Recently there was a Medieval Fair in Oklahoma where my son and his family live. While driving past the fairgrounds our youngest granddaughter caught a glimpse of a sign that read, ‘Swords and Shields’ and declared that that was something she would love to have. Her hopes were dashed when my son said, “You are not getting a sword and shield!” Undeterred, she declared, “Looks like I’m going to have to take this into my own hands!” I’m not certain how an eight-year-old with no financial independence was going to manage purchasing the aforementioned sword and shield, but I admire her pluck. Personally, I would have honored her request, but I was reminded, once again, that parenthood requires discipline and denial.

Pondering Gwen’s resolve, I began thinking of the many times I have been denied and have remained silent. How often have I just accepted “no” as an answer? How often have I acquiesced to others’ policies and opinions? How many times have I witnessed fellow humans being dealt with unfairly but lacked the courage to speak up in order to ensure my own safety and privilege? How often have I chosen to “go along, to get along“?

It’s hard today to not become discouraged with our government and the chaos that we are being subjected to. Whether we are personally suffering or witnessing the suffering of those we love, our world is fraught with injustice. As Christians, we are all called to speak out against injustices when we see them and yet our pulpits often remain silent in the face of discrimination against immigrants, the disabled, minorities, elderly, and LGBTQ members of our society. Sometimes my frustration, hopelessness and anger are met with tears.

In his book, The Tears of Things, Richard Rohr writes, “Grief and sadness are doorways to understanding life in a non-egocentric way. Tears come from both awe and empathy, and they generate even deeper awe and deeper empathy in us. The sympathy that wells up when we weep can be life-changing, too, drawing us out of ourselves and into communion with those around us.”

So, I will let my tears fall but I also will stand up, speak up and say ‘yes’ to the naysayers. I will challenge the silent enablers. I still have a voice, a vote, a conscience, and a faith that tells me to care for the most vulnerable in our society. Gwen gives me courage. I’m taking things into my own hands. I will peacefully protest. I will continue to write to my senators and congressman. Most importantly, I won’t let my fears and tears keep me from speaking out against injustice.

As we enter Holy Week, let us remember that Jesus’ suffering and death is not in vain, instead, it is a profound expression of love for humanity. 

Peace,

Denis

She stood behind Jesus at his feet weeping and began to bathe his feet with her tears. Luke 7:38