Loving Through The Hurt - A Reflection on Boston

"You have heard that it was said, 'an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,'

But I say to you, do not resist an evil person;

but whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other to him.

You have hear that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy,'

But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you."

- Matthew 5: 38, 39, 43, 44

     Many of you know me as the loud girl, who loves to use her words for everything, but especially advocacy and justice, and who will not be silenced. (Ironically, as I write, "So It Goes" by Billy Joel is playing on my playlist and he is singing about silence...) You know me as a passionate young woman with many advocacies but the truth is, all those advocacies fall under Social Justice. And while I see that our country has a beautiful "justice system," I question the usage of the word "justice." 

    In the last week, I, along with my fellow Americans, watched the Terror befall the streets of Boston during a most prestigious marathon and the fight for what we call justice. One week ago today, I woke up to my phone going off with notifications about the Boston Marathon Bombings. I felt my heart become overwhelmed with sadness and fear, just as it had on the day of the Sandy Hook shootings not too long ago. The first thing I always want to do is hear the voices of my parents and my little sisters, just to make sure they are okay. In both cases, none of my family was near Sandy Hook or Boston, but still there is a panic that goes through my system and I worry about them. These events remind us that we are never sure what could possibly happen. 

    As I watched the news unfold Monday night at work (the motherhouse sisters can attest to the fact that this was the one sole time I ever watched the TV at work), I was struck by the phrase, "We had no inclining that this was going to happen." The Marathon was staffed by numerous first responders in the case that any participant needed help and to keep the running route safe. Not a single one of those first responders expected to go to the Marathon and end up dealing with a triple bombing. Not a single one of those runners expected the ground to shake out beneath them or to be leaving that day a physically changed person. When you run a marathon, you don't expect terror to ensue. When you work a marathon, you don't expect a bomb to go off during the race. It was not expected, it was not planned on, it was not a normal day therefore and will go down in history. 

    I continued to watch the news until it seemed that everything being said was already said. I found myself exploring social media and the internet for more information. I, just like every other single person in the United States, wanted information. Who was hurt? What was being down to help? How many people? Was it an act of terrorism? Was it an accidental explosion? Who was responsible....? In searching the internet, I didn't find any of that information. Instead, I found pictures of the heroes of the day, tweets from the Red Cross telling the world how many runners kept running straight to the hospital to give blood; facebook posts praising the first responders AND the civilian heroes. I was so proud of my country. I am a product of America, an American sweetheart as someone once told me, and seeing the positivity all over social media, made me proud. I was proud of all those who assisted the hurt, the helpless that day. I was so proud and I wished I could have done something more to help than smile and praise them. I felt also, compassion for all of those who were hurt and and killed, especially Martin Richard, the 8-year old boy. His death hit so close to home as my baby sister is eight years old, too. I found myself praying for those hurt, for their strength and for those who helped that day, in thanksgiving for their willingness to selflessly give of themselves. 

      Over the next few days, those stories of heroism continued as did the prayers of so many throughout the country. But as the week progressed, the focus turned from the actual people of the Marathon, the runners and the helpers, to those responsible. So many people were quoted saying that no matter what we will find the people responsible and they will pay. I believe that is the moment when prayer was forgotten. The focus went from "praying for Boston" to finding and serving justice to those responsible. Now, before I go on, I must say that I know how sensitive this subject is to many people all over our country. I understand that justice must be served as a wrong was performed. I am aware of all of this and so, what I may have to say could be hard to understand, it may anger a good amount of people, but under the terms of Social Justice, I am advocate for loving through the hurt.

      By the end of the week, I found myself watching the news with some of the Sisters at home. It was Friday, the morning of the MIT shooting which then progressed in the death of one of the Boston Bombing suspects and the capture of the other. I watched the whole thing unfold from the comfort of the convent community room and surrounded by a few of my sisters. The conversations were flying with every new update. One of my closest sisters was sitting next to me and often, we had found to be on the same thinking wavelength. Just as I was thinking what the nurses would be thinking if Dzhohhar was injured and had to be taken care of, Sister said it. Of course, this began a long justice conversation. In the end, we both decided that ethically, those nurses should take care of him and heal him, as he is suffering. Regardless of what he was responsible, he was first a human being. After that conversation, I realized there was a much, much bigger issue in our hands. 

     I began to see things on Social Media surface about wanting only justice for this man. Many were calling for a death sentence, or three lifetimes worth in jail. Others were stating that they didn't want to know his family history, his life story or even his name. They wanted to know nothing about him because as it seemed, it was only giving attention to an undeserved person. I disagree. I want to know his name. I want to know where he came from, who is family is, what his life was like. I want him to understand that what he did was wrong, but why teach that murder is wrong with murder? Why? Why do I want to know these things? Because for me, regardless of his wrong, he is a person. 

