Another sad day.
Another day when we must set aside time to come together to decry violence, to stop our ears against the cries of children who’ve experienced the awfulness we are capable of committing against one another.
Another day when we have to look each other in the eye and confess that, despite our best intentions, we have failed not only to love one another sufficiently but too often even to recognize those who are different from us as worthy of such love.
While the atrocity of the attack in Nice highlights our failure to live peacefully together, its aftermath demonstrates that there are more of us who desire a world in which our children can finally hold hands across the barriers we have erected between us.
Today, with the tears barely dried from our eyes, we abide in the hope that the hope that abides in us will provide the courage we need to look to a new day.
I don’t know about you, but I long for that day.
I long for the day when it’s no longer necessary to call a press conference to remind the world that people of faith should stand in solidarity in times like these.
I long for the day when interfaith support of our Muslim friends is not only unremarkable but unnecessary—because everybody already knows that that’s what our various faith traditions require of us.
I long for the day when our political discourse will no longer countenance politicians who shame us by their lack of compassion and empathy, who make us smaller as human beings through their amplification of our fears and the repeated marginalization of those with the least amount of power to protect themselves.
I long for the day when I can turn on the television without the constant fear of hearing of some new horror human beings have inflicted on one another—and perhaps just as importantly, the day when the reasons people feel compelled to inflict those horrors will have been addressed because of our shared commitment to a just and equitable world in which everyone can flourish … regardless of whom they worship, or where they come from, or what they look like, or whom they love.
I long for the day when our children need no longer be ashamed or afraid of the world we are bequeathing to them.
Today is a sad day. But together, with each other’s faces etched into our minds, we are determined to look toward the coming of another day.