I’ve spent several hours this week saddened and horrified over the “Torture Report” issued by the Senate Intelligence Committee after its investigation of the CIA’s treatment of detainees following 9-11. I’m sure I’m not alone in this. I have also been paying attention to the nationwide protest over grand jury failures in NY and MO to indict police officers for the strangling death of Eric Garner and the shooting death of Michael Brown. As a nation we are reeling from these devastating glimpses of ourselves in the mirror. We hear some of our elected officials actually CONDONING gruesome methods of torture. We are forced to question the tactics and motives of law enforcement as well as the reliability of our justice system as we witness the underlying brutality born of hatred and fear. How do we as American Christians manage this information in these final days of our journey toward Christmas knowing what we know now? This horrific treatment of other human beings has been/is being done in our name under the rubric of community and homeland protection. How can we reconcile this?
In an editorial posted in the National Catholic Reporter online, staff writers pose the question whether a popular referendum on permitting torture, would have overwhelmingly passed in 2003 and 4, and even today? And I wonder—would such a referendum on the justice system and law enforcement’s harsh and sometimes brutal treatment of Black America also pass? We’re talking about vulnerable human beings just like us. Made in the image of God just like us. Our enemies? In the case of terrorists, yes, but even they are entitled to a forthright respect of their humanity, even in the face of understandable fear and justifiable anger.
The celebration of Jesus’ birth is a celebration of the innate dignity of the human person and the inherent holiness of our world and all of life. If we believe God sent Jesus into the world, then we must also believe the world is worth saving. The earth is worth saving. All beings are worth saving. Everyone and everything has inborn value because God is at the core of all of it. The vulnerable, Divine infant lies in the manger of every beating heart.
In that same online editorial yesterday, the NCR staff calls the U.S. government’s use of torture “an indelible stain on the nation’s conscience’. How can we wrap our minds around our nation’s conscience when conscience itself is viewed almost exclusively as an individual issue in our culture, and even in our church?
There were times—Isaiah’s, Paul’s and John the Baptist’s, for instance—when prophets addressed the conscience of their PEOPLE. When the community violated its values and principles, prophets called them to look at the circumstances of their collective suffering as a natural consequence of violating their social and spiritual integrity. In today’s world we seem unable to make the connection between ravaging the rights and dignity of others and reaping the whirlwind of violent repercussions in our society and in the global social and political fabric.
The painful events in our day disrupt our lives and the life of our communities and nations in big and small ways. We are all in pain. The World Health Organization reports that depression is the number-one cause of illness and disability in children and adolescents between the ages of 10 and 19. In fact it projects that by 2030 disability and death from depression will outpace that from war, accidents, cancer, stroke and heart disease! In the U.S., according to the Center for Disease Control, prescriptions for anti-depressants have shot up 400% since 1988. And a survey done in 2012 found 95% of U.S. college counseling center directors “reported an increase in the number of students with significant psychological problems.” All of this runs in the background of our Advent experience.
What does it mean to “make ready the way of the Lord” under circumstances like these? To what are WE being called as a people? Isaiah proclaims liberty to captives and a release to prisoners, a binding of the wounds of the brokenhearted and good news to the poor. What does this mean for us today as we encounter the many faces of terrorism, prejudice and brutality, both inside and outside our borders? Where is the good news available for the poor when so many are out of work, underfed, held captive in countless ways or running for their lives?
Into this anxious mess of our 21st century chaos comes the ancient voices of our former prophets. THERE IS LIGHT, John cries from the wilderness and across the centuries. Where, we ask? In this spiritual desert of a world? Yes, he says. Build yourselves a highway in the desert! Clear away everything that blinds you, anything that obstructs your view of the open night sky. Get rid of attitudes that de-humanize you and set you against your neighbor. That’s what this season is for! Repent means apologize. Express remorse for pain you’ve caused. Ask forgiveness from those you’ve injured. Repair the torn and ragged places in your social fabric. Mend the hoop of your people and restore health to your relationships. Rein in your fears.
It is God’s Light that illuminates the shadows cast by attitudes of fear. Clear a path in your heart, your church, your society for justice to emerge, and open a door for the arrival of the Prince of Peace. God makes justice sprout in every neighborhood and nation, Isaiah says. Look and you will see those tiny shoots breaking ground everywhere. Nurture them.
So at this point in Advent we are encouraged to rejoice in God’s Light as it illuminates the darkness. We give thanks for the Light and for our ability to see what needs to be cleared in order to make straight the path of peace. And we continue to pray, always and in every situation as Paul advises. We let prayer carry us down the highway toward inner and outer transformation of the earth, ourselves, and the world as we know it. God is everywhere—in all things, and in all circumstances. Knowing and trusting this we can find peace in the midst of anything that happens.
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