     All my life, I have been taught the lessons from Matthew 5. Turn the other cheek, love your enemies, etc. And yet, where is this present right now in our news and the media? I don't see it, I may not have twenty-twenty vision, but I'm not blind. It's not there. Prayer has been forgotten. When I heard on the news that Dzhokhar's father wanted justice for his son, I didn't at first agree with him radically coming over to the United States and wreaking havoc. I still don't, but he gave us something to really think about. This 19-year old man (if he can really be called that, as he, to me, is still a child) was HIS SON. Yes, he did something so very, very wrong. He so obviously hurt so many people; it was wrong. I cannot deny that. But, why must we hate him for it? Why is there so much hatred, such a calling for "justice," for the death penalty, for such harsh sentencing? Why? 

     What this man, this child, did was wrong. But regardless of this, he first came into this world just as any other human being, and so, he is a human being. Regardless of the wrong, he still shares my humanness. Regardless of the wrong, HE IS MY BROTHER. We must learn that while what happened in Boston was a tragedy and so many people were hurt, this man was obviously hurting, too. For, no one in their right human mind would want to hurt others of their same kind. We must not HATE the MAN, but HATE the HATE WITHIN THE MAN. I want to know his name so I can pray for him, I want to know his family so I can pray for them, I want to know who he was as a person, because HE WAS AND IS A PERSON. I want to love him, love him as a fellow human, love him as a brother. I hate the hate within him, but I love him. And so, perhaps this is a blog post not about social justice, but rather loving through the hurt. 

      I have carried in prayer all of my brothers and sisters who were hurt and killed during the Boston Marathon. I have prayed every single morning and every single night with them and for them and their families. I have carried in prayer all the first responders who were there and who came after to help even more. And now, I pray for Dzhokhar as my brother and sister. Because what makes him less human? Let the first without sin cast the first stone. And yet, we cast stones, despite the sin we carry in our own hearts. Dzhohkar was filled with hurt and pain, which he wrongly projected on so many helpless people. It was sin that he carried, just as we carry every day and so we must love past the sin, love the man within. Just as God loves us. 

The Search For Dignity

"Every time you smile a someone, it is an action of love, 

a gift to that person, a beautiful thing."

- Mother Teresa

    A typical walk across campus: despite the weather, multiple people, students, faculty, sisters, walking. People are always around, always walking, always headed some place new, always dead set on a destination. People, most often then not tuned out of the world, either listening to music, talking on the phone, worrying about something. People, who will not stop but keep going. That is, unless someone stops them. Then, panic settles in. 

    I've seen it happen on a daily basis. A student may be walking, transfixed on something else rather than their surroundings and is most likely oblivious to other people walking near and around them. Suddenly, someone says hello or good morning or better yet, addresses them by name. Shocked, the student looks up and is not quite sure what to do, but by the time it hits them to respond, the other person is gone. It makes them think for a moment, but then, they go back to their routine of shutting out the world and ignoring the next five people they walk past. This actually drives me crazy. 

    For as long as I can remember, I was always talking to strangers. People tell me I could convince a brick that it's no longer a brick if I needed to. Every day, if I saw someone new, I'd say hello, how you doing? etc. I remember one day in particular, when I was about 6 or 7, in a Kmart. My Daddy was walking behind me and a man was holding the door for me. I was always taught to hold the doors for older people, and at age seven, everyone was older. So, I tried to hold the door for this man. He refused to let me and so, I followed up with a "Thank you, thank you very much" in the voice of Elvis, complete with bowing and curtsying. Of course, I embarrassed my dad, but the stranger was enthralled about my antics of gratitude. I very easily could have just walked through the door without saying a thing. But, no...I gave that man a full show of thanks for his merely holding a door. So many other instances I can remember walking or riding my bike through out neighborhood, waving and saying hello to people. I would always ask my Daddy, "who's that? do we know them?" and of course, he would answer, "no." I didn't really understand this interaction, but I grew to learn to do the same. If there was ever a person nearby, I would say hello, wave, smile, anything to acknowledge their presences. This was easy, because I was saying hello to other friendly people, other people who were acknowledging my presence in return. To love is easy when love is given in return. 

    I can remember another instance, this time, I was much older than seven. Okay...I was seventeen. Now I know that doesn't seem very old, but in my current scheme of life, it was four years ago. Humor me here. Thanks. Anyway, so it was after school one day when my friend Melissa and I were taking a walk in the park down the street from our high school. It was a beautiful day and so there were plenty of people out jogging, walking their dogs and enjoying the day. As the two of us were walking, I would casually interrupt our conversation just to say hello to the people who we were passing by. I thought nothing of it until she finally asked me to question I always used to ask my Daddy, "Do you know all these people?" I laughed as I told her know. Besides these people were easy to acknowledge as they acknowledged me in return.

     When I came to college, I made it a point to say hello to every single person I knew. Or, if they couldn't hear me, to at least smile and wave obnoxiously in their direction. Most people would give a half-hearted hello in return. Unless it was a sister, they always got really hype about someone saying hi....they always do. Occasionally, if I knew the person, his or her response would be a little more lively. Now that I've been here for three years, and have successfully scared the underclassmen with my excitement, it's expected for Becca to say hi. It's her life goal. In fact, she could probably go around all day just saying hi to people and be able to call it a successful day. That's the truth. There's something about acknowledging people; for me it's all about the love. Like Mother Teresa said, a smile is a gift of love. I'm about giving the love, my friends, all about it. 

