BLOG 3/4/15. THE HAUNTING TRAGEDY OF NOT BEING LOVED
How convenient it is to become immune to the human tragedies on our doorstep. We can read of atrocities committed by those of ISIL and wonder how such inhumanity can take place. Or we can read of the of the huge number of refugees from that war now living in Jordan, and be overwhelmed by the sheer scope. Then, too, we can wonder what is the attraction of that terrorist organization that lures kids from Europe, from the UK, or from the United States to join in such horrors. But there are humanitarian tragedies right on our doorsteps what with all of the kids who have never been loved, who are the product of the irresponsible sexual passions of irresponsible parents, or of parents who have never known loving parents of their own—and maybe kids who have been bullied at school without recourse, and they become angry. There is that entire segment of our emerging generation that has never known stability, or structure, or love—youth who have never been hugged, or told how much they are loved.
This is not an economic thing. Many of my own generation, who grew up in the Great Depression, in which our parents struggled to make ends meet, yet at the same time we experienced structured homes, and parents who loved and cared. We also had neighbors who knew each other, and felt some responsibility for each other and for each others’ families. Yes, we had tragic lapses, and occasional crimes, but basically there were caring school teachers, parents who provided for us sanctuaries of love, and also who insisted on disciplines that formed us into responsible adults.
Then I have known more than a few who grew up in the housing projects, and in houses that weren’t homes, and who were left to find companionship with other rootless and undisciplined folk in gangs. I have even become a surrogate parent to some of these, and have heard their stories, and what it meant to them to have someone who really cared for them when their own biological parents were hardly a factor in their lives. It would be quite understandable, if you had never been loved, and had little hope of anything other than seeking momentary thrills, … to see some adventure in Syria, or in some gang episodes, some risks that would take the total boredom out of life, or give you a place to vent your anger.
We are at a moment where none of us live in isolation from this emerging generation, of which a sizable factor in all economic segments are pretty much left to theirs own devices—maybe to be raised by what they can access on social media. To live hopeless, and loveless, and meaningless lives is hell. Where there is no family, then gangs become the family, and the enforcer of their own moral (?) codes, and where any deviation from the gang norms can be dangerous.
Why am I saying all of this, which is so obvious? Why am I preaching to the choir of those who subscribe to my blogs? Answer: Because we Christians are called to be those messengers of hope, of love, of God’s purpose to make all things new—to be children of the Light in the cultural darkness and corruption and human tragedy—not in the abstract, but by putting all of our best loving and creative skills to work to actually form a new generation out of one with so much stacked against it. There are good examples out there, like, for instance, school teachers who daily engage all of this difficult set of rootless, and unloved, and on-their-own young men and women. Maybe their word of love, or a hug would surprise the kids, … but at least they would know that there were those who cared and are willing to engage in costly love. I’m saying this do a bit of consciousness raising. It’s a huge issue, and politicians expostulating on all kinds of irrelevant issues, unfortunately, are not apparently going to be much help. It would seem that the church’s mandate to “love your neighbor as you love yourself” is apropos to what I am addressing here, … and a big hug to you, too!
