The Value of a Life

Molly and I attended a funeral a few days ago.  It was for a handsome, composed, competent man.  He had taken his own life.  We hear of many shootings these days.  Even this week.  Often, before he's doine, the shooter also, in the end, kills himself.

As Christians, we feel called to compassion.  We think about how hard life can be; about inner burdens people carry; about depression as illness that often overtakes everything.  We think about the "blue" side of Christmas; of "the dark of the year."

We are sad.  We shake our heads.  We take into our own lives the wounds of others.

We find returning soldiers unable to bear the memories of war who then kill themselves. Out on "the Rez" our journeying Pilgrim Center friends were sometimes begged to come.  "We need you," they'd say.  "We are having a suicide a day."

We go through many emotions as we try to fathom the meaning of suicide in our time.

We know for sure that every life is precious.  It is a life given by God.  A life for which He had plans and hopes and dreams.  It is not our right to take any life.  But, how to protect it?  How to keep any hand -- especially that person's own hand from rising against it.

As faith people, Jesus calls us to look at life: specifically His life.  "Come with Me," was His call.  "Come on the journey.  I will show you many things."  And so, He did.  Sick people healed. Blind people seeing.  Lame people walking.  Dead people rising.

His Word was power.  Power which came from the Spirit.  And the Spirit, they saw, was full of love.  Jesus said,"I am the Light. And, you are the light of the world."