A second night of thunderstorms

The winter (the rainy season) begins here in May or June. This year it seems to have started early, but last night we had a rather severe thunderstorm. The rains weren’t torrential as I have often seen them, but there was a huge lightning strike and thunder clap really close to the house. The lights went on and off several times and there was only a very low current until this morning.

During the days, though, it has generally been hot and sunny. In many ways I like this weather. Sun and warmth during the day; coolness at night.

I don’t know why I decided to write on the weather – again. But I’m trying to relax a bit after a busy month and really just find myself reading, doing some computer and internet stuff (not really work related), and trying to relax. I was going to go out to do a little shopping but the rain stopped me. Which is probably good.

I just finished a novel that is both frightening and hopeful. Steven Galloway’s The Cellist in Sarajevo. The event that provides the background is one that has fascinated me since I heard of it.

On May 27, 1992, people were waiting for bread in a square in the besieged city of Sarajevo. Several mortar shells were fired on the square; 22 people were killed and at least 70 injured. The next day Vedran Smailovic, a cellist, came out the next day, dressed in his tuxedo and played Albinoni’s Adagio in G minor. He did this for 22 days, in memory of the victims.

John McCutcheon has written a song, Streets of Sarajevo. There’s even a wiki page on Vedran Smailovic. The simple courage of his act has inspired me for many years.

The novel. however, follows three other characters whose lives are filled with disturbing events. I read parts of the book at night and, though I did not have nightmares, the evil that the novel narrated filled me with a dis-ease.

Yet the novel ends with small signs of humanity that emerged in the lives of the three very different characters. Not exactly resurrection nor hope, but glimmers of what might be possible in the midst of hellish situations.

I need to read novels like this. But, even more, I like to read biographies of real people who have made real choices for life, for peace, for the poor.

While writing this reflection I thought of the Trappist monks of Tibhirine, Algeria, who were killed in 1996. Checking my notes, I was surprised that the news of their martyrdom by extremists was announced on this day, May 23, 1996. There are several books on the witness of these monks to Christian-Muslim reconciliation. One I recommend is John W. Kiser’s The Monks of Tibhirine: Faith, Love, and Terror in Algeria.

But what is most awe-inspiring is the letter that the prior had written about two and half years before they were killed. It was opened by his family on May 25, 1996. Father Christian Chergé, OCSO, wrote of his desire that this not be seen as an excuse for anti-Muslim prejudice. Knowing that his death was possible he wrote,

I should like, when the time comes, to have a moment of spiritual clarity
which would allow me to beg forgiveness of God
and of my fellow human beings,
and at the same time forgive with all my heart the one who would strike me down.

But the final words, words of tender forgiveness, are heart-rendering, addressed to his future assassin:

And also you, my last-minute friend,
who will not have known what you were doing:
Yes, I want this THANK YOU and this GOODBYE [Adieu]
to be a "GOD-BLESS" for you, too,
because in God's face I see yours.
May we meet again as happy thieves in Paradise,
if it please God, the Father of us both.
AMEN ! IN SHALLAH !

“May we meet again as happy thieves in Paradise.” What a unique way to express the mystery of Christ’s death and resurrection that opens the way for all to life with God.

A full copy of the testament can be found at http://www.monasticdialog.com/a.php?id=497