| From yours to mine to ours Riding roller coasters is fun. The twists and turns are unpredictable and fast. One of the best things about roller coaster riding is that a normal ride is over in about two minutes. Living in the metropolitan Washington area in these past few weeks was a roller coaster ride of another sort, with just as many unpredictable turns and none of the fun. Because a shooter or shooters randomly picked people to kill or wound, families experienced grief beyond measure, our lives were disrupted with fear and anxiety, and the routines of millions of people were changed. A poll published in the Washington Post went so far as to suggest that these shootings had more of an impact on peoples lives than either the events of Sept. 11, 2001, or the anthrax-laced letters. Now, in many theme parks in the United States, there is more than one roller coaster to choose from. People pick and choose which one they want to ride and then move on to the next. In many ways, life is like that. We Americans, for the most part, pick and choose which roller coaster we want to ride, and when the ride gets too boring, old or dangerous, we move on to the next ride, looking for stability, fun, peace and safety. There are many people, though, who dont have that luxury. For them, the roller coaster ride of violence never stops. These people live in neighborhoods and areas of our country where violence is normal, and sometimes tragically expected. When someone is shot here, it rarely ends up on page one of the newspaper or leading off the 6 oclock news. Case in point: in a two-week time span when the sniper was actively gunning down his victims, there were 18 so-called normal murders in the District of Columbia. There was also an arson fire in Baltimore that killed a family of seven because it is reported the mother snitched on drug dealers in the area. The fire was started to silence her. Yes, the sniper shootings are tragic. Ugly. Heinous. But the other violence is just as tragic, just as ugly, just as heinous. The difference between one and the other is the difference between your tragedy, my tragedy and our tragedy. If/when something bad happens to you, it is your tragedy. As long as the something bad doesnt affect me, I can keep the news at arms length, give it some psychological distance, as it were, and thus, keep myself safe. If/when something bad happens to me, it is my tragedy, and I expect (or want, or need) people to come to help me, to offer me prayers and comfort. I cannot keep this tragedy at arms length it has happened to me! but there are some coping skills I can use. If/when something bad enough happens to all of us a hurricane, a tornado, sniper shootings it becomes our tragedy. The media cannot seem to report on these tragedies enough, and we grow weary (sometimes) of hearing about them. The journey of moving from your tragedy to my tragedy to our tragedy can be incredibly long or short, depending on circumstances. One reason why the sniper shooting gathered so much media attention is that these events moved quickly to our tragedy in a matter of hours. The whole community was involved, indeed, even the world awaited every word from the lips of Police Chief Charles Moose. (This was the lead story on BBC news in Great Britain several times the week of Oct. 21. A friend from Germany called, concerned about the shootings.) One of the reasons the normal killings in Washington, D.C., and elsewhere do not gather this much attention is that they are stuck in the your tragedy category. Much of society seems content to let this violence happen in these locales, as long as it is away from us, as long as it stays your tragedy. As United Methodist Christians, we are called by the Prince of Peace to make the journey from yours to mine to ours. We are called to make friends with our enemies, to bring healing and comfort to the lame, to give sight to the blind and to proclaim release to the captives. We are to bring good news to the poor. At no place in the Bible do we read that it is okay for Christians to allow some deaths and grieve others; at no place in Scripture do we read that it is okay to sacrifice certain peoples lives as long as they dont bother or annoy us. It is time it is long past time for people in our cities, towns and neighborhoods to say enough is enough. At the Dawson home in Baltimore last month, Bishop May became a tangible witness for an end to violence (see article, page 1). He challenged the drug dealers in the crowd to take his life and spare the children. It is only through the power of the Holy Spirit that such witnessing can be done. It is time for more United Methodists to get off the roller coaster of yours/mine and join the journey of ours. Together, we can make a difference, one life at a time. | 
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