Last night, as I was sharing myself with God before retiring for the night, two pairs of phrases began forcing themselves more and more into my thoughts. They captured my attention to such a degree that I decided that I must try to compose some thoughts and share them with you. The words were: lebenskultur and todeskultur, and lebenskampf and todeskampf. I do not think I need to tell you the subject that was tormenting me last night.
Today, I find that to a certain degree a portion of my thoughts were expressed by what some are calling a "hysterical screed" written by Peggy Noonan in today's WSJ. You can find her piece here. I ask that you read these two paragraphs, and that you to read the entire piece slowly and then read it again:
The pull-the-tube people say, "She must hate being brain-damaged." Well, yes, she must. (This line of argument presumes she is to some degree or in some way thinking or experiencing emotions.) Who wouldn't feel extreme sadness at being extremely disabled? I'd weep every day, wouldn't you? But consider your life. Are there not facets of it, or facts of it, that make you feel extremely sad, pained, frustrated, angry? But you're still glad you're alive, aren't you? Me too. No one enjoys a deathbed. Very few want to leave. ...
Once you "know" that--that human life is not so special after all--then everything is possible, and none of it is good. When a society comes to believe that human life is not inherently worth living, it is a slippery slope to the gas chamber. You wind up on a low road that twists past Columbine and leads toward Auschwitz. Today that road runs through Pinellas Park, Fla.
I find it difficult to explain why thinking of this terrible situation causes me to feel a deep pain in my heart. I do not find that Peggy's piece is hysterical or written by a wild-eyed extremist. Rather, I hear my own yearning in her words. I hear a plea for understanding in a world that suddenly seems so lost, so foreign.