Lives Worth Taking?

You've probably already heard by now of the rescue of Captain Phillips by US Navy Seals off the coast of Somalia earlier this week (Easter in fact).  One of the 4 pirates was aboard the USS Bainbridge for medical treatment.  The remaining 3 guarded the captain.  They had been without food or water for several days and had run out of fuel.  Eventually the Somali pirates arranged for food and water to be taken to the stranded vessel, and they accepted a 200' tow from the destroyer.

The long and short of it was this: The tow rope was shortened to 100', the Captain's life appeared to be in immediate danger as evening came, and three snipers took the lives of each of the three pirates still on board with a single shot.  I was saddened to read that John Reinhart, CEO of Maesrk Line Ltd. who owns the ship, had this to say.  "Everyone's worked around the clock.  It's magnificent to see the outcome."  This seems to be most everyone's reaction.  A feel good story with some old fashioned American hard work and a happy ending.

Except that 3 people lost their lives.  I'm glad that the Captain is safe, but is there no remorse that it came to this?  Are these Somalis worth anything? Maybe if we had stayed in Somalia during the Black Hawk Down incident we wouldn't have desperate people turning to piracy.  Who were these people? Were they hardened criminals, warlords?  Have they ever killed anyone before? Or were they family men, desperate to make money somehow to avoid starvation?  Commandeer a ship and get paid millions without even touching a single sailor - that seems like a pretty good deal. Was this their first time? Were they terrified when they became surrounded by American warships?  The Somali who was aboard the Bainbridge was seeking medical treatment for a gash he received during the hijacking.  This doesn't sound like somone out to harm people.  It sounds more like a cry for help.

Who where these people?  I guess we'll never know.

Now there is a deeper issue here, one far more complicated than a simple hijacking. What was left of the country's legitimate local economy is now being destroyed by piracy.  Some are getting rich.  Other fisherman can't sell their seafood because ships won't sail into port through Somalia's costal waters for fear of being attacked.  There is so much that is wrong with this situation, I do not intend to oversimplify by focusing on a sole, isolated incident.  I am saddened and relieved by what took place this past Easter, however, we need to wake up to the rest of the problem, not just care when it only affects us directly. A final thought:

"Indeed, that was an apt and true reply which was given to Alexander the Great by a pirate who had been seized.  For when that king had asked the man what he meant by keeping hostile possession of the sea, he answered with bold pride, 'What thou meanest by seizing the whole earth; but because I do it with a petty ship, I am called a robber, whilst thou who dost it with a great fleet art styled emperor.'"

Saint Augustine's The City of God

holy ground prayer service

last night i attended a prayer service at st. theresa little flower, a catholic church in an area the kansas city star recently labeled the 'murder factory.'  my wife and i, along with a group of close friends, will be moving to this zip code in a few weeks and decided to make the trip from manhattan to be a part of this prayer service.

it is somewhat of a long story, how this all came to be, and so i'll spare you the details except for a few important ones.  God laid kansas city on the heart of a member of our group last semester, and he began to seek direction as to what exactly obedience to this call would look like.  meanwhile, my wife and i knew we were headed back to kansas city after i graduated to work, and wanted to resist the temptation of getting literally caught in a lifestyle of selfish spending on ourselves.  we began looking into other areas to live besides the ones we had known, and gradually we found that the Lord was leading us down a similar path as our friend.  we began praying together with a few others who were interested, asking God to give us direction on where to live and that he would lead people to our group if they were meant to live in community with us.  long story short, he brought together a group of 5 people and provided a place for us to live, which happens to be in the so-called murder factory, zip code 64130.  God truly does care for his children - he knew we needed a place to lay our heads at night and he laid it in our laps!

attending the prayer service last night was interesting and a little surreal; i felt my presence there was mostly as an observer rather than a participant.  though i felt unsure of how to engage with this new culture i am unfamiliar with, i enjoyed it greatly!  just to be there, to be at the prayer meeting for the area in which God has called us to live was wonderful.  we were actually there!  we had a presence!  i can't wait to move into the neighborhood.  it's going to be more difficult than i think i realize, but i'm ready to give all that He has made me to be for the task that has been laid before me.

you who listen

several weeks ago i spent two days and three nights in complete silence. i was at taizé, an ecumenical monastery in france, located in a small town for which the monastery is named. something i noticed about the brothers is how quiet and soft spoken they were.  and what good listeners!  in meeting with the young people after evening prayer, they simply stood there and for the most part, listened.  young people have said that they feel accepted at taizé, that they feel at home.  maybe this is why.

so what's with all the blogging?  is this our attempt to be known, to be heard? during my time of silence (which i may write more about later) i found such a greater capacity to delve into other people, even without communicating with them.  i simply watched, observed - listened but from the edges.  it was wonderful.  i could focus my attention on them without my mouth blurting out my own opinions and desires.  and never in those two days did i ever complain about a single thing.  i found that as soon as i kept myself from getting in the way, i could really experience a person - a unique being - in a richer way.

has the blank page of a post yet unwritten become the one who knows us best? the one who does not interrupt our thoughts, who lets our personality birth ideas unhindered?  does it let us take them back while trying to find the right words, all without saying, "is this what you mean?"  it gives us the relaxed and un-pressured space we need to be ourselves.

it's funny.  i'm not sure i could have said all that in person.