Evil Came Too Close to My Grandsons

Yesterday was my birthday. (And, by the way, thanks for all the birthday greetings.) There is absolutely no reason to discuss on this blog how many of those birth celebrations I've experienced. But this birthday was special. It was special because just before the worship service, I stood in front of the chancel, talking to a parishioner, when a familiar voice called my name. Down the center aisle a two-and-a-half year old grandson propelled himself as he screamed my name. He was followed by his brother who did not run but walked in a more dignified and demure manner, a pace that reflected his more mature four-and-a-half years.

I don't think I have ever been as glad to see them. The very sight of them made my heart skip a beat. Their presence on this Sunday morning churned up the depth of my love for them, reminded me of how precious they are, how innocent they are, and, in this world in which we live, how fragile they are as they attempt to navigate through the good and the bad of this world. Seeing them brought to the surface the tension that is part of our modern life.

Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut, is but a short drive down the road from where those two grandsons live. They skipped down the aisle of my church just two days after twenty children, only two years older than the four-and-a-half year old, were gunned down by a deranged killer. The Governor of Connecticut made the comment that Evil had come to visit that New England village that day. And Evil visited too close, way too close, to where my grand kids live. They are too young to become acquainted with the horrors of this world. And, yet, there it was: Evil wrecking havoc in my grandchildren's neighborhood.

I preached my sermon; the worship ended, and those two grandchildren, my daughter-in-love, and Uncle Edward headed to a local restaurant. It was a good lunch, with lots of laughter and teasing. We colored the pictures on the table mats at the restaurant. And, because I was there, it was okay to have a lunch of pancakes and scrambled eggs, both smothered in maple syrup, and a chocolate fudge sundae.

I watched those kids having fun with me. I watched their glimpses toward their mother whenever they realized I was offering a departure from normal behavior. And, as I watched, I thought of a teacher sheltering children in a closet as gunshots reverberated down the hallway. I remember the news reports that she made a concerted effort to have each child look into her eyes as she said, “I love you. I love you.” She was sure they were going to die and she wanted them to die knowing they were loved.

So, I told my grandsons I love them. It's all I can do. In a short while they will return to that place where they live, down the road where Evil walked and spread Evil's destruction. I can tell them I love them. And I tell them that because I am convinced that love can overcome evil.

I can react to the shootings in a childish way by demanding there be more guns. Or I can react with a childlike faith, the childlike quality seen in my grandchildren, a faith that recognizes the goodness of this world and holds fast to the belief that in the end Evil will be defeated by Love.

Comments

[Curtis Grissett]

Parson, yesterday, both in church and in the restaurant which followed, I found myself more patient and tolerant of the noise and antics of the young children around me. I found myself wishing my grandkids were around, I knew that I would see some of them in a few days but I also knew there were far too many parents who would gladly exchange their quiet for the noise. Thanks for your wisdom, hope your birthday was blessed and have a blessed Christmas. Peace, Curtis