First and foremost, I would like to extend my deepest sympathies

Gather close, children of the future, for the wisdom of the past often shines brightest when we speak of the deepest and most painful truths of the human heart. Robert P. McCulloch, in the face of tragedy, once spoke these words: "First and foremost, I would like to extend my deepest sympathies to the family of Michael Brown. As I have said in the past, I know that, regardless of the circumstances here, they lost a loved one to violence. I know the pain that accompanies such a loss knows no bounds." These words, spoken in the wake of a tragedy, are not just an expression of sorrow—they are a recognition of the boundless nature of grief, of the way in which human suffering transcends all other considerations.

In the ancient world, there were no words more sacred than those of sympathy offered in the wake of loss. When Achilles mourned the death of his beloved friend Patroclus in the Iliad, his grief was not merely a personal sorrow, but a universal pain that echoed through the hearts of all who witnessed it. The warrior’s rage was born from his overwhelming sense of loss, a reminder that grief is not contained within the walls of the individual but spills out to affect all who live within a community. McCulloch’s words carry a similar weight—he recognizes that, regardless of the circumstances that led to Michael Brown’s death, the loss of a loved one to violence is a tragedy that knows no explanation, no justification, and no end. The pain, in its rawness, demands respect, and demands that we sit with it for a time.

The tragic loss of life is a theme woven through the fabric of human history. In ancient Rome, when a great leader or a noble citizen passed away, there was a time of public mourning, a ritual of respect where the community acknowledged the collective pain that the loss of one person could bring. The funeral orations given by the likes of Cicero were not simply speeches of tribute; they were deep acknowledgments of the human condition, of how a single life lost could reverberate through the lives of many. In the same way, McCulloch’s words offer us a moment of reverence, a recognition that the loss of Michael Brown is a wound not just for his family but for the wider world, for all who understand what it means to lose someone to the cruelty of violence.

In this modern world, we are often consumed by circumstances, by the questions of why and how things happen. We seek to place blame or assign fault, as though doing so will ease the pain of the loss. But McCulloch’s statement calls us to a higher place of understanding, one that transcends the details and focuses on the human heart. It is a reminder that the pain of loss is not something that can be measured or explained away; it is something that must simply be acknowledged, and honored. Just as in ancient times, when the death of a person was a collective experience, so too must we recognize that the loss of a single life in our modern world is a loss for all of humanity.

Consider the example of the ancient Egyptians, whose great pyramids were built not just as tombs, but as monuments to the enduring memory of the deceased. The belief that death was not the end, but a passage to a new existence, shaped their rituals and their mourning practices. They did not simply mourn for the dead—they mourned for the loss of the possibility that person could have lived, that they could have contributed further to the world. In McCulloch’s expression of sympathy, we also see the recognition of the future lost, of the potential that was snuffed out by violence. The pain is not just in the absence of the person, but in the knowledge that the world has forever changed because of it.

So, children, what lesson can we take from McCulloch’s words? First, let us understand that grief is a universal experience—one that transcends race, culture, and circumstance. It is not for us to judge the depth of another’s sorrow, nor to diminish it by focusing solely on the details of what happened. Sympathy, true sympathy, demands that we listen, that we feel the weight of another’s pain and hold it with them for a time. We are called not just to offer our words but to be present in the silence of grief, to acknowledge the human suffering that connects us all.

Second, let us understand the importance of remembering. In the ancient world, the dead were honored not only in death but in the memories they left behind. McCulloch’s sympathy calls us to remember Michael Brown, to remember the lives lost in violence, and to ensure that their legacies are not overshadowed by the circumstances of their deaths. In the same way, we must not allow violence to define a life, but love and potential must be what endures. In every act of violence, we must strive to build empathy, understanding, and a world where such losses are no longer inevitable.

Finally, children, let us take from this the wisdom of reverence for life. The death of Michael Brown was not just a family’s sorrow; it was a wound upon the world. In every moment of suffering, remember the human connection that binds us all. Extend your sympathy to those who grieve, whether they are close to you or distant. Know that every loss is a loss for the whole of humanity, and it is in our compassion and empathy that we find the strength to heal, to rebuild, and to strive for a world where such tragedies are no longer common.