Many of us have probably seen the poignant photograph of the five year old Syrian boy, bruised, bloodied, and discombobulated after a mortar attack.  It's almost as heart rending as last year's photograph of the even younger Syrian boy found drowned on a beach, victim of a botched crossing attempt.  For some of us, these photos are too close to home; we may witness, in our country, similar episodes regularly.  For others, though we are far away from such carnage, we may have children of similar ages whom we would not want to experience such horror.  For still others, we simply weep at the idea of such unmitigated pain and suffering.
     Unfortunately, it appears that Syria's civil war will not end anytime soon, and as is the case in most wars, it is the civilians who are taking the brunt of the fight.  It is anything but fair, and it is enormously tragic.  So we wonder:  why must this happen?  Why must innocents endure such awful lives?
     To these questions, we have no ready answers.  We lament before an opacity beyond our grasp.  Even if we aver that God is in this darkness, we are still left to wonder what, if anything, he is doing.  But we'll never know completely why.
     Setting these questions aside, however, we see that we remain singularly responsible to do whatever we can to halt the conflict.  We can question, we can wonder, but we can also act.  It's God's world, yes, but it is ours to own.
     "No greater love than this," Jesus said, "that a person lay down his life for his friend."