Why do we hate?

I don't understand it. How is it that so many millions, billions, of people in this world honestly feel it is better to hate and to fear than to extend a hand in friendship? How can anyone raise their children to hate, to fear, even to murder those who are different? Are we really so different from each other? What would happen if we all chose to enact a change, to let that change begin right here, right now. To let go of hate and fear and learn to celebrate our differences.

Can't we all unite in condemning cowardly acts of terror, both those aimed at us and those perpetrated in our name as vengeance or some twisted form of justice? How do young children, innocent of the ways of hatred, turn into monsters, into killing machines, if not at the hands of those charged with raising and educating them, those they should be able to trust the most? When did a piece of land, any piece of land, become more important than life itself? They want it, we want it, no one is willing to share, no one is willing to budge or to compromise. In the end, we are only hurting ourselves. Beliefs on each side are equally strong, no one will bend, and thus, we both lose. How much more could we achieve together?
I've been to the homes of people on both sides of the conflict that is destroying our region. Shared their bread. Drank their wine. Laughed together. Cried together. Both are filled with people who love their children, who work hard to provide for them, who want a better future for them. Isn't it time to say "stop" to the extremists on BOTH sides who would throw all that away in their misguided need to win at all costs?

Take a moment to read these lyrics, to really read them, and then to listen, and then tell me we can't do better.

There Were Roses
(Tommy Sands)

My song for you this evening, it's not to make you sad
Nor for adding to the sorrows of this troubled northern land,
But lately I've been thinking and it just won't leave my mind
I'll tell you of two friends one time who were both good friends of mine.

Allan Bell from Banagh, he lived just across the fields,
A great man for the music and the dancing and the reels.
O'Malley came from South Armagh to court young Alice fair,
And we'd often meet on the Ryan Road and the laughter filled the air.

There were roses, roses
There were roses
And the tears of the people
Ran together

Though Allan, he was Protestant, and Sean was Catholic born,
It never made a difference for the friends, it was strong.
And sometimes in the evening when we heard the sound of drums
We said, "It won't divide us. We always will be one."

For the ground our fathers plowed in, the soil, it is the same,
And the places where we say our prayers have just got different names.
We talked about the friends who died, and we hoped there'd be no more.
It's little then we realized the tragedy in store.

It was on a Sunday morning when the awful news came round.
Another killing has been done just outside Newry Town.
We knew that Allan danced up there, we knew he liked the band.
When we heard that he was dead we just could not understand.

We gathered at the graveside on that cold and rainy day,
And the minster he closed his eyes and prayed for no revenge.
All all of us who knew him from along the Ryan Road,
We bowed our heads and said a prayer for the resting of his soul.

Now fear, it filled the countryside.There was fear in every home
When a car of death came prowling round the lonely Ryan Road.
A Catholic would be killed tonight to even up the score.
"Oh, Christ! It's young O'Malley that they've taken from the door.''

"Allan was my friend,'' he cried. He begged them with his fear,
But centuries of hatred have ears that cannot hear.
An eye for an eye was all that filled their minds
And another eye for another eye till everyone is blind.

So my song for you this evening, it's not to make you sad
Nor for adding to the sorrows of our troubled northern land,
But lately I've been thinking and it just won't leave my mind.
I'll tell you of two friends one time who were both good friends of mine.

I don't know where the moral is or where this song should end,
But I wondered just how many wars are fought between good friends.
And those who give the orders are not the ones to die.
It's Bell and O'Malley and the likes of you and I.

There were roses, roses
There were roses

Take a few minutes to listen to Tommy sing this beautiful, haunting song, made all the more terrible for its telling of a true story. There Were Roses was written about Ireland, but its message speaks to all regions in conflict.



It's been thousands of years. An eye for an eye isn't working, we're all going blind.

We can do better. We need to do better. We MUST do better. Start here. Start now. Start today. Preach peace.


The Sunday Scribblings prompt for this week was "I don't get it."