Three weeks ago today, news was just breaking about the mysterious disappearance in Tracy of an eight-year-old girl. “Not again,” so many of us were thinking. Prayers began ascending for another innocent child, and everyone hoped for a positive outcome. On April 6th, her body was found.
Everybody’s worst nightmares proved true. And suddenly we were filled with rage and indignation. The vast majority of us pictured some heart-less, wicked man, a perverted predator working alone in the dark of night.
Even I, the priest, was muttering about no punishment being severe enough.
“I may be a minister, but I’m not going to pray, ‘forgive them, Father, for they don’t know what they’re doing.’ Whoever killed little Sandra knew exactly what he or she was doing, and who this beautiful innocent child was. ‘For the merciless there is no promise of God’s mercy’ (James 2:13).”
The need to ferret out and eliminate society’s cancers, “the evil ones in our midst” is so embedded in our collective hard-wiring, we’ll gladly condemn and execute (should I say “crucify?”) the first suspect that surfaces. In the process of blood-letting, we feel relieved, yet create ever-deeper diseases.
This reminds me of a conversation I overheard on Wednesday the eighth.
Four days later, on Easter Sunday, their theories came true. The three Somalis who’d held Captain Richard Phillips hostage since that same day got a taste of American foreign policy. At a range of just 82 feet, in spite of rough seas and a darkening sky, sharpshooters blew out their brains.
“Praise the Lord,” I thought, seeing the coincidence of timing as a sign that God would liberate his people from captivity, just as He’d raised His Son Jesus from the dead. The Lord doesn’t rejoice at the death of a sinner, but for the sake of the innocent victim he occasionally kicks butt. Like any shepherd worth his keep, God doesn’t run away when the wolf comes to “steal and slaughter and destroy” (John 10:10). The cries of the persecuted rise up as one, clamoring for justice and vindication, anxiously awaiting “the time to destroy those who lay the earth waste” (Relation 11:18).
“Jesus conquered sin and death,” I reasoned. “We need to do the same!”
Chats and blog commentaries on the Internet played out the Somali drama.
“The M107 .50-caliber long range rifle,” reported GlobalSecurity.org’s Military Menu, “is semi-automatic and is being fielded to infantry soldiers. It can engage targets to 2,000 meters with precision. At 29 inches long, the frame mounted, bolt-action XM107 weighs 28.5 pounds with optics.”
A blogger explained: “Scoped 50 calibers are in common use in Afghanistan, and are very effective at ranges farther than the eye can see. Takes an expert spotter, and in some cases, triangulation. You’d only need one hit with a 50 caliber round; the impact tends to be fairly explosive...”
With this in mind, “Reddog” celebrated Easter: “Today is a good day for Americans. We killed three of those sorry Somali’s holding an American hostage, and we wounded a fourth. Now it’s time to bomb Somalia back into the stone age. Whoops, I forgot, Somalia already is in the stone age.”
But a Somali sympathizer in London fumed: “You dirty swine. The pirates are still superior, 3 down, 12 more born. We don’t die, we multiply!”
“You’re praising Somalia pirates?” Ruralman08 retorted in disbelief: “Do you always praise thieves, murderers who prey off of others? I do believe there is a jail cell waiting for you in the very near future and what the hell are you doing in Great Britain with a terrorist attitude like that?”
Finally, some fool proposed this solution: “Now all they have to do is nuke Somalia. One Big Bomb...One Bright Flash, One problem solved.”
Meanwhile, others were arguing for a more compassionate view of pirates.
It was time to take a step backwards and see the bigger picture. Ruralman:
“Look Dude, I can understand the need, the poverty that fuels the path these young men have had to take. Okay? I just don’t believe in bringing the wrath of the world down on people thru international criminal activity.
“The real culprits are the powerful warlords that have created the very poverty these young men seek to escape. They would do better by their people to pirate the warlords and give a decent central civilian government a chance. One that could maybe, just maybe, bring some peaceful prosperity to a war ravaged land and a war-weary people.” (ruralman08)
Envisioning those sun-baked Somali kids three days on a pathetic lifeboat, seeing their humongous ransom melting away and drain through their bony fingers like ice cream on a hot summer afternoon, I did wonder why anyone would risk life and limb for an uncertain outcome. And my delight at hearing of their painless demise grew bitter as I remembered once again the image of the Iraqi insurgent, falling face down and then detonating.
