I've been thinking more about Rosh Hashanah -- which begins next Friday. (Sidebar: I subscribed to "Jewish Holidays" on my Google Calendar, and I find it interesting that it says "New Year" and "Day of Atonement" and "Festival of Booths" rather than "Rosh Hashanah" and "Yom Kippur" and "Sukkot.")
Last night, Mary Borsellino wrote:
Today is World Suicide Prevention Day, apparently, which I guess means it was yesterday in Australia really but whatever.It was strange to me today that it was a grey day, since I remember so clearly walking back from Seelye under the bright blue sky. (And yes, that makes me sing Ani, even though I have -- and have always had -- problems with that song.)
I am lucky because several of my closest friends have suicidal thoughts on a regular basis. That sounds completely insane, but this is how it works: we are honest with each other. We can talk about it openly and know that we'll be met with compassion and understanding, not horror and revulsion. Monsters in the dark don't have the same power when you turn on the light.
A year and a half ago, somebody important to me couldn't find that light switch for her own darkness. It was too much for her, and she died. Her death is one of the most horrifying things that's happened within the universe of the people I know and care about, and within myself.
I wrote my biography-zine, Sharpest, last year for one simple reason: I wanted other people to be able to read something which felt like a conversation, an open and sincere one of the sort my friends and I have. I've had a few feedback letters from readers which suggest that for some people, this is exactly what I've done, and those letters make me cry. If I never manage to write anything good ever again, I at least got the most important one out.
Morning always comes again. Please stick around to see it.
A recent post on the blog "when love comes to town" talked about what happened after the 9/11/2001 attacks:
- And that is precisely what [Renee] Girrard describes in his work regarding scapegoats: pinning all of our hatred and fear on the scapegoat always unifies a society - but only for a season - and then more violence is needed to bind people together. Further, societies rarely consider the consequences of scapegoating - history is never told from the perspective of our victims - so we rarely feel remorse or act in repentance.
- Which is why the story and reality of Jesus is unique: for the first time, Girrard suggests, history is told from the perspective of the innocent scapegoat. For the first time we can see the horrible consequences of our violence. Indeed, what makes the passion of Christ so important in NOT the horrible violence a la Mel Gibson. That, sadly, is all to ordinary. No, what makes the passion life changing is the awareness that Christ died to expose this horrible sin and invite us - with God's grace - to stop it.