“…It is always sunrise somewhere…”
A celebrant at the church service I attended in Easton the past Sunday citied the naturalist John Muir’s quotation in extolling the Easter message of joy and hope.
The message struck me deeply as I thought about the most recent episode in the sad saga of the Rev. Heather Cook, the bishop suffragan of the Episcopal Diocese of Maryland charged with the alcohol-induced killing of Thomas Palermo in December 2014. Palermo was biking in north Baltimore when struck by a Subaru driven by Bishop Cook, who had served the Episcopal Diocese of Easton at one time.
Amid the terrible chaos two weeks ago in Baltimore, as rioting and destruction engulfed West Baltimore in response to the death of Freddie Gray while in the custody of Baltimore City police, Bishop Cook resigned as bishop suffragan and agreed she would no longer serve as an ordained person in the Episcopal Church.
Does Bishop Cook deserve grace and sympathy as she confronts her actions and alcohol abuse? Do we extend that same forgiveness and hope to the Episcopal Church as it faces its obligation to understand and respond to alcoholism among its priests and parishioners?
In finding a cause for grace—as in wishing that Heather Cook achieves sobriety and clarity in the consequences of her destructive behavior—do we run the risk of overlooking the tragic loss of a 41-year-old bicyclist to his family and friends?
The Palermo family is suffering due to the human weakness of the former second-highest ranking cleric in the Episcopal Diocese of Maryland. The Palermo family has to face a grief-ridden future. It likely cares little about Heather Cook’s struggle with alcoholism and the diocese’s apparent lack of attention to a serious illness afflicting its Bishop Cook.
Sudden, tragic death has visited itself on the family.
Why then does sunrise happening somewhere give me pause in assigning Heather Cook to a purgatory of endless disdain? Do I feel the same sympathetic way about Freddie Gray and so many African-American males killed daily on the violent streets of Baltimore and other cities and towns?
My answer is one based on optimism and hope. I place my faith in recovery.
If she goes to prison, I hope that Heather Cook will find herself and help others do the same. She can serve those who need her in an unwelcoming venue. She can recover her worth as a loving, spiritual person.
I hope that the Episcopal Church searches its soul, as I suspect is already the case, and determines a way to help its flock confront their demons. Perhaps the church can recover its credibility as an institution willing to make hard choices in its selection and retention process.
I hope that Baltimore City, where I was raised, can address the ravages of poverty and hopelessness. I pray that the city’s political, religious, and civic and business leaders can pull together to help its most destitute communities feel enfranchised.
And, finally, I hope that the Palermo family can overcome its grief, and believe that Tom Palermo’s life, though ended far too soon and unnecessarily so, was worthwhile.
“This grand show is eternal. It is always sunrise somewhere; the dew is never all dried at once; a shower is forever falling; vapor is ever rising. Eternal sunrise, eternal sunset, eternal dawn and gloaming, on sea and continents and islands, each in its turn, as the round earth rolls.”
John Muir’s entire quotation bespeaks natural beauty, joy in God’s creation and hope in the preservation of goodness and grace.
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