The world is a sad, stormy place.
There's an article on my Facebook feed right now about a mother who burned her child by stuffing it in her oven. ISIS militants are beheading anyone who does not agree with their twisted morality, and here in the US the residents of Flint, Michigan are subject to the horrors of undrinkable water brought about by a corrupt government. The world is undeniably full of evil, and unfortunately you don't have to look hard-or outside- to find it. I just smacked my brother with a wooden spoon and cursed violently at my poor laptop for not understanding telepathy.
We reap what we sow, and it looks like the seeds we've planted are yielding rotten fruit. Some days, I think I'm planting a garden in a graveyard, trying to get something, anything to grow. At this point I'd even take a metaphorical crop of Brussels sprouts.
Today is Passion Sunday, one week before Easter. In a Catholic Mass, the gospel reading is the story of the Crucifixion; the whole thing is more like a play than a dry Sunday morning reading. The priest, a lector, and the people all have their lines to be read at the appropriate times. The priest plays Jesus while the congregation plays the part of the people and the Pharisees.
I've never liked this mass. I'm down for a little crowd participation now and then, but the Passion Sunday readings do more than just ask for a distracted response. Playing the part of the angry mob in front of Pontius Pilate's house, we beg for Jesus's death.
"Crucify him, Crucify him!"
It's so easy to get whipped up into the mob mentality when dealing with evil. I can't help but want to blame God for it all. Grab your pitchforks and torches, folks- it's time to storm the castle. These days, the pitchforks become keyboards and the torches become insults slung across internet forums, but the mob is still there. I used to fall into this category of self-righteous warriors, but fortunately I've grown up a bit.
Another response to evil is the one I like to call the "Minnesota Winter" approach. Close the windows, bar the doors- there's a storm outside. While the wind and the snow freeze the world, I'll be safe inside my cocoon of blankets and comfort- the evil is an outside problem. I've been guilty of this approach to evil, too. To ignore the outside world in an attempt to save oneself is a selfish attempt to keep oneself pure- there's evil inside each and every one of us, to lock it out is actually to lock ourselves in.
Then there's the pancake method. I excel at the pancake method. You lie on the ground, flat like a pancake, lightening crashing above you, bemoaning your existence in this cursed world. Conceding defeat is certainly the easiest way to deal with the evils of the world, but you and I know the truth. We aren't pancake people- we aren't meant to lie flat on the ground.
I can't explain why evil happens. I don't mean to tell you how to live your wonderfully complex and beautiful life. I certainly don't purport to know the truth, and my relationship with the Creator single-handedly puts the practice in "practicing Catholic". There's only one thing I can be certain of: that no God would willingly give his son to the evils of the world if He didn't have a plan.
The Easter story does not end with the death of an innocent- neither will ours. I don't know how to deal with evil, and I know that I'll get lost in the storm if I try by myself. For now, I'll put my money on the guy with the two outstretched arms that span the gap between Heaven and Earth. I'll stand in the rain, mimicking Jesus's posture, arms open ready to gather whatever falls from the sky. With a storm comes the downpours, and while I don't know what I'll end up growing- "Mine, Oh thou Lord of Life, send my roots rain."