“She said there were pieces and body parts everywhere,” mused the hunter, referring to the sharpshooter that brought down the roadside terrorist. So I suddenly lost my sense of exhilaration and remembered the horror of war.
A few days later, we would confront the same dilemma with Sandra Cantu.
“Words are so shallow. How a person could do this to a child is beyond my comprehension. This is a person who is evil and while we know it exists, feeling it bear its ugliness upon someone so full of life and potential is [hard to fathom]. Something horrible happened to this child and we will all hold our children closer tonight as a result. This demon has no safe haven. They must live with themself and even an almighty forgiving God could not forgive this act of terror on an innocent little girl. Sweet Sandra.”
“I want to see her put away and get what she deserves,” a participant in the “Angel of Tracy” memorial service commented this past Thursday. And yet, as horrible and angry as we all ought to feel, the image of suspect Melissa Huckaby’s face, wincing with shame and despair throughout the nation’s media, was not at all the one we’d expected. This was the mom of Sandra’s best friend! The granddaughter of a minister, a Sunday-School teacher, she shattered our demonized effigy of the cold-blooded killer.
Now we’re left with an unspeakably tragic death, a deeply wounded family, and no one whose punishment and death will satisfy anybody, cooling the fires of righteous indignation. All we’re seeing is a series of broken lives.
Words of Praise for an Angel on Earth
The service at West High Thursday for Sandra Cantu was extremely moving. One after the other, gathered together with millions who watched by television or internet, who listened by radio or podcast, or who attended on site, politicians, chaplains, and leaders of law enforcement agencies, school administrators and members of Sandra’s extended family, shared the profound impact which the loss of “Tracy’s angel” has had in their lives. This “beautiful angel who lit up the room,” as cousin Simone would say, this “awesome sister”, this “precious child,” testified her aunt, “may have been small, but she was bigger than life”.
“A crime against a child is a crime against humanity,” declared Senator Barbara Boxer (could someone remind her about this when it comes to the unborn?). “Children represent our hopes, our trust, our innocence, our possibilities - the best in us,” Boxer, the mother of two children, reflected.
Jerry Brown, Attorney General of California, exhorted us to live our lives more fully: “While we cannot bring it back, we can appreciate it in each other…how do we treat the miracle of life?” Meanwhile, City Council and Police Department member Steve Abercrombie advised us to let go of the question “why?” and to focus on “How”: how to avoid this kind of tragedy and how to turn the pain of loss and senselessness into renewed conviction.
Tracy’s Chief of Police marveled at how this child of such carefree nature “became much more than a little girl who lived down the street, a little girl who lived in a small town in California.” And her Jacobson Elementary School Principal (Cindy Sasser) spoke of this “truly warm and beautiful person, both inside and out”. The death of this “caring and nurturing” girl demands a “renewed commitment to maintain a safe school environment”.
“Hug your children daily and tell them how much you love them. Cherish every moment with your kids”, Chief Thiessen had urged. “…Each of you …make a commitment…we are our brother’s keeper, and must work to better our communities, finding ways to continue showing that you care…”
As for Sandra Renee Cantu (March 8, 2001 - April 6, 2009), “nobody can forget the sweetest girl in the world” (her aunt’s words). “Jesus would take her into his arms,” said Police Chaplain Don Higgens assured us all, “and say to her, ‘sweetheart, you’ve done everything you needed to do.’”
“She flew up to heaven on the wings of an angel,” declared her principal.
May we treasure the gift of life while we still have life. May we do all we can to protect the most vulnerable in our midst. And may God forgive us for having ever caused an innocent human being to suffer. It happened to God himself, long ago, in the person of Jesus Christ, but once was enough.
Sandra Cantu’s unspeakably tragic death will bear fruit in our lives if we never take the gift of life - nor the gift of eternal life in Christ - for granted.
