Friday, April 20, 2007

Words of Hope and Courage

Rev. Beth H. DuBois

Onondaga Valley and South Presbyterian Churches

Plymouth Congregational Church

Grace and peace to you from your brothers and sisters at Onondaga Valley and South Presbyterian Churches, just down the hill in the Valley, and Plymouth Congregational Church downtown, and your neighbors around the community.  Our thoughts and prayers are with each of you – students, faculty, staff and parents – and with the Virginia Tech community.

Last night, as I began to write my reflections, I checked on my children in their beds.  You may not realize it, but your parents check on you, when you’re home, no matter how old you are and no matter how late you got in.  For those of us who have children in our lives, we know that there is nothing as peaceful as a sleeping child – eyelashes soft against their cheeks, snuggled tightly with a favorite blanket or stuffed animal, deeply breathing, blessed with the rest that restores, renews and heals.

Last night, once again, I thought about and prayed for the parents around the world who won’t ever check on their children again.  Those beds are empty.  Those hearts are forever still.  They have drawn their last breath.

And for those parents, for the members of their families, for the friends and loved ones of those who died this week, for students, faculty and staff here at OCC, each breath is a sharp stab of mixed emotions.  Perhaps you feel sad because you knew one of the students or faculty who was killed; perhaps you’re scared that you might be killed; perhaps you’re scared for your friends; perhaps you’re numb; perhaps you’re so angry that you’re afraid of yourself; perhaps you’re just bored or curious. 

In the barrage of media and my space, questions endlessly haunt us: What was the meaning of their lives?  Why them? Why did I survive? How will I live now that they are gone?  Could that have been me in that class? Could I know someone like Cho Seung-Hui? Am I someone like that? Why didn’t the police/faculty/administration do more? Why did he do this?  Where was God?  Why did God let this happen? What do I do now?

So we come together this morning – with questions swirling for many of us, unanswered and deeply troubling – yet being here, together, is an act of faith.  Asking questions is an act of faith.  Feeling compassion for the students, faculty and staff at Virginia Tech is an act of faith.  Your actions and feelings are not exclusively Christian, although they may be; or Jewish or Muslim or Buddhist or Hindu, although they may be any of these or no formal religious affiliation at all.  This act of faith is the simple first step that says:

            “In the face of such loss, my heart breaks with compassion for that community and all the families;

            In the face of such violence, unimaginable and terrible, I will not hide;

            In the face of so many dead, I will not become another victim – alone, cut off, dead inside.”

No.  Each of you has taken that step – perhaps unconsciously, tentatively, awkwardly – to choose life over death.

            To choose life – to live with the unanswered questions and courageously bear witness to the sadness of lives lost and gifts destroyed

            To choose life – to care for yourselves, beloved children of all kinds of families and this college family and community – to seek help if you’re having trouble, to get rest and food and exercise – to honor the life given to you as a precious gift

            To choose life – to care for one another, with simple hugs and shared tears, chocolate and long talks, walks and comfortable silence

            To choose life – to continue to learn in the face of  ignorant violence, to continue to teach and serve, and, though it seems hard to think about, to develop your gifts so desperately needed in this world, as an act of hopeful resistance to the loss of so much promise

            To choose life – even though we are all inadequate to the task, to live a life that changes this world from a place of random violence to a place of joyous peace; that changes this world from a place of retaliation, to a place of justice, forgiveness and grace.

In the face of tragedy, you choose life.  In the face of violence, you step forward in faith.  In the face of fear, you choose community.  In the face of ignorance, you choose learning. In the face of revenge, you choose justice.  You choose to take one step, each moment, each day, to prevail in spite of the world around us. 

Professor Nikki Giovanni, poet and author at Virginia Tech, said this on April 17, during the community convocation:

“(We) reach out with open heart and hands to those who offer their hearts and minds.  We are strong, and brave, and innocent, and unafraid.  We are better than we think and not quite what we want to be.  We are alive to the imaginations and the possibilities.  We will continue to invent the future through our blood and tears and through all our sadness….We will prevail.”

May it be so for each of us.  May the God of your hearts bless you and keep you safe, now and always.