From Thanksgiving to Thanksgiving (and Isaiah to Isaiah)

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Dear friends,

A little over a week ago, when I was driving across Port au Prince to help the Sisters in their clinic, I found a woman on the street in the grips of death.

She was entering a coma from eclampsia, in only her 8th month of pregnancy, and I had to act fast on her behalf, calling a friend at a private hospital to assure her a place. I paid a truck (tap-tap) to race her there, since I could not, in any way, fit her in my small off road "polaris", and there was no time to lose looking for an ambulance.

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The Resurrection and Survivor's Guilt

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Dear friends and family,

No matter how beautiful and wondrous nature around us is, no matter how glad we are to see our family, especially the newest members (the sheer joy of being with the children), no matter how many friends we have gained over the years, with whom we can let down our hair, rant and rave, cry and laugh, no matter how full is our storehouse of good memories, we are never far from tragedy and its ability to turn upside down all the good things of our lives.

When we read about Lazarus, called back to life from his tomb, we put the period on the last gospel sentence, and assume the rest is glorious.

Yet we know from the scriptures themselves that Lazarus, survivor of death and burial, was stalked by the curious (and even more so by the morbidly curious), and there were even plans to kill him, because his resurrected life gave too much credit to the claim that Jesus was Messiah. 

I remember reading a book years ago called The Last Temptation of Christ. In it, Lazarus was asked by cynics, 

"You have known both life and death. Which do you prefer?" 

He replied, "it's six of one, and half dozen of another."

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Singers who lost their songs

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Dear Friends,

The story of the last days of Jesus on earth tell of the very worst forms of agony any person can endure.

The story also shows, in a very painful way, the most noble way to suffer.

Later, the story happily reveals the glory that awaits those who have been baptized in the fires of life, and have not been found wanting.

Those of you who who are still grieving a childwhose life ended at the hand of another

Those of you still grieving someone you loved dearly whose life ended by their own hand,

Those of you still grieving for someone torn from your life, swiftly or slowly, in such an unbelievable awful and unfair way,

for sure you understand, with your heart, the first five, of the seven high holy days.

Maybe you also (hopefully) grieve deeply for the stranger, for the children who were just killed by sarin gas in the Bombing of the Innocents, in Syria. 

About six months ago, a popular young Haitian singer, on leaving the stage after midnight, and getting into his car on Delmas road, was hit, and run over, by a wreckless driver, who then fled the scene.

That Evans is a completely broken young man, in every conceivable sense, is the understatement of the year.

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Now that the winds have died down...

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"As we accompany our neighbors in rural Haiti, after the devastation of hurricane Matthew, it is clear that they are eager to replant their gardens, fix their roofs, replace their drowned livestock.
 
They are eager to give their children something to eat for today, and an education and skill that will make them independent tomorrow.
 
Unlike a shooting start that cannot be followed to any destination, or even admired for very long, the dream of the rural Haitian people is rather like the north star, a compass and guide, steady and clear."

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