It is a terrible time, when you have to talk to your children about what to do if they are confronted with a shooter. When you discover that another depraved, hate fueled attack has shattered lives again, here in Florida or in a Nigerian village or the battered towns of Syria.
And it’s not just terrorism that I struggle to explain to my children. It is the vast wealth of the West compared to the struggling poor around the world. It is the appalling disparity in health care, education, and opportunity and the vulgar spectacle of the current election.
Amid such global injustice and violence and idiocy and greed, I find myself clinging to the words of the Hebrew prophets, who, 2,500-plus years ago, wrote of the impending doom coming upon ancient Israel for its failure to uphold God’s moral laws.
There’s Amos, a humble shepherd, who spoke of God’s wrath against the wealthy who cheat the poor, selling a human life for a pair of shoes (Amos 8:6). I went shopping last week — in a real store, not secondhand— and bought a pair of shoes that were likely made by a woman in a sweatshop trying to support her family by toiling over the same machine without benefits or breaks so that I could get a good deal. Is this not slavery?
There’s Hosea, who proclaimed God’s charges against the common people for their lack of character, saying, “There is no faithfulness, no kindness, no knowledge of God in your land. You make vows and break them; you kill and commit adultery. There is violence everywhere—one murder after another. That is why your land is mourning,” (Hosea 4:1-3). Does this not describe the senseless killing of 49 people at a dance club and a young singer signing autographs?
There’s Micah, who wrote of those who lie awake at night, thinking up evil plans, who rise at dawn to take their neighbor’s land and possessions, cheating the poor, simply because they can. “You steal the shirts right off the backs of those who trusted you… You have evicted women from their pleasant homes and forever stripped their children of all that God would give them,” (Micah 2:8-9). The economic gap— in our own country and around the world — is greater than ever as the wealthy grow richer by defrauding the poor.
If God did not overlook the sins of his people in ancient times, why would he overlook ours now? Yet despite our bloodshed and violence, our greed and evil plans, God is still calling.
“Turn to me now, while there is time. Give me your hearts,” God spoke through the prophet Joel (2:12-13). “Come with fasting and weeping and mourning. Don’t tear your clothing in your grief, but tear your hearts instead. Return to the Lord your God, for he is merciful and compassionate, slow to get angry and filled with unfailing love.”
“Who knows?” Joel wrote. “Perhaps he will give you a reprieve?”
For the sake of our children, I pray that he will; but first we must repent. Maybe for those shoes I bought, I will donate an equal amount of money to a business fund for women in the developing world. What will you do?
———
Meadow Rue Merrill writes and reflects on God’s presence in her ordinary life from a little house in the big woods of Mid-coast Maine. Her memoir, “Redeeming Ruth,” releases in May 2017. Find her at www.meadowrue.com
Comments are not available on this story. Read more about why we allow commenting on some stories and not on others.
We believe it's important to offer commenting on certain stories as a benefit to our readers. At its best, our comments sections can be a productive platform for readers to engage with our journalism, offer thoughts on coverage and issues, and drive conversation in a respectful, solutions-based way. It's a form of open discourse that can be useful to our community, public officials, journalists and others.
We do not enable comments on everything — exceptions include most crime stories, and coverage involving personal tragedy or sensitive issues that invite personal attacks instead of thoughtful discussion.
You can read more here about our commenting policy and terms of use. More information is also found on our FAQs.
Show less