I was looking at photos from Japan this morning and attempting to imagine what it's like for the folks over there. I don't think I can even process the magnitude of the issues they're grappling with...whole communities decimated, multifarious public health problems, nuclear risks that call forth our deepest fears of human extinction.
How do we respond to a tragedy of this magnitude?
I'm reminded of a scene towards the end of Bertolt Brecht's *Mother Courage and Her Children.* Mother Courage and her daughter Katrin are staying the night with a peasant family when they discover that a nearby village is about to be attacked in the night. The family begins to pray for the well-being of the villagers, though they know most will probably be dead by morning. Katrin, who is mute, is outraged by the family's choice to pray rather than take action to warn the locals. She climbs to the top of their roof and begins beating a drum to warn the people of the impending assault. Katrin succeeds in waking the villagers in time for them to defend themselves but just as she does so, she is killed by the invading soldiers.
This image of the family praying as Katrin beats her drum furiously, knowing that she takes her life in her hands--it burns my mind. Brecht is a master of expressing his belief in the oppositional relationship between prayer and action, implicating faith as an enabling tool for complacency and denial. But I can't accept his assessment. In fact, I refuse.
In the face of events this devastating, neither our faith nor our actions can ever be “enough.” The pain and grief of losing so many lives, the toll of the nuclear threats visited upon the country and the overwhelming fear of the impacts yet unknown are too irrational, too unfathomable. And yet, if we use faith and action together, perhaps we have a fighting chance.
First, a word about faith. By faith, I refer to the opportunity to release my ego. To humble myself before forces beyond my understanding. To honor the divinity in other beings and relate to other people and the world with love, trust and gentleness. Some people access this experience through religion. Others through This kind of faith helps to direct my action. It keeps me focused on using my abilities to be of service and protects me from being overwhelmed by the all too natural anger and fear we all feel in response to traumatic events.
Faith without action is empty words. But action without the purpose and humility of faith can easily disintegrate into acting out.
When Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans (my hometown), it was a combination of faith, connection, support and action that got me through the months of pain and grief that followed. And as I watched the terrible mishandling of the government response to the tragedy, I saw the ego that made the head of FEMA so ineffective; the fear and prejudice that enabled the horrible neglect of my city’s poorest citizens; the anger and desperation of those who resorted to looting and crime.
The miracle of Hurricane Katrina was the groundswell of support and love that so many people expressed for the city. From that foundation of compassion, financial contributions poured in. Dozens of service organizations set up shop or expanded their operations. Environmental advocacy, political awareness and a passionate commitment to re-building spread throughout the city’s residents.
What’s happening in Japan is a terrifying wake-up call for the world’s energy and environmental systems not to mention the survival of the human race. But how can we move forward with faith and service? How can we come together as a global community to solve our problems with integrity and love?
We live in perilous times. Life is so very short and so very precious. We may not find the answers right away. We may not avoid terrible mistakes. But we’ll always have the choice of kindness rather than dismissal, smiles over smirks. What were the last kind words the casualties of the Japanese earthquake heard? What if you had been the one to say those words to someone who died just minutes after you boarded a plane back to the U.S.?
You never know if you’re the last person someone will see before they die. You never know which of your breaths will be your last. How would you treat people, how would you live, who would you be if you knew that this day was your last?
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