method is the vision.  Can we approach our policy as the work of peacemaking itself, instead peace as the end, achieved through any means necessary? I hope that we can come to see that we ARE creating our world with each action, so if we want peace, we have to ACT peace all along the way.

This wasn't the picture I was looking for today.  It was so overcast, and I felt so overcast.  But I came across this scene on my way home tonight.  There was that group of friends staying to laugh and talk — just a little bit longer! — in the mist.  A boy slouched on a post, deep in a cell phone conversation, talking urgently.  A couple stood at the edge of the sidewalk, turned just a little bit in toward each other, and waited for their cab.  They looked exhausted.  There was a crush of people streaming from the subway.  In the background the fountain glowed green and hummed.  It seemed to be asking us to celebrate the people around us.  

Celebrate it!  There's so much life, so much good in humanity, this broken, redeemed, saved race.

This fall I was stuck in infernal traffic on my way to City Where the Water Bends. I needed to pick up an order of cupcakes before the bakery closed, and time was ticking away. "Damn it all!" I swore aloud, and immediately and urgently repented.  I've never shaken the fear I got when I was small and we asked our catechist why "damn" was a swear word.  She told us that when we wish damnation on someone it's our own souls that are in danger.

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This is what we pray in every decade of the Rosary:

O My Jesus, forgive us our sins, save us from the fires of Hell, and lead all souls to Heaven, especially those most in need of Thy mercy.

Amen! Come, Lord Jesus! Come, Holy Spirit, and dwell in the hearts of your people!