He Who Has Ears, Let Him Hear

I heard a few news stories on NPR today while driving in the car. Each grabbed my chest harder as they reached my mind. The first was about a mass killing in Mexico of a group of migrant workers journeying to the U.S. This group of people was allegedly gunned down by a drug cartel looking for ransom money that the migrants didn't have. So the cartel shot the migrants. Those people killed over 70 of those other people. The victims were from Central and South America. I mourn for each of those people. From both sides.

The second story came out of Afghanistan. A small group of political activists were killed by the Taliban. Reportedly, the victims were proponents of a female running for a political office. The Taliban don't want the election, but they especially don't want a female to gain an office. The terrorists burned the hands of their captives and shot them in the head. And this is only the latest in a rash of killings. A few weeks ago, a dozen or so aide workers (many if not all of them Christian) were murdered by the Taliban. And others have been dealt the same fate as well. Mortifying. And in the name of Allah, God. I mourn for these people. On both sides of the gun. Or machete. or hatchet. or torch. or whatever. Please Father, sow chords of peace in these places. Save these men and women from this fate.

Further on, another story from the Afghan Province. Reports of failed American attempts to quelch corruption in the new political arena that America helped to put in place. Another futile effort to save men by the efforts of other men. And coming from a nation that can't find its way through the corruption and bureaucracy in its own back, front and side yards.

To close, these stories were separately juxtaposed with other stories or programming that quickly jutted the listening audience back into the feel-good entertainment that allows a wide-mouthed and fat-bottomed public to move away from the hurt, the pain, and misery that oozes from a broken world. I mourn this fact just the same as the tragedies of humanity referred to above. If the Spirit hadn't gripped my heart, I surely would have gulped down this false logic and gained weight in the seat of my comfortable khaki pants and I grew closer to my self-interest and further from the heart of God.

Father God,
Please mend the broken. The migrant, the alien, the drug lord, the terrorist, the activist, the diplomat, the mediaman and the aid worker. Pour out your Spirit on our lands and heal us. Uplift your Church from our cushioned seats and send us into the harvest. Full of your Spirit. Full of love, joy and peace. Full of patience, kindness and goodness. Full of gentleness, faithfulness and self control. And send us out in care for one another. Brother to Brother. Sister to Sister. Brother to Sister. And Sister to Brother. Sow chords of peace and gladness, and break apart the roots of bitterness that ensnare us, divide us, and lead us into tempation. In the name and power of Christ Jesus. Amen.