Lately I’ve been reading the news and seeing the images coming out of Ukraine, and alternating between hope and desperation. The hope comes from the grassroots resistance, young people making Molotov cocktails to fight off the Russian invaders, and grandmothers getting in the faces of the young soldiers using a combination of shame and compassion to get them to abandon their posts. The response of the international community and global businesses, including those based in the US, using economic sanctions to try to stop Putin and his oligarchs gives me a glimmer of hope.
Like everyone, I’m worried about inflation, and the effects it will have on those most at risk financially, especially with regards to heating oil, gasoline and food. I kvetch about having just paid nearly $1,000 to fill the oil tank at home, but I know we have the money, when many don’t.
It some ways, it feels like 1939 must have felt, except with the threat of nuclear warfare looming large, and the power to destroy the world at the flip of a switch left to the whims of madmen.
Meanwhile, I’m hearing from people about their ambivalence toward Ukraine, and that nation’s role in the holocaust, as Putin makes claims of fighting anti-semitism.
Mostly I’m sad about the children, mindful of the effect this war will have on them for the rest of their lives, and the effect that will have on a global scale. I’m also profoundly troubled by the people I know who marvel at the bravery of the children who make it to the the border of Poland, perhaps in the company of other children, but without a parent or responsible guardian. Often they are the same people who have been able to justify treating with disdain Latin American children who make it to the US border unaccompanied. That attitude of disdain often leads to moral justifications for detaining children who are fleeing violence, and even separating them from their families. It’s easier to feel sorry for children whose parents you don’t think of as your enemies.
There’s so much to worry about. And so few places to find real hope.
I wish I had some sage advice that would make it all better. I wish I could tell you to write letters to your legislators in Washington, telling them how to solve the problem, as if there were an easy answer. As if it could automatically make you feel better.
I wish just telling you all to take the news in small bites, and to avoid getting sucked into the dregs of the 24-hour news cycle would be helpful. But I know that isn’t easy to do, especially when you care.
All I can say, knowing that it isn’t the best solution in the world, is to take care of yourself. Take care of the people you love. Be kind to strangers you may encounter. Seek and find your common humanity. Make it your spiritual practice.
Know that there are no easy answers. And that you are not alone, just as the people of Ukraine are not alone.
May this horror end.
In Peace,
Rev Denis
