In The Wake of a Tornado

As I write this, the media is caught up in the devastation left by the tornado in Moore, Oklahoma. With the riveting images, reports of fatalities, the saddest news, of the loss of children, and the sudden, incomprehensible power of such a weather event, it is hard to concentrate on anything else. For me, here on Long Island, given recent events in our own corner of the world, there is a deeper sense of connection to the loss and pain in the Moore community. We, too, in the aftermath of Sandy, have recently seen homes destroyed, vehicles tossed into ragged piles, services suspended. And, we too, after the shootings in Newtown, have shared tears for families who have experienced the cruel loss of children. The photos and video from Moore track the work of first responders and concerned neighbors, rushing in to rescue the trapped, bring order back into chaos, comfort the bereaved. There is no fix for the loss of loved ones and the bewildering dislocation of such destruction, there is only the balm of community. As we ourselves experienced in the long aftermath of Sandy and Newton, when nothing can help, only community can help. As Ethical Humanists, we center our faith in that community, in human community. We don't believe that a tornado or a hurricane, or even a deranged gunman, is an act of god, either punitive or indifferent. Tornados and hurricanes are weather events, and while we do not know when the next event will occur, we do know there will be a next event, or a next tragedy. My response to that knowledge is to value those human communities and institutions which provide us with the wherewithal to meet such challenges. Communities and institutions that work to deepen our capacity for empathy, compassion, resiliency, fortitude and generosity; those human strengths that equip us to help. There will be opportunities to contribute to the Moore recovery, and I hope you will do what you can. And I want to remind us that the recovery in our own communities, here on Long Island, is far from complete. Experience in disaster relief teaches that after the event, after the attention, after the first and second and even third wave of disaster relief, after the camera lights are turned off, there comes a long, long period of recovery when te road back is still long and difficult, those who have born the greatest losses feel forgotten and adrift. This will be true in Moore, it is true here on Long Island. There is always an opportunity to help.