THE WORLD IN WHICH WE LIVE

I live near a major city plagued by violence. It could be one of a hundred places across the country, perhaps even where you live. A city where every night, reporters repeat the same script that another precious life has been snatched away.

The images of crying mothers, and distraught families demanding justice flash across the screen. Their tears flickering in the moments like a staccato burst of emotion, here and then gone. Countless city fathers, standing behind the safety of their podiums, cluck their tongues that something must be done. Gaze into their faces and you can see how tired they are of wasting their breath, shouting into the gale-force winds of man’s inhumanity to man. Their eyes betray their deep inner belief that the battle is too great, the resources too few, and the world too numb to make a difference. This is the world in which we live.

I live near a city where many people do not have adequate drinking water, where years of neglect have produced such deplorable living conditions that poverty and hunger are the constant shadows of the soul. Drive through these flooded streets whose gutters are filled with debris, where runoff and sewage seep under doorways, soaking carpets, sending a stench of neglect into the nostrils. Multigenerational families huddle behind the shuttered windows, having to make decisions between having food or keeping warm. Luxuries like medicines are pushed aside because the babies must be fed.

The educational opportunities children receive are slim at best. Teachers struggle to teach. Schools struggle to stay open. Students struggle to survive the walk to school. And when these precious children arrive at mold-infested classrooms that drip sour rainwater onto their desks of learning, it is easy to understand the lack of desire to be taught anything. This environment of injustice produces a tension that seethes just below the surface of the skin, a weariness of waiting for change that everyone knows will never come. This is the world in which we live.

I live near a city where those who have the power will stop at nothing to keep it, and those who are disenfranchised and vulnerable will not stop until they secure it. In this battle of wills, like the sweet nectar of a full-bodied wine, the evil of the human heart rises. The sticky sweetness of injustice and indifference trickles down, spilling over the lips, staining the hands with a permanence that cannot be easily washed away. Again and again, these power-hungry players lift the chalice and drink freely from the wine, never realizing the poisoning of their souls.

As the rancidness of daily living grows, young teens discover a powerful reality. They feel most alive when they press the muzzle of a gun against another man’s temple. The adrenalin rush of being able to be God, to take away every dream in an instant is literally to touch the divine. Every heartbeat. Every potential. Every purpose. Gone. Like the pop, pop, pop of a handgun, death comes and life ends. The simple squeeze of a trigger, the splatter of blood and brain, as the smoke rises from the muzzle, these intoxicate the senses. These are the holy moments of euphoria better than any drug could offer.

This is the world in which we live.

I live near a city where people do not understand the value of human life. Their own. Others. Anyone. It is not just the players for power who are to blame, but the witnesses of the war are just as guilty. We place our heads on our pillows, resting in the knowledge that violence and death are our neighbor’s companions and not ours. We secretly thank God that the bullets have bounced off of someone else’s baby, taken someone else’s peace of mind, ruined someone else’s life. The chaos clouding our minds gets pushed out as easily as if we were taking out the garbage. We know that to get involved, to speak up, to do something kind and right for others will only invite the undue attention of demons we do not want to face. Before long, our indifference becomes the anthem of our lives, even while there is a nagging sense that every verse we sing brings the hate closer. Something wicked this way comes. Our flesh feels it.

Of course, we put on a good show. We wring our hands, attend block parties, and wonder aloud what can be done. We cry and mourn with our neighbors. Agree with others that there is a problem. We talk about how more resources should be committed to the cause. We wear shirts with slogans. We repeat the pious platitudes of politicians. And then in a symbolic act of a helpless community, we watch balloons float above us until like our hopes, they disappear from the sky. As we go back home, we try to forget the hell of our existence.

This is the world we live in.

I live in a city where I know that the ideals of life and love replacing hate and violence must begin within me. I must teach myself before I can teach others. I must recognize my capacity to stoke the fires of indifference and ignorance. I must stare into the desolations that my own heart is capable of; its ability to make snap judgments, to shout over the voices I disagree with, to ignore the plights of others. This year, I vow to be kinder to my family and my neighbor. More inclusive. More open to dialogue. More willing to be authentic. My heart must begin to bleed the truth. And as I stand bruised and battered by the realization that I am just as responsible for these acts of violence as anyone else, I will find the strength to love my neighbor as much as I love myself. Until I have made a difference in my own heart, I cannot make a difference in the world in which I live.

I live in a city where for all of this to happen, the risk of failure needs to be replaced with the treasure of the reward. Dignity, prosperity, life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness are the pearls of great price, the essentials of society and they are worthy of our entire sacrifice. Our founding fathers understood this. Great leaders like Dr. King and others died for this. We bear their legacy when we take up the mantles of change and move ever closer to the promised land.

To be sure, fighting injustice on a personal level is hard, and fighting it on a community level is even harder. But if we are true to this noble cause, and see it through to the end, we will live in a world free of division, with equal opportunities for all. We will rest in a land where the lion can lay with the lamb, and semi-automatics handguns are beaten into plowshares. This is the world I dream of. This is the world I vow to create - beginning today.