I remember hearing an interview on the news several years ago. It was just after Anders Breivik, the convicted perpetrator of Norway's worst act of violence since the Holocaust, was sentenced to 21 years in prison for his terrorist act. 21 years is the longest sentence allowed under Norwegian law. Yet Breivik is a neo-Nazi and had killed dozens of people. He is not an ordinary criminal. A journalist asked an ordinary Norwegian if he though Breivik's term ought to have been longer, in light of his terrible crimes. "No," I recall the man responding. "These laws represent our values. If we give up our values in the face of terror, then we have lost ourselves."
I recall these words now, as we mourn deaths from terrorist acts all over the world. We mourn all those who lost their lives in Brussels, Turkey and Nigeria this week. We mourn all those who have lost their lives in the war in Syria, and remember that many of them are civilians who did not choose to live in the midst of conflict. These sudden explosions of violence, as well as the lingering and oppressive violence of war, remind us of past traumas. We remember the Paris bombings, the Boston marathon bombing, and September 11th. Fear and terror have not lost their power to rend our hearts. We are not immune from sorrow and pain.
It's a blessing we're not immune, in a way, because the pain we feel reminds us that we're human. It reminds us that terrorism is an affront to our ideal of human community with peace, liberty and justice for all. Our pain is a sign to us that something is wrong with a world that has such wanton violence in it. It is a reminder that our values call us to witness to the possibility of a different and better way to be together.
We can be tempted, in the aftermath of terror, to give up on that world. We can feel the pull to respond to violence with violence and hatred with hatred in return. We can let these awful acts turn us away from our values. We can begin to make plans to hit back.
Yet I remember that Norwegian man. And I remember that we find ourselves in a particular moment in the Christian year, a moment of mourning the death of a spiritual leader killed by state violence in the most gruesome way possible. This could have been a moment of turning toward retribution. But the story tells us instead that this moment, this time of grieving and loss, is a time to keep faith with our highest values and ideals more than ever. That world we hope for is so close, the story reminds us. The day will yet come when life will triumph over death. Stay awake! Don't give in to the temptations of violence! The love of truth and the spirit of Jesus calls us to something better than that. They call us toward our highest values of life, justice and mutual respect.
On this day, in this week, in this hard time, we are living in a Good Friday world. We are living in a world of violence and terror, a world of war and suffering. Yet we are also always living in the Easter world, the world of love and compassion, the world of mutuality and kindness. At times we may lose our vision of that world. Faith inspires us to keep fixed on it even when it dims, to stay true to our highest values and our deepest truths, knowing that the Peaceable Way will yet open before us.
In faith,
Rev. Sarah C. Stewart
