It is the small things that get to me. The young man hanging, as a last desperate measure, on the front grille of the construction truck the other day. Before being torn down by the riot police and hired security men.
And being violently thrown, pushed around and handles inside a detention circle.
Before it was all over for this round and the police left.
But the next time I see him. He is back at the gate. Doing bows for peace.
And I think of other young men that I have met. In other places. Other struggles. Who have chosen another, more violent route. And I think to myself, this is quite unique.
Then I went to mass. With two disobedient priest who have paid the price for opposing the base. Father Joseph and Father Mun Jeong-hyun. Being beaten by the police. Jail. That sort of thing.
I look down. I look up. Father Joseph is missing.
No he is not missing. He is walking with the bread and blood of Christ down to the people blocking the gate. Here he is coming back. Walking through the traffic. Another day, another walk.
People often ask me what they can do. For peace. Against violence. Ignorance. For other people.
Against military and political forces with a moist moral surface.
The answer is simple.
Do something. Do something you are good at. Something with a heart.
Write. Sing. Inspire people. Document. Analyze. Make it personal. Deliver the Eucharist in the street. Go sit and talk and eat oranges at the gate of a naval base i Korea. But do something.
notonlyformyself 