Quiet grieving in the company of the bereft — neither providing answers nor hasty words about “being in a better place” — is among the highest and humblest ways we live out our Romans 12 calling to “weep with those who weep.” It’s even true when we comfort the profoundly grief-stricken who are complete strangers. This is what I told 35 Biola Chorale students as we rode through the night’s rain toward Jindo Island on Monday, April 28, 2014.
Oh! Little town of Newtown, how still and sad we see thee lie. Newtown. About 100 miles from the little town where I grew up. That Connecticut bedroom village where local industries long manufactured fire hoses and folding boxes. The town where the game Scrabble began. The bucolic community where pizza places are called Carminuccio’s and elementary schools are called Sandy Hook. The New England hamlet where names of streets describe its pastoral landscape, names like Head of Meadows, Boggs Hill and Deep Brook.
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