The 2017 Shari Prestemon Social Justice Interns have graciously agreed to share their experiences with all of us. From time to time, we’ll be posting ‘journal entries’ from Naiomi Gonzalez and Katy Morton. Below is one of these entries.
Who Cares? Well, I Do.
If they say
Who cares if one more light goes out?
In a sky of a million stars
It flickers, flickers
Who cares when someone’s time runs out?
If a moment is all we are
We’re quicker, quicker
Who cares if one more light goes out?
Well I do
Linkin Park, “One More Light”
One of my favorite things about school in general is the exposure to new ideas and points of views. I love learning about how different individuals, groups, societies, etc., view the world and how they make sense and respond to violence, pain, and death as well as joy, love, and justice. I might not agree with every viewpoint I come across but I believe that, intellectually at least, I am enriched by learning about different viewpoints. I mean, I study terrorism not because I necessarily agree with violent action, particularly against civilians, but because I believe that in order to minimize it, we need to take the time to understand the motivations, grievances, and pain of those who believe violence is their best or only option to bring about change.
In seminary, I was exposed to different theological beliefs, but one system of thought that has radically shaped my understanding of God is process theology. Now to be fair, there is a lot about process theology that I don’t understand, particularly its metaphysical aspects. The aspect of process theology that has captured my imagination is its emphasis on God as changing and responding to the world around us. Moreover, God is presented not as an angry deity that controls all aspects of humanity, but as a companion who encourages humanity to do what is right and who grieves at the violence and pain in the world. One of the fathers of process thought referred to God as, “the great companion – the fellow-sufferer who understands.” This understanding of God continues to shape how I view the world and the suffering that goes on it.
I think one of the most helpless feelings I have both in my academic work and during my internship is when I realize that I can’t help whomever needs help. Back Bay Mission, like every social service organization, is limited by funds and resources. Back Bay Mission can’t help every person that is eligible for its services, much less everyone that calls or walks in with a legitimate need. And after a while, for better or worse, I have gotten used to saying “no” or “sorry we can’t help you and there is no one else I can refer you to”. But occasionally a story will still tug at my heart strings. Whether it’s a mother or grandmother seeking resources for her children/grandchildren, someone struggling with a debilitating medical diagnosis-the sadness at being unable to help is the same.
In my academic work, I listen, watch, and read a lot about terrorism. The least pleasant aspects of my research is having to read or watch videos or photographs of children being blown to bits by both the so-called terrorists and those who fight them. I mean, a dead child is still a dead child, whether that child was killed by ISIS or by the US. And with my academic research there isn’t much I can do tangibly to help anyone. At least at Back Bay Mission there are occasions where I can direct people to the right sources within the organization or somewhere else. My academic research – at least right now – offers very little opportunity for me to actually do something tangible to reduce non-state terrorism and state violence. And as a result, despair and frustration is never really that far behind.
Now of course there is a solution to the depression and despair that comes with seeing the injustice and violence of the world up close: and it’s to not care. To blind myself completely to the suffering of others. To simply say, “well there are millions of people in the US alone struggling with poverty and homelessness, and I can’t help them all, so who cares.” Or, “well state violence and violent responses to the state have occurred since nation-states became a thing, no use getting upset over something that will continue to kill millions of people.” That attitude, however, gives the illusion of offering protection to one’s soul and heart, but in reality it simply hardens a person. In my opinion, not caring would make me less human. But the reality is, I can’t care about every injustice or every instance of violence with the same intensity, or I won’t be able to function. So what do I do? I think this is where, for me, faith and my understanding of God comes in.
There’s a tension within most faith traditions-including Christianity: the tension between trusting in a higher power, especially in the face of violence, and injustice and being active and working towards a just world. The belief in a God that is right there suffering with us, makes the challenge of living with this tension both easier and much more difficult. On the one hand, it allows me to recognize that I can’t take on the pain and sorrow of the world. I can barely take on my own pain and sorrow. But with a God that is right in the trenches with us, there is no need for me to try and act like a super hero. Additionally, I believe that even when I can’t help someone that God is with that person, suffering right alongside with them. This belief can verge on the cliché, if it assumes that just because God is suffering with a person that everything will eventually turn out all right. For example, I believe God is with a person suffering from severe mental illness, I believe God is suffering right alongside this person and his/her family and friends. But this doesn’t change the fact that mental illness, can be deadly.
On the other hand, I believe that the predominate if not the only way God works in the world is through human action. If I want to see poverty, homelessness, war, violence end (or more likely minimized), I and everyone else needs to take active steps in making the world a better place. It means caring. It means being open to having one’s heart broken by the violence and poverty in the world. Believing in a God that cares and suffers with humanity but also works through us means being willing to allow our hearts to be broken by the suffering around us, without being completely destroyed by it.
Who cares if one more light goes out? God does. And I do. You should too.
