When death hangs over the land, we all mourn

Humboldt, Toronto, personal friend, and, not so long ago, family.

Death hangs over the land. e tragedy of young hockey players killed and maimed by an accident of timing numbs the mind and clouds the soul. It seems such a remote possibility. But it happened, and no explanation can take away the reality of the resulting carnage.

And the strewn wreckage is symbolic of lives that are shattered, families left bereft, a community left stunned and bewildered with an unutterable sadness. And a whole country, and even the world, is left to share the grief and pain.

en, before our souls could settle, a man drove a van down a Toronto sidewalk, killing 10 and injuring many others. ere is something even more shocking about an intentional act of destruction visited upon people going about their daily activities. Anger wells at such a senseless act. What could lead a person to such a wanton act of killing? e driver had his own warped reasons, which eludes our understanding.

en we all have our own griefs. As the years go by our losses mount, some of them very painful. And as age creeps on our circle of contemporaries and friends gets smaller and smaller. And, of course, the death of a son still weighs heavily upon Emily and me.

We are struck, wounded, by the losses that impact us most directly. We know that the daily round of news brings reports of atrocities and tragedies far beyond what we have experienced. We are horri ed, numbed, by the constant accounts of nature’s unfortunate doings, and our appalling human misdoings. ose who keep track of such things tell us that in terms of wars and atrocities the world is less violent now than ever. at does not say much for past ages. With the “one world” reality that modern communication brings us, we are much more exposed to world-wide happenings.

However, although we may have a special country or area of the world to which we are attuned, in general, the nearer the tragedy the more we are a ected. As Canadians, we are profoundly impacted by the shootings and goings-on in the U.S. When something happens in Canada it is as if we are personally involved. When death strikes close to home we are reminded anew that we belong to this human family and are at one with its limitations and failures.

We also know the glory, possibility and creativity of life. When tragedy happens we are surrounded by compassion and caring.

When a massive tragedy happens, like Humboldt and Toronto, a whole country forms a network of compassion. As humans we understand the pain and loss of death and tragedy.

We want to help. We do help, sometimes with our shared concern, and often in very practical ways. We are not isolated and alone. We are engulfed in a wondrous community where we do “bear one another’s burdens” and are thus helped to bear our own burdens.

Life will reassert itself. Witness the glories of the bursting forth of spring. It seems to be the very essence of the Universe to push forward, to grow, to become. Death is a reality, but life will prevail. Stars die and new galaxies form. Life happens. In the ongoing of our human journey there will be times when dark reality overtakes us. But life around us, and eventually within us, will go on.

In spite of shattered dreams, and vast voids, we will put together the pieces and make a life for ourselves and those around us. And when our days are done others will carry on, and the great venture of human life will continue.

Mary Jean Irion says it well in her nal words in From the Ashes of Christianity.

“Sometimes life is hard to a rm, and when the blows of circumstance descend upon me, I want to go someplace with other people and be reminded ... that af rmation is a fact larger than my private sorrow ... and that if I can just hang on, I will come here and praise life again – or if not I, then others will. I need to praise the creativity ... that saves us, the knowledge that frees us, praise the love that operates among us — and I need to accept the fact of su ering and death as the price we pay for it all.”

“Come, great [life giving Sphinx], to this place.”