Examining my feelings, I find that I am slowly going back to normal, or at least easing into the new normal. For me, normal is thinking about me, myself and mine and not thinking about the things that have been troubling the world lately. I am worrying about Christmas and finding lunch. Meanwhile…
- Cops who shoot unarmed people are still free. That’s not a new normal, per se. But it is new to my consciousness since the outcries from Ferguson, Staten Island and Ohio finally found my ears and heart.
- The second anniversary of Sandy Hook came and went. I am sorry to not have even mentioned it in church. I guess the slaughtering of the innocents is now normal?
- We are still killing people with drones. Should I be surprised if it happens to me?
- LGBT youth are still killing themselves with shame.
I don’t understand my dull resignation. I am moved for a period of time. I draw conclusions and beliefs about those instances that have stayed with me: about guns, about warfare, about race, etc. Nevertheless, I allow time to shade my consciousness. I do get genuinely overwhelmed with the breadth and depth of violence in the world, but it is sincerely not close to me.
I think this is the definition of privilege. I forget about these matters because I can. At the same time, I feel spiritually dull. The world-changers are marching and I am worrying about lunch. It’s hard to confess when you are the priest. But confess I must.