In the photo, the little girl is naked, emaciated, and hunched over in the dust, while a vulture waits in the background for its next meal. The photo won a Pulitzer in 1994, and Carter killed himself 3 months later. I can't post the picture because it's so disturbing, but you can find it here.
The last several days, I've been haunted by this image.
Everytime I see it I have a visceral reaction, a borderline panic attack. Fortunately (maybe) it had been years since I'd last seen it, but on Thursday of last week I saw it several times and I've been pretty messed-up ever since. The image is seared into my brain. It's almost too much to handle, partly because it makes me think of my son - the little girl looks to be about the same age. Could she even make tears, or was she too dehydrated? Where were her parents? What was going through her head? What are the dying thoughts of a 2 year-old?
I had been praying God would help me get a bit more in touch with my emotions, partly as a counter to my typically too-logical and too-detached approach to things. But then I came across this photo three times in one day. Once it appeared in an article lampooning advertisements, and twice in transparently manipulative Facebook posts protesting the protesters of Cecil the Lion's killer. (As an aside, can we all just agree that protesting and mocking people who are themselves protesting things that grieve them is in poor taste?)
Is it possible that God brought that picture into my life again? Was it an unexpected answer to my prayer? God what are you doing? I've been asking him to help me engage my world in a more emotionally engaged way, and in a way that image answered my prayer. But in another way, it made me profoundly angry... with God.
Clearly, I'm still processing through all this, and there have certainly been other things I've learned the last 2 weeks, but part of what this blog is about is the real story of what God's doing in me during sabbatical, and this is a pretty major thing. So, my prayer for this week takes the form of lamentation. It's a lament for the little girl in the photo as well as other, more current events. I invite you to join me in praying, lamenting before God, and begging him to come with justice.
Yahweh Elohim, the God-Who-Is
Where were you?
Why did you stay your hand?
With a breath you gave life to clay
with a thought you conjured manna from nothing;
With power you rescued your people;
and in you we have lived and breathed and had our being.
But now my heart burns within me;
my soul weeps, my thoughts in disarray;
my sight betrays me, my food turns to dust.
Governments abuse;
photographers click;
committees reward;
opportunism surrounds a dying baby...
Alone. Hungry. Without understanding
while the world watched...
While you, Yahweh, watched.
How could we, yes, but how could you?
How can you, still?
When will you arise?
When will you rescue?
When will you bring food to the starved
and comfort to the afflicted?
When will you satisfy the hopeless and despondent?
When will you bring justice for the betrayed?
When will you do something?
Bring your kingdom now,
please don't wait.
Restore the dead,
and do it soon.
When your kingdom comes,
we will worship you in your mercy,
and all our songs will be full.
I will sing with freedom,
and be unburdened of the shame
of our collective voyeurism and neglect.
Yahweh Elohim, the God-Who-Is,
Please bring that day soon.
ADDENDUM:
I came across this meditation in a favorite prayer book, Celtic Daily Prayer, and I thought it offered a genuinely thoughtful and encouraging engagement with all this:
The Cry to God as 'Father'
in the New Testament
is not a calm acknowledgment
of a universal truth about
God's abstract fatherhood.
It is the Child's cry
out of a nightmare.
It is the cry of outrage,
fear, shrinking away,
when faced with the horror
of the 'world'
- yet not simply or exclusively
protest, but trust as well.
'Abba Father'
all things are possible
to Thee ...'
Rowan Williams
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