I’d show you my wedding photo if I could, but I’m afraid they are in storage. The Spouse and I were married in Knox Church, Ottawa. Right at the corner of Elgin and Lisgar. Right down the street from the War Memorial. After the wedding, we wandered the downtown in our fancy clothes, posing for photos in all the beauty spots. My favourite wedding photos were taken in front of the Parliament Buildings. There’s something about that wide open lawn and those neo-gothic arches that just looks great in black and white. (And shows off the white dress and flashy smiles quite nicely, too.)
Last Wednesday, I heard about the shootings on Parliament Hill and at the War Memorial first through facebook and then I followed it on twitter. Usually, I use social media to keep (frivolously) in touch with friends and family, to publicize church events and connect and collaborate with colleagues. And, of course, to let y’all know when I post a blog. It isn’t my prime method of news consumption, but last Wednesday it was. I didn’t use it to wade into the online conversations. I just read and worried and prayed and waited with the rest of the country, looking at my friends’ profile pictures and praying some more. It felt like keeping vigil.
The next day, I spent a lot of time listening to CBC Ottawa online. The producers had opened the phone lines, asking the question “Is Ottawa a different city this morning?”
It was so good to hear all the answers. They were varied, yes. Some scared. Some sorrowful. Some courageous. But honest, so honest about how they were feeling about Ottawa and about Canada. The journalists hosting the show created an open space where anyone could speak just what was on their heart. I stood at my kitchen counter, kneading bread, listening to these Ottawa voices talking about their kids, their commutes, their memories of carol services, concerts, and yoga on Parliament Hill. They talked about where they had been on Wednesday and where they would be on Remembrance Day. It felt very personal.
There’s the challenge right there, isn’t it? To look around our crowded cities, our noisy spaces and to see the personal in everyone. So many people and opinions can easily become a blur, but each face and each expression is personal.
Cpl. Nathan Cirillo was murdered because Michael Zehaf-Bibeau only saw him as a symbol.
Likewise, in Saint-Jean-sur-Richelieu, Martin Couture-Rouleau only saw the uniform of Warrant Officer Patrice Vincent.
But, things can’t be so black and white. Seeing others as flat symbols is neglecting to see the personal. It is to fail to see, and that lets hatred seep in instead.
We have a strong calling from Christ to love even our enemies and to humbly try to see in everyone the image of the Maker. Doing so won’t necessarily keep the streets safe. But it will help our hearts, even when things feel very dangerous around us.
One tweet stood out for me from Wednesday’s events.
I stood next to the stricken soldier laying at the War Memorial 2 hrs ago, but now I’m seeing nothing, so im pausing. Be safe, don’t hate.
— Stu Mills (@StuMillsCBC) October 22, 2014
