I can’t stop thinking about the families of Malaysia Airlines flight #370. I don’t worry for the passengers. I know God has them. I suspect the families are allowing this reality to sink in slowly – bit by bit, as the mind can handle such trauma. This is their Good Friday. They are all carrying the cross uphill – suffering immense pain and heading toward agony.
I saw several jokes about the missing plane on Facebook. It took my breath away. It seemed so incomprehensible to me at first – like someone in Malaysia making fun of our “9/11.” It didn’t make me angry. It made me curious. What is going on in us when we go there – when we make light of someone’s worst nightmare? I think it has to do with being overwhelmed. I think humor defends us from unimaginable grief. I think as long as we can make a joke about something, we keep it at a safe distance – under some kind of imaginary control. The truth is that whether we are making jokes or haunted by the angry, grieving families – we are all overwhelmed by this tragedy.
People die everyday – many through violence or tragic circumstance. Children go “missing” and are never found. This missing plane seems to contain all of it – the fear, the anger, the sorrow. As news commentators recycle the same breadcrumb of information and family members scream and collapse, we would do well to close our eyes and pray. As the world moves closer to the kingdom of God, the truth of our oneness – our connection to one another – has become clear. We who pray understand that we are those grieving, angry loved ones. We can touch their pain and help them to bear it. We can crowd the path to Golgotha or we can help Jesus carry the cross. We can watch the pain and tell ourselves it cannot touch us, or we can take a moment to wipe a bloody, tear-stained face. We are already part of this tragedy – whether we admit to it or not. If we could all use the love inside us to strengthen and comfort these people half a world away, something of the meaning of Good Friday will become known to us. Simon and Veronica will live again in us if we are willing to touch the pain of strangers heading for the worst day of their lives.
Lenten hope and love to you all…
Vicki
God is Always More 