Meditation by Rev. Diane Rollert, 11 January 2015
Oh God with whom I have lost touch,
Oh Spirit of Life,
Oh source of solace that we each know by a different name,
Every day there are injustices that remain unseen, unheard,
that do not touch us,
and yet cry out for us to bear witness.
Then there are the days, the weeks,
when we stand together in shock
at the senseless taking of lives,
that becomes so public,
that has us transfixed,
that has no reason,
that fills us with its brutality,
that reminds us how much
our own lives hang by a thin and fragile thread.
This web of life breaks so easily.
The artist and the writer,
the lost and disaffected youth
wake up one morning
to face the day.
One walks into the office,
on a day like any other,
the other takes up his weapons.
Surely this cannot be what any god demands:
Lives lost, families disconnected,
whole communities living in fear
for no good reason.
wipes away the plaster dust and blood
and begins again.
But does it rise with self-examination?
The answers will come slowly if at all.
For now let us simply grieve
all the lives lost,
the children who
have lost their parents' touch,
who will live on with constant regret,
the families, friends,
colleagues and communities
who shed tears,
who are held in this fragile web.
May we pray for healing,
May we live maladjusted to the world’s injustices,
Hoping for greater understanding
that can bring us to a place of nonviolence
that will find a way to end
the emptiness and hopelessness
that lead to violence.
May we pray for peace
in our hearts,
in our cities,
in our world.