I scheduled the following poem to go up before Friday's tragedy, and now it breaks my heart a little bit, but I'm going to let it stand. The memory of those children's faces will be the genesis of the changes in gun control policy that this country so desperately needs to make.
Also, it's important to note that the media is now reporting that the perpetrator may have been on the autism spectrum, which is properly defined as a developmental disorder rather than mental illness. There may still have been some sort of psychiatric disability involved; that's still being parsed out and will continue to be in the days to come.
At any rate, in yesterday's post I spoke briefly of the need for changes in services to the mentally ill because there is often some mental illness involved in instances of mass shootings. It's important not to draw unwarranted conclusions about others whatever their state of mental health, however, and I wanted to make a note of that here. The Autistic Self Advocacy Network has released a statement that speaks to that necessity, and I urge you to go read it.
Again, on this third Sunday of Advent-- the Sunday we light the pink candle, symbolizing joy-- Lord, have mercy.
Expectans Expectavi
by Anne Ridler
The candid freezing season again:
Candle and cracker, needles of fir and frost;
Carols that through the night air pass, piercing
The glassy husk of heart and heaven;
Children's faces white in the pane, bright in the tree-light.
And the waiting season again,
That begs a crust and suffers joy vicariously:
In bodily starvation now, in the spirit's exile always.
O might the hilarious reign of love begin, let in
Like carols from the cold
The lost who crowd the pane, numb outcasts into welcome.
2 comments:
I've been wondering lately, before Friday, about mental illness and violence. Specifically, the question of whether every person who kills another is experiencing mental illness of some kind, whether diagnosed or not, chronic or momentary. It ties into the question of sin for Christians--we live in a broken world where all our actions are tinged with the possibility of sin. Regardless of his diagnosis, might the shooter be considered ill simply because he shot people?
I don't know where to go with this yet. Still marinating.
I hear what you're saying, totally and completely, Alice. The intersection of morality and clinical pathology looks to be a very messy one. To further complicate, what does it mean that all our actions are tinged with the possibility of sin while simultaneously being held under the umbrella of redemption and salvation? How does / should Jesus' sacrifice push us, shape us, and mold us from a standpoint of service and activism?
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