Violence and Fear

I learned yesterday that there was a home invasion on Sunday in the boarding house next door to my home on Staten Island. Later in the day, a short bit after agreeing with my friend Karen to skip the walk we had hoped for, I heard that a man had been found bludgeoned to death in the park we frequent.

The new parsonage in Astoria has three entrances, each with metal gates and 2-3 locks. There are bars on the windows.

I found crime statistics on the internet. On a scale of 1-10 (1 being lowest), the national average for both violent crime and property crime is 3. For Astoria, it is 6 in each of these categories. For our neighborhood on Staten Island it is 6 in property crime, with a 7 for violent crime.

Even as I pray for the victims of these crimes, even as I pray for the offenders, there is the voice in my head that just keeps saying "not me, Lord. Don't let it be me." And last night as I lay in bed, unable to sleep, listening for noises outside, I wished I didn't live here. But where do you run to? It may happen less frequently elsewhere, but it still happens. Living in an area with a score of 2 or even 1 is no guarantee that you will be safe.

We could move. It might be difficult; and we would have to give up some things. We might be able to find that combination of safety, inexpensiveness and work that we would desire. But we have the resources to do it. The men and women in the boarding house don't have that luxury. The families in the apartment building across the street don't have any other choice. To abandon the neighborhood is to abandon them.

I suppose I will sleep better tonight. That's the way it usually works. And I will pray. Tonight's prayer is a sigh too deep for words.

God bless you all, and keep you safe this day.