Words

This column is supposed to be about Syria.  It is supposed to be about how a man who won a presidential election based in large part because he was not George W. Bush has become a less aggressive, more articulate version of George W. Bush.  This column is supposed to be about how parts of Syria have become hell on earth, and about how throwing bombs into hell probably won’t help much in the long run.


This column, though, is not about Syria, because not all terrible things happen in the Middle East.  Sometimes terrible things happen where you live.

Our modern life is saturated by words. As an English teacher, words fill the textbooks I use in class and the papers that I grade.  Words are spoken by colleagues and students, read through e-mails and heard over intercoms.  Hours are spent every two weeks writing words to fill this column.  As a parent, I have spent hours reading words from books about trucks and princesses and hours listening to words from cartoons.

Very recently, though, all the words seemed to vanish, at least momentarily, because sometimes the right words don’t even seem to exist.

Words vanished when the search party ended.

Words disappeared when the suspect was arrested.

Words failed when I was asked from the backseat of our car.  “Did they find Willow, daddy?”  Despite all the words at my disposal, I could not mutter a single sound.

Humans make meaning out of their lives and try to make sense out of this world through language.  Words are used and often invented to help us comprehend life on a planet that can be both terribly destructive and breathtakingly beautiful, often on the same day.  Thus, it makes sense that language falters in times like this, and instead of offering us answers we are just left with barely audible questions.

How?

Why?

Here?

Effingham is home to what is considered the largest cross on the planet. Although not everyone who sees it agrees with what they believe it represents or whether or not it should have even been built in the first place, I do think it is fitting to consider that cross in such a time as this.

For many the cross symbolizes sacrifice, which the community has displayed in droves.  People who had never met the victim or her family, many of them from far away, sacrificed their time, energy and resources during the early days of the tragedy and beyond.

The cross can also symbolize mercy, however, and healing.  It can symbolize love amongst neighbors, and even love between enemies.

Many words have been spoken in the last two weeks, in face to face conversations, through social media, in newspapers, and on television.  As we continue to try to understand and make sense out of an act so terrible, we might remember that words are not only useful for understanding or making sense. 

Fortunately, words can also help to heal.

God knows what kind of words we need right now.