     This acknowledgement, this life mission of mine all took on a deeper meaning a few weeks ago. Most of you, if you've been reading for a while, know that I am pretty honest, with myself, with my God and with others. So, why not be honest now? For a few weeks, I have been harboring a hurt in my heart. It may seem so small in the scheme of things, but here's the main idea of what was hurting my heart. I am used to always saying hi and quite often being ignored, most of the times because I wasn't heard (it's because of the earbuds not my lack of loudmouth). And it's ok, I smile and move on. But what was truthfully hurting my heart was when a close friend of mine would ignore every hello, how are you, or smile I gave her. It would be returned with a glare, or even worse, the acknowledgement of the other person with me but an ignorance of myself. Finally, it got to me. It broke me down and I cried a good deal about it. When I finally talked about it, all I could say was, "I don't get it. How could one human find it in them the capacity to degrade another human by not acknowledging their presence?" Then it hit me.

     How many times have I been walking in the streets of my beloved Philadelphia and ignored the homeless or the needy or even those who may have needed a simple smile? So. Many. Times. I began to think in the larger scheme of things about these people who are deliberately ignored every single day. Every day of their lives, they long for someone to reach out, not with money, but with love and every day they are denied that. As human beings, we desire and deserve the love from other human beings. In fact, we were made to love one another, not ignore one another. Humanity doesn't work when we shut out others. We have a right as a human to be acknowledged by other human beings. Some people love their dogs more than they love other humans. It breaks my heart, especially because I myself am guilty of it. It's easy to love when love is returned, but with these people, the people who need love the most, they cannot return the love. And so, it makes it harder for us to love. It's not easy to love when love cannot be given in return. 

     The situation taught me two things: first, that I need to begin acknowledging ALL people, regardless of who they are, what they are doing, and how much they can love me in return. Second, that I need to kill people with kindness. Yeah, that's a thing. I'll be honest, it's hard to ignore me. I'm loud, I'm obnoxious, I have a "cackle that can light up any room" and I put myself in the way of others unknowingly. Let's be honest, if you're not acknowledging me, it's most likely on purpose. But, I will continue to love through that. Like I said, it's easy to love when love is returned. It's not so easy to love when love is not returned. It has taken so much of me to continue to love those who have hurt me by this minor act of human degradation. However, I am grateful for it, because without it I never would have realized how much this truly goes on in our world these days and how much I take part in it.

      The other night at the Mothership, I was talking with one of the Sisters who I so often find myself contemplating the mysteries of the universe with. This is true. We have been known to spend hours past my portress duties just talking about life. This weeks mystery of the universe: human dignity and the acknowledgement of other humans. Just as I have on the college campus, I do at work. When a sister walks through the door, "Hello, Sister. Welcome home, Sister. Happy day, Sister. Have a good night, Sister." Every single person that walks through that door, regardless of whatever homework I am in the middle of not accomplishing. When she walked through the door, a welcome home was given and a conversation started. I began to tell her about my heart struggles and how I've been learning from them. She is a firm believer that we hurt so we learn. I have seen this proven true. I told how I was sitting there crying because I felt that as a human I deserved to be acknowledged and not degraded, when it hit me. I, who have been blessed with so much, have one person in my life who does not acknowledge me when so many in our world are ignored daily by every single person who walks past them. Crying, sobbing, over one person. Yet these people who have no one, especially not a Sister to complain to, to cry or sob with. They put up with being degraded every day and yet they deserve the SAME amount of human respect as I do. HELLO. What a wake up call for me. She agreed saying, all religion aside, there is not one human being on this earth better than another human being. Therefore, each human being, should address every other human being with respect, regardless of whether you like the person or not. And then I told her, Sister, Christ is in you, Christ is in me, Christ is in every single living human being on this earth. If I fail to recognize or acknowledge a fellow human being, I fail to acknowledge my Beloved. 

     And so, all of this being said: we not only learn from what has hurt us in the past, but we also must choose to acknowledge every human person we come in contact with. Now, I'm not saying, run into the nearest grocery store and go up to every single person in the store, shake their hand or hug them. No, that's a bit ridiculous. But what I'm saying is, if when shopping in the grocery store, you see you are sharing an aisle with another person and will soon be passing them, you say hello or at least smile. I'm saying, unplug with whatever it is that is plugging you up: music, cell phones, worries. UNPLUG. Acknowledge and be acknowledged. And let's face it, whether we know what is going on or not, we are all each experiencing something at any given time and who knows what a simple hello or smile could do. Of course, let's not forget those who are ignored and not acknowledged on a daily basis. Put yourself in their shoes momentarily and think to yourself, could you really handle being ignored all day long? I would go nuts. And so, my challenge to you for today/tomorrow (whenever this actually posts....) is to make it a point to acknowledge every single person you meet throughout your day, whether old friend or new, whether love is returned or not. Just do it. It will not only make someone else's day, but you day, too. And trust me...it's a good habit to get into.