Thank you, Sandra, for smiling down upon us from heaven. Rest in peace.
Everybody’s worst nightmares proved true. And suddenly we were filled with rage and indignation. The vast majority of us pictured some heart-less, wicked man, a perverted predator working alone in the dark of night.
Even I, the priest, was muttering about no punishment being severe enough.
“I may be a minister, but I’m not going to pray, ‘forgive them, Father, for they don’t know what they’re doing.’ Whoever killed little Sandra knew exactly what he or she was doing, and who this beautiful innocent child was. ‘For the merciless there is no promise of God’s mercy’ (James 2:13).”
The need to ferret out and eliminate society’s cancers, “the evil ones in our midst” is so embedded in our collective hard-wiring, we’ll gladly condemn and execute (should I say “crucify?”) the first suspect that surfaces. In the process of blood-letting, we feel relieved, yet create ever-deeper diseases.
This reminds me of a conversation I overheard on Wednesday the eighth.
Abductions that Demand a Comprehensive Response
Two middle-aged men, one a soldier discharged for a disabled back, the other a fellow experienced in hunting, were discussing a number of locker-room topics. It came to pass that they considered how to dispense of the Somali pirates. “Those high-powered rifles they make nowadays,” one boasted, “can take out an enemy combatant at 1,000 yards.” The other agreed, and began relating a war story. “I know a female tank gunner who blew away an Iraqi terrorist just as he was arming a road-side bomb. One bullet through the head. And when the SOB dropped, the bomb exploded.” Four days later, on Easter Sunday, their theories came true. The three Somalis who’d held Captain Richard Phillips hostage since that same day got a taste of American foreign policy. At a range of just 82 feet, in spite of rough seas and a darkening sky, sharpshooters blew out their brains.
“Praise the Lord,” I thought, seeing the coincidence of timing as a sign that God would liberate his people from captivity, just as He’d raised His Son Jesus from the dead. The Lord doesn’t rejoice at the death of a sinner, but for the sake of the innocent victim he occasionally kicks butt. Like any shepherd worth his keep, God doesn’t run away when the wolf comes to “steal and slaughter and destroy” (John 10:10). The cries of the persecuted rise up as one, clamoring for justice and vindication, anxiously awaiting “the time to destroy those who lay the earth waste” (Relation 11:18).
“Jesus conquered sin and death,” I reasoned. “We need to do the same!”
Chats and blog commentaries on the Internet played out the Somali drama.
“The M107 .50-caliber long range rifle,” reported GlobalSecurity.org’s Military Menu, “is semi-automatic and is being fielded to infantry soldiers. It can engage targets to 2,000 meters with precision. At 29 inches long, the frame mounted, bolt-action XM107 weighs 28.5 pounds with optics.”
A blogger explained: “Scoped 50 calibers are in common use in Afghanistan, and are very effective at ranges farther than the eye can see. Takes an expert spotter, and in some cases, triangulation. You’d only need one hit with a 50 caliber round; the impact tends to be fairly explosive...”
With this in mind, “Reddog” celebrated Easter: “Today is a good day for Americans. We killed three of those sorry Somali’s holding an American hostage, and we wounded a fourth. Now it’s time to bomb Somalia back into the stone age. Whoops, I forgot, Somalia already is in the stone age.”
But a Somali sympathizer in London fumed: “You dirty swine. The pirates are still superior, 3 down, 12 more born. We don’t die, we multiply!”
“You’re praising Somalia pirates?” Ruralman08 retorted in disbelief: “Do you always praise thieves, murderers who prey off of others? I do believe there is a jail cell waiting for you in the very near future and what the hell are you doing in Great Britain with a terrorist attitude like that?”
Finally, some fool proposed this solution: “Now all they have to do is nuke Somalia. One Big Bomb...One Bright Flash, One problem solved.”
Meanwhile, others were arguing for a more compassionate view of pirates.
It was time to take a step backwards and see the bigger picture. Ruralman:
“Look Dude, I can understand the need, the poverty that fuels the path these young men have had to take. Okay? I just don’t believe in bringing the wrath of the world down on people thru international criminal activity.
