Faith

2 massacres evoke memories of loss, grief

RABBI IRWIN WIENER

Columnist

Two things occurred recently that evoked tragic memories of loss and grief. All of us at one time or another have gone through the agonies of defeat and emptiness. Many things occur during our lifetime to remind us of the pain we endure during these dark episodes.

The two experiences I refer to involve more than just losing someone, but also indicate how essential it is for us to realize the impact events can have on our lives and those around us.

The first one deals with the despicable act of bigotry in Buffalo, New York. It taught us how vulnerable we are to the various fringe elements that consider the destruction of humanity a calling.

The second deals with the most heinous act of terror, the murder of innocent children and their teachers.

Both reminded me that the mystics teach us that to appreciate the joy and fulfillment of life, we must experience pain. The conclusion reached is that agony and ecstasy were created because life does not exist with just one or the other. Sometimes we lose sight of this fact.

Moreover, there are losses that have no comparison. These losses create in us a vacuum that defies explanation. The most devastating of these is the loss of a child, followed closely with the loss of a spouse, sibling, parent, or significant other.

When we are faced with the task of opening the earth to receive a child, not only do we mourn, but the angels sob uncontrollably for the pain.

All the people who shared our adventure, who witnessed the miracles of life, are no more – just memories of love.

Life is filled with anticipation and expectation. We look at our creation and begin the journey of contemplation and anticipation.

Should he be a doctor, should she be a teacher? Will she look like her mother or he like his father? Will I make the same mistakes my parents made, or will I be different? I will be the best parent. That is my pledge as I watch this tiny creature reach out to touch the world.

These dreams and visions are interrupted by tragedy. Our child has died and so has our posterity. Those on whom we relied for comfort and support have disappeared.

The romantic notions of success and abundance are lost in a tunnel of emptiness and despair. We sink into the depths of dejection. I believe that our ancestors were trying to teach us how to cope with adversity, some so devastating as to cause us to languish in total sadness. I believe the message is that terrible things happen and we must overcome these troublesome experiences by learning to extend a helping hand and to comfort and offer solace. This is our obligation as human-beings. his is our duty as survivors. This is what we have witnessed as a nation time and again.

We need not try to make sense of diminishing involvement but rather take the memory of the love we gave and the love we received and bundle them into a treasure chest of keepsakes and recollections.

We must endeavor to release the guilt because it only prolongs the agony and causes us to fall deeper into the pit.

And for sure God was not there to steal the future but rather to aid in the comfort needed to walk through the valley into a new day, a new life, a new beginning. We never forget, but we cannot stop time and remain in this spot forever. It is never easy to explain away a loss – a loss of a child, a spouse or significant other, but maybe we should try to understand that pain can be relieved with hope, faith, and a belief that life will continue for us and those we lose.

Rabbi Irwin Wiener, D.D., is spiritual leader of the Sun Lakes Jewish Community.

Being ground means being set free to live

BY PASTOR MARVIN ARNPRIESTER

Guest Writer

I’ve been having trouble with our home phone and internet service from time to time. Most of the time it has worked well with no complaints. Then, beginning late spring the internet service was slow at times. Earlier this month, the phone service had a loud hum anytime there was a call. At times, the internet was slow to almost non-existent

I called the serviceman who did something and pronounced it fixed. It was – for two days. Then Sunday, nothing was working. Went to a service center and complained. They sent out a repair supervisor who spent over three hours tracking everything out. He discovered a bad modem which he replaced. That did not fix the problem.

Finally, he checked the main connection box somewhere several miles away. He discovered the ground for the fuse link had never been attached. He attached it and presto; all is well. Service is better than ever! As I reflect on that experience, it strikes me that being grounded is not only necessary in electrical connections, but in our lives as well. When one is not grounded, one is all over the place because one is not secure in their person. They seem to be wishy-washy, always needing more than you can give them. You can’t pin them down for sure on much of anything as they are all over the place because of their need to please others.

Their need for attention seems overwhelming at times. As a result, they will fall for most anything in their desire to please, to be seen as important, to have the answer.

Not being grounded messes everything up. When one is grounded in their faith with a sense of whose they are, then they know who they are. You are aware there is a congruency about what they say and claim with how they live and interact with others.

They have a keen sensitivity to others with a unique ability to listen well and respond appropriately. Being grounded means they don’t have, nor do they need to have all the answers. They don’t need to fix others as they accept and affirm others as they are.

They seem to have a sense of serenity about them which is both invitational and accepting. Being grounded means, they are set free to live life fully and richly no matter the situation in which they find themselves. I hope the ground wire on my phone and internet service remains connected for trouble-free service. I hope to become more and more grounded as a person of faith, so I am living a congruent life.

Rev. Marvin Arnpriester is senior pastor at Sun Lakes United Methodist Church.

Follow The Source to all good things

BY LYNNE HARTKE

Guest Writer

“Follow the water up the mountain,” my neighbor said when I asked him the location of Mayflower Spring, one of three natural springs near our cabin in northern Arizona.

“The spring is one and a half miles from here,” he added, “down the Arizona Trail.”

Whenever our neighbor talks about the Arizona Trail, I pay attention. He just completed the 800-mile trek that traverses the entire north-to-south length of our state, from the border of Mexico to the border of Utah.

He hiked the trail in segments, keeping careful record of his distances. Mayflower Spring is mentioned on several Arizona Trail websites, with specific GPS coordinates and detailed instructions, since discovering natural water for people hiking 800 miles is something that should not be left to chance.

My neighbor was more casual.

“Head north until you see water crossing the trail and then follow the water up the mountain to the spring. You can’t miss it.”

I hoped he was right.

As someone who is directionally challenged and addicted to Google Maps, I would miss the voice on my phone telling me to turn left in 800 feet.

Feeling adventurous, my dog Mollie and I headed out down the trail lined with the first wildflowers of spring. Pink showy phlox. Franciscan bluebells. Delicate spring beauties.

Two mule deer bounded out of the underbrush in front of us, disturbed by our presence. About the time I was beginning to wonder if we had taken a wrong turn, I noticed water in a normally dry wash in front of us. Could this be it?

“Follow the water up the mountain,” my neighbor had said.

The water was little more than a trickle as it dribbled its way over small stones and fallen pine needles. Last year’s oak leaves blocked the flow, detouring the water past a tiny woodland garden of pink mayflowers.

We followed the tracks of elk, mule deer, and the footprints of other hikers on a path that wasn’t linear but curved to a destination we could not yet see.

Isn’t that the usual way of faith walks up mountains? Life is so rarely a straight line, but that doesn’t mean we walk alone. Jesus walks with us through all the curves and valleys.

While I prefer a neon arrow pointing me to the obvious route, God’s Word has left us instructions for the path to all that is good.

Deuteronomy 10:12-13 ESV says “And now, Israel, what does the LORD your God require of you, but to fear the LORD your God, to walk in all his ways, to love him, to serve the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul, and to keep the commandments and statutes of the LORD, which I am commanding you today for your good?”

Eventually Mollie and I came to a crumbling concrete reservoir that had been cut into the hillside where an old, galvanized pipe flowed from the collected, snow-melt water, before splashing onto a large boulder. I sat down to remove an irritating pebble from my boots. I wanted to be ready for the next leg of our journey.

It might not include a voice telling me when to turn left, but I knew there would be small signs to follow to the Source of all good things.

Lynne Hartke is the author of Under a Desert Sky and the wife of pastor and Chandler Mayor Kevin Hartke. She reminds readers to purify water in the wilderness before drinking. She writes at lynnehartke.com.