Yesterday afternoon my mom forwarded me a link that gave some initial information about the bomb explosions at the finish line of the Boston Marathon.
I didn’t really know what to do or think.
Next thing I know I ‘m getting texts from Josh, and remembering that we know people that run in the race.
I know people who go to watch the runners cross the finish line.
I know people who volunteer in the medical tents.
I’ve watched the marathon.
I know these people.
But still, I didn’t know what to do or feel.
I didn’t look at video footage online. I didn’t search for pictures. I instant messaged with my friends in the city on gmail, and asked questions. But I felt numb mostly.
And I tried to feel sad for feeling numb, but my emotions were just turned off.
And I went home, and talked to Josh and I could hear the sadness in his voice. And I told him about how I couldn’t feel anything. Then our President came on TV and Josh hung up to listen to him. I turned on NPR on the radio in our hallway, and sat down by it to listen.
And then I cried. Boston is my city. These are my people. Those sidewalks, the ones spattered with blood, are the same sidewalks that I frequently ventured upon. Patriot’s Day is a holiday I celebrated, to remember the beginnings of our great nation and have an excuse to drink a mimosa at 9am while watching the elite runners. The energy, the passion that the marathon brings….people from all over the world…this celebration of greatness, athleticism, history, culture…is marred with the blood of our people.
I was horrified to know that family’s of the Sandyhook victims were invited as special guests to the Boston Marathon finish line. 26 people died in Newtown, and so there was a special significance to remember them at the 26 mile marker.
Sadness swept over me for our President. For how many tragedies will he face the cameras and address our nation – to bring bitter news. My heart hurts for him, for the burdens he carries.
My thoughts turned to Mother Olga, our beloved nun from Iraq. How many wars and bloodshed she saw when growing up…and now here, too, in America. More blood. More hatred.
But instead of responding with despair, Mother and the Daughters of Mary of Nazareth held vigil. And Mother shared these words:
“We really need a lot of grace to be able to overcome the darkness of hatred,” said Mother Olga. “We just celebrated the power of the Resurrection. We know that there is no sin too big for the cross — we’ve been redeemed by his blood; we’ve been covered by his mercy, and we have to remember that we have to turn to the power of Resurrection.”
She added, “[The only way] we can overcome such evil, such darkness, is by turning to the light of the Resurrection.” [Justin Bell, NCR)
We’re with you Boston, and all the people from across the globe who came to your streets to celebrate, to cheer. In the darkness remember that there is no greater light than that of our Lord’s Resurrection. Even when it seems like darkness is winning… Jesus has won the victory. He has overcome sin. There is nothing that can keep us from His love. We must place our trust, our hope in this. As Pope Francis said in his first homily as Bishop of Rome:
” Hoping against hope! Today too, amid so much darkness, we need to see the light of hope and to be men and women who bring hope to others. To protect creation, to protect every man and every woman, to look upon them with tenderness and love, is to open up a horizon of hope; it is to let a shaft of light break through the heavy clouds; it is to bring the warmth of hope! For believers, for us Christians, like Abraham, like Saint Joseph, the hope that we bring is set against the horizon of God, which has opened up before us in Christ.”