“The real culprits are the powerful warlords that have created the very poverty these young men seek to escape. They would do better by their people to pirate the warlords and give a decent central civilian government a chance. One that could maybe, just maybe, bring some peaceful prosperity to a war ravaged land and a war-weary people.” (ruralman08)
Envisioning those sun-baked Somali kids three days on a pathetic lifeboat, seeing their humongous ransom melting away and drain through their bony fingers like ice cream on a hot summer afternoon, I did wonder why anyone would risk life and limb for an uncertain outcome. And my delight at hearing of their painless demise grew bitter as I remembered once again the image of the Iraqi insurgent, falling face down and then detonating.
“She said there were pieces and body parts everywhere,” mused the hunter, referring to the sharpshooter that brought down the roadside terrorist. So I suddenly lost my sense of exhilaration and remembered the horror of war.
A few days later, we would confront the same dilemma with Sandra Cantu.
Demonizing the Suspect, Pre-Judging the Trial
Again, the Internet would provide the chalk-board for a million comments: “Words are so shallow. How a person could do this to a child is beyond my comprehension. This is a person who is evil and while we know it exists, feeling it bear its ugliness upon someone so full of life and potential is [hard to fathom]. Something horrible happened to this child and we will all hold our children closer tonight as a result. This demon has no safe haven. They must live with themself and even an almighty forgiving God could not forgive this act of terror on an innocent little girl. Sweet Sandra.”
“I want to see her put away and get what she deserves,” a participant in the “Angel of Tracy” memorial service commented this past Thursday. And yet, as horrible and angry as we all ought to feel, the image of suspect Melissa Huckaby’s face, wincing with shame and despair throughout the nation’s media, was not at all the one we’d expected. This was the mom of Sandra’s best friend! The granddaughter of a minister, a Sunday-School teacher, she shattered our demonized effigy of the cold-blooded killer.
Now we’re left with an unspeakably tragic death, a deeply wounded family, and no one whose punishment and death will satisfy anybody, cooling the fires of righteous indignation. All we’re seeing is a series of broken lives.
Words of Praise for an Angel on Earth
“A crime against a child is a crime against humanity,” declared Senator Barbara Boxer (could someone remind her about this when it comes to the unborn?). “Children represent our hopes, our trust, our innocence, our possibilities - the best in us,” Boxer, the mother of two children, reflected.
Jerry Brown, Attorney General of California, exhorted us to live our lives more fully: “While we cannot bring it back, we can appreciate it in each other…how do we treat the miracle of life?” Meanwhile, City Council and Police Department member Steve Abercrombie advised us to let go of the question “why?” and to focus on “How”: how to avoid this kind of tragedy and how to turn the pain of loss and senselessness into renewed conviction.
Tracy’s Chief of Police marveled at how this child of such carefree nature “became much more than a little girl who lived down the street, a little girl who lived in a small town in California.” And her Jacobson Elementary School Principal (Cindy Sasser) spoke of this “truly warm and beautiful person, both inside and out”. The death of this “caring and nurturing” girl demands a “renewed commitment to maintain a safe school environment”.
“Hug your children daily and tell them how much you love them. Cherish every moment with your kids”, Chief Thiessen had urged. “…Each of you …make a commitment…we are our brother’s keeper, and must work to better our communities, finding ways to continue showing that you care…”
As for Sandra Renee Cantu (March 8, 2001 - April 6, 2009), “nobody can forget the sweetest girl in the world” (her aunt’s words). “Jesus would take her into his arms,” said Police Chaplain Don Higgens assured us all, “and say to her, ‘sweetheart, you’ve done everything you needed to do.’”
“She flew up to heaven on the wings of an angel,” declared her principal.
May we treasure the gift of life while we still have life. May we do all we can to protect the most vulnerable in our midst. And may God forgive us for having ever caused an innocent human being to suffer. It happened to God himself, long ago, in the person of Jesus Christ, but once was enough.
Sandra Cantu’s unspeakably tragic death will bear fruit in our lives if we never take the gift of life - nor the gift of eternal life in Christ - for granted.
Thank you, Sandra, for smiling down upon us from heaven. Rest in peace.