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Reflections on a Difficult Week
in Our Community
A Sermon Given
by Rev. Roger Fritts
on October 13, 2002
at Cedar Lane Unitarian Universalist Church
Bethesda, Maryland
This is the weekend of Columbus Day, the holiday established in 1934
to mark the Italians’ arrival in the New Land on October 11, 1492.
Christopher Columbus’s goal was to get rich. In the first two weeks of
journal entries Columbus used the word "Gold" seventy-five times. As I
planned my sermon topics last summer, with news of corporate executive
salaries and abuses, today seemed like a good Sunday to talk about the
struggle we all have with greed.
However, the random murders that have occurred in our community over
the past twelve days have preoccupied my thoughts. I have found myself
unable to focus on much else. So I am going to save my notes on the
topic of greed, and return to the subject sometime next winter or
spring. Today I want to try to acknowledge some of the feelings I have
had this past week. Perhaps you may find it describes something of your
own experience.
Monday is the day I try to take off from church, and last Monday I
had a list of tasks to do, such as bill paying and vacuuming part of the
house. Leslie and I had the television on while we drank coffee. At 8:50
a.m. we heard that a 13-year-old child had been shot at a middle school,
the eighth victim. I watched the reports for a few minutes and then I
decided to drive to the church to rewrite my newsletter column, which
was about Iraq. Instead I wrote about the need to thank police and those
who work in our schools.
While at church I found out that Sandra Pratt was in Holy Cross
Hospital. In the afternoon I went over. Sandy was asleep, but Bill Pratt
and I talked. One privilege of being a minister is being invited into
people’s lives when important events are happening in their lives. Such
a visit always reminds me about what is truly important in life and what
is trivial.
Driving to and from the hospital I kept the radio on the news
station. Back at home, as each of my children arrived, I asked what had
happened at school.
My 12-year-old told me the principal had come on the PA system at her
middle school several times, and announced that they were locked down
again and that they were all safe, but did not tell them why she was
reassuring them. Rachel said, "we looked at each other and said ‘So we
are safe.’" Police were at the school when it let out in the afternoon.
My 20-year-old teaches music at a school in Prince George’s County.
On Monday morning, he along with three other University of Maryland
students found that when they arrived at the school, the building was
locked. It took awhile before they were let in to teach. A long hair
20-year-old trying to get into a public school with a cello case is
treated differently now than he was two weeks ago.
My 16-year-old called to say that football practice had been
cancelled and he wanted to visit a friend. Leslie told him that a child
had been shot at a school, and that she would feel better if he would
come home. He had been in band class when the school announced a lock
down. At school the kids were only told that another shooting had
occurred. They did not know that it had been at a school. At about five
p.m. David and I drove over to Sports Authority to buy him some football
cleats, on the assumption that practice would soon resume. We did not
waste time walking from the parking lot to the store.
No one was shot Tuesday. I got word that Sandra Pratt had died and I
talked to Bill. In the evening the Social Action Committee met and we
considered a request to support a woman who is using her family contacts
in the Pakistani Army to bring aid to Afghan refugee camps.
On Wednesday morning I planned a sermon that I will be giving at a
minister’s meeting in Delaware next week. I also planned the adult
education course, "Getting Started," that I was leading that evening. In
the afternoon I led an Aging Support Group. Leslie drove over to the
church to give me a ride home because she did not want me standing out
on the street waiting for the bus. As we drove down Cedar Lane, a short
distance north of the church, we came to a place where two police cars
blocked the road. Beyond the cars we could see two officers with their
guns drawn and pointed at a man. As we watched, the man lay down on the
grass and the officers approached, still with their guns drawn and
pointed at him. This is not something which I normally see on my way
home from the church. We turned on a side street and took another route
home.
The incident attracted the news helicopters, and I could watch them
from my front yard hovering over Cedar Lane. When I drove back to church
for my class, the police still blocked Cedar Lane off. Jim Onder was at
the church, and he told me that several TV satellite trucks were parked
outside his house. In the Getting Started class, people shared
their fear for their children and for themselves. We reminded ourselves
that we had more chance of dying in a car accident than dying from a
bullet. We all talked about how we were moving faster when we walked
across parking lots. We talked about how tired we felt. Fear and tension
sapped our energy.
At 9:30 p.m. on the way home, it started to rain. I counted eight
satellite trucks on Cedar Lane. It turned out that the arrest that
Leslie and I had witnessed at 4:20 p.m. was a young man who had gotten
into an argument with his mother.
The real news was in Virginia. On the radio I heard that at 8 p.m.
Wednesday night a man had been shot and killed while buying gas in
Manassas. He was the ninth victim. I watched the late news, and after it
was over, I had trouble falling asleep. Images floated in my mind: The
police with their guns drawn on Cedar Lane . . . the sounds of the press
helicopters . . . the flashing blue lights and the sirens . . . and the
flowers on the bench at the Shell Station 600 yards from my home,
marking where a twenty-five-year-old woman died. I wondered how many
other people in the area were also having trouble sleeping. After awhile
I got up and read a book, and listened to the light rain fall on the
house until I could fall asleep.
On Thursday morning I awoke to the sound of a helicopter flying low
over our house. I headed for church. I had appointments, and I had lunch
with the Alliance. I wondered aloud about Halloween. If this keeps up,
no one will let their kids out of the house on October 31. Perhaps I
said, we should have something at church on October 31 as a replacement
for trick or treating. Others reacted by saying that they could not
imagine this going on that much longer.
