Look at me here – a half century, plus a bit more, a half century of living among the subterraneans at the edge of the naked city where it smells of marijuana, the neighbors play their music too loud and their dogs bark all night. These mechanics, hairdressers, and taxi drivers. These field-hands, deli-shop owners, and veterinary assistants.
And look at the news: another protracted war in Europe with sprawling death count. Look at the news: another endless, pointless war in the Middle East.
“Knock it off, Carter. You lost your idealism years ago.”
Hear it? That is, despite the sneering belligerence, the voice of trembling fear and no peace. No peace.
Look at me here, a half century of September reminders – falling leaves and fading memories – a half century of resignations, recriminations, failures, and false starts. I don’t want to live in the past, but I don’t understand the present and I cannot see the future. How do I disrupt the disorder? How do I deescalate the situation without matching their rhetoric? Without meeting violence with violence?
“Work out your own salvation,” the voice says, “with fear and trembling. Are you afraid, Carter? Are you afraid? You know you should be.”
It’s true. I am.
“And why do you fear?”
Because the secret things belong to God and who can understand his own errors?
Philippians 2:12
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