Musings on Tragedy

To Louis Feliciano

All tragedies leave us in awe. No other being in the world except man is affected by such events, whether they are natural disasters or moral evils. Tragedy reminds us our place in this world, that death is not something we can control. It reminds us of our own solitude in front of such situations.

What affects us most about tragedies is that there is a silence, and maybe even an absence, that makes us tremble, a fear-provoking silence that gives us a sense of powerlessness to give answers to ourselves and to each other. It is a silence which makes us realize that we are in the midst of absolute mystery. It is a silence which provokes an unquiet longing in our hearts to beg for someone to speak, to beg for a voice, for an answer.

In the midst of tragedies, this longing cannot be neglected. It moves us not to run away from questions but to struggle to find answers, to find love even in a situation that is, in the truest sense of the word, ugly. It is a longing to find even the smallest drop of beauty, a beauty that might echo a voice we desire to hear. This longing to find love, to listen to an echo, is what makes tragedy a drama. Tragedy does not make us incapable of finding love. And that is why it is not hopeless. Hopelessness comes about only when love can no longer penetrate into our hearts.

Tragedy becomes a drama when we struggle to find beauty in its midst. But this longing to find beauty is in itself insufficient. Beauty is not what we ultimately long for. We may be passionate and enthusiastic about the beautiful, but we cannot love it. Beauty is not something we can give ourselves to. It is itself a sign that points to an unspeakable face that moves us to be enthralled. In the end of it all, it is not beauty that we desire. What we desire, what makes our hearts unquiet, what we find in ourselves when we look deeply into our tender affectivity, is a Father. It is His embrace that we seek. It is His Voice that we long to hear. It is the experience of His absence which makes us fear and tremble.

What we long for is not something abstract but a Person. This is clearly seen when we gaze at the Crucified One. Christ cried out for his Father, asking Him why He has abandoned him. The Father was silent. There again we find silence. It is exactly the loud cry of the Word which moves us closer to our Father. Christ found himself in the bosom of his Abba, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” In his loud voice, the Father is revealed. In the Crucified One, we see a naked man giving himself to his Father and to the world and hear what is in his heart. He revealed himself by speaking (truth), unveiling his body (beauty), and donating himself (love). In revealing himself, we find his “You.” His “You” is who we strive to meet. Our hearts are drawn to the Crucified One because it is in him where we find ourselves not in solitude, but in solidarity with our own hearts, a solidarity which accepts and embraces who we are, that is, having a yearning in our hearts to look for a face in a time of solitude. It is not wrong to have this yearning nor was this an accident. No one, not even those with so-called scientific explanations, can ever take this longing away from us. Even when we are beaten, exhausted, depressed, or lonely, this longing in our hearts cannot be taken away. No one can ever tell us what to feel or what are hearts are drawn to. It is a God given gift to have this restlessness. To take our tender affectivity seriously, to see what it corresponds to, is human. There is nothing more human than looking for that face that tells us the reasons for our being, for our longings. It is His Face we seek. It is in gazing at Him that we find our origin, our place, our meaning, and our infinity. In gazing at Him, we are able to endure and accept His Father’s sharp glance. It is at this point that the drama of human life becomes a romance.