Friends,
Like most people in Oakland—and like a lot of people around the globe—I have been unable to stop thinking about the Ghost Ship fire. I am heartsick over the loss of life. I am pained by the complex economic realities that force the Bay Area’s low-income people into dangerous and unhealthy living situations, a condition shared by artists, students, the elderly, the unemployed, immigrants, those with mental and physical heath issues—the list is long. Even Montclair Presbyterian Church, with all of our resources, has struggled to pay for building permits and to abide by their directions. The cost of living safely is considerable, which means often our community’s most vulnerable populations do not live in safe places.
When I think about the Ghost Ship I have two abiding convictions. First, I am convinced no one should have to risk a life—and certainly no one should have to lose a life—in order to find a place to live, create art, or dance to live music. Second, I am convinced the safety of buildings where we live, work, and play should be a right and not a privilege afforded only to the wealthy.
But those convictions—righteous though they may be—exist in my mind as a way of distracting me from the overwhelming sadness that might paralyze me if I allow myself to look into the abyss of overwhelming grief that yawns in the place where 36 beautiful lives once lived and loved and created and danced. What I know, however, is that as people of faith, we need to go where the grief is. We need to mourn as our community mourns. We need to shed tears with those who are bereft. This is important spiritual work.
And then, in due season, once the intensity of the grief has subsided, we need to work for change in the way housing safety is made available to the residents of Oakland. It will be hard work, just as grieving is hard work. Both grief and societal transformation will require dedication and courage.
My prayer for all of Oakland, is that our tears will be as profound as our grief, that in the end we will find peace, and that when the time for grieving is past we will stand firm in our resolve to make Oakland a place where all God’s children can live and work and dance in safe joy.
God’s Peace,
Ben