On Thursday evening when my 16-year-old got home he told me that they
had tried to hold football practice in the school gym that afternoon.
Falling on a wood floor is harder than falling on grass. The plan for
Thursday was to move all of the games to Saturday morning.
At a meeting at church Thursday night people talked about reports of
another shooting, this time in Rockville. I watched the news at eleven,
but no one made reference to such a shooting. It was another false
alarm.
On Friday morning I was drinking a cup of tea and thinking about a
sermon on greed when a few minutes before 10 there was a "Breaking News"
announcement of another shooting in Virginia, the tenth victim. This
time the police tried to shut down the roads and search for a white van.
Leslie and I went to a bagel shop for lunch. The outdoor setting was
closed. I eavesdropped on conversations around me. Every conversation
was about the shootings. Back at church I checked the school web page.
School officials had canceled every outdoor activity, including
football.
As I have been describing my week to you, perhaps you have been
reviewing your own experiences. Each of us has our own unique story.
Each of us has our own joys and sorrows from these past few days. Still
we all share in common the fact that we have lived our lives in the
context of these random attacks. Very few of us are immune from feeling
fear and anxiety because of the shootings.
We are in a cycle in which our anxiety can grow and grow. It starts
with a real event that stimulates our fear. The news people rush to
report on this event. We see the reports, and seeing them we become more
anxious. Our feelings themselves become the news. So Friday night at
seven I watched on the national news with a story focused on life in
Washington. I see pictures of the Tea House on Antique Row in
Kensington, pictures of an empty St Paul Park, and I watch my neighbors
as a reporter interview them about their fears.
The reporting of fear, makes feelings more legitimate and raises my
fear, even when I know rationally that the odds of my being harmed is
very small.
As Thich Nhat Hanh said in the reading I used this morning, if we are
in a boat with others in a storm and all of us panic, the chances of our
survival decrease.
But if even one person aboard can remain calm, lucid, knowing what to
do and what not to do, he or she can help the boat survive. His or her
expression—face, voice— communicates clarity and calmness, and people
have trust in that person. They will listen to what he or she says. One
such person can save the lives of many. . . . We are about to panic
because our situation is no better than the situation of the small boat
in the sea. . . . (Being Peace, Thich Nat Hanh)
We need people who can remain calm. You are that person, in your
family, in your work. Each of you is that person.
How do we remain calm? It helps to remind ourselves that this will
end. The police will catch the person or persons involved, or (as
happened with the anthrax deaths of a year ago) the killings will simply
stop and the police will never catch the killer. At some point this will
end. Until then, each of us will work on ways to cope.
We humans have many spiritual disciplines that help us cope with the
fear— meditation, prayer, yoga, Tai Chi, gardening, quilting— all help
us cut through our fears. In my own case to help me remain calm:
I limit how much radio and television news I listen to or watch. I do
not need to hear a minute by minute account of what is going on.
I limit my consumption of alcohol and caffeine. At times like this, I
may be tempted to turn to them both, but coffee makes me anxious and
wine gives me a headache.
I do what I can to be in the presence of nature. I love October: the
cool crisp air, the colors of pumpkins and turning leaves, the smell of
apples, and the warmth of a fire.
I do what I can to be in the presence of beauty. I will enjoy the
music of the choir and the dramatic skills of Cedar Lane Stage. As a
lover of the written word, I will continue to read prose, fiction, and
non fiction.
I continue to offer my thanks and my support to our community
leaders. As the parent of a High School varsity football player, I
realize that the decision to cancel outdoor sports activities is a very
difficult one. Some students in our high schools are counting on their
performances in athletic events to help them receive admission and
scholarships to universities. If they are unable to play, how will
college scouts know about their skills and abilities? Our school
Superintendent and our County Executive struggle with difficult
decisions, and they have my support and my thanks for their work at this
time. Saying that they are overreacting is easy. It is much harder to be
in their position and half to decide what to do.
Most important, I will keep up my interactions with my friends and
family. Although sometimes such contacts can be stressful, most of the
time being with family and friends relaxes me, reassures me, and helps
me feel calm, instead of feeling anxious and afraid.
A religious community is one place to find friends and move beyond
fear and anxiety. Being together Sunday morning can remind us that we
are significant, that others are thankful that we are alive, and that in
dealing with difficulties we are not alone.
We who serve as church musicians or clergy are trying to provide
worship services that affirm and promote principles and values of
respect for the dignity of all people. Ritual can help us in coping with
our fears. It offers comfort, reassurance, and a familiar pattern. In
ritual, we express and affirm our beliefs, which give our lives
direction and focus. Ritual reminds us why we believe that with all its
difficulties, life is worth living. For those of us who believe in God
the worship service is a reminder of that belief.
It has been a difficult twelve days, and it is not yet over, but
there are things we can do to take care of ourselves and one another
during this experience. We can watch television news in moderation, so
that we are kept informed, yet do not allow our anxiety to spiral out of
control. We can engage in a spiritual practice or creative activity that
soothes and renews our spirit. We can stay connected to this religious
community, for our power to love each other is stronger than the power
of our fear. Together, we remind each other of the goodness of human
beings.
Office@CedarLane.org
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