Our current economic situation is grim indeed. The cost in terms of lost output and net wealth is already far beyond that which we have experienced in any previous post-World War II recession. And the rate of decline is accelerating, even as some legislators STILL debate whether or not a sizable fiscal stimulus is necessary to “kick-start” economic growth. In the third quar- ter of 2008, the Gross Domestic Product (GDP) had declined at an annual rate of 0.5 percent. However, the release of preliminary GDP data for the final quarter of 2008 shows that the economy has shrunk at a rate of 3.8 percent–the fastest pace in more than a quarter century. Were it not for THE substantial involuntary accumulation of inventories THAT resulted from failing to cut production fast enough to keep pace with falling orders, the decline in GDP would have been at a rate of more than 5 %.

Although the economy slipped into a negative growth [mode] only in the last half of 2008, employment growth was negative throughout the year, with the final four months of 2008 accounting for 2 million lost jobs out of the 2.6 million job losses for the year.

Already in 2009, such major employers as Boeing, Microsoft, Intel, Sprint, Caterpillar, Macy’s, Home Depot and oth-ers have announced layoffs totaling anywhere from 50,000-70,000 workers. And, a recent report from the Labor Department noted that, while a record number of American workers–4.8 million—were drawing unemployment benefits as of mid-January, 2009, represented only 37 percent of those who were out of work.

Behind the mass of statistical data that portray what well may be the worst economic and financial debacle since the Great Depression, countless human faces bear witness to its pain and adversity. As I pondered the human costs already incurred, I was reminded of a television series that aired more than half a century ago, entitled The Naked City The gritty police genre shot on location in New York City, focused on how crimes effect ordinary people and the police officers investigating them. Not only was it memorable for the New York City location, where I grew up, but for the tag line used at the close of each episode: There are eight million stories in the Naked City… this has been one of them.

Our current economic travails reflect more than bloodless statistical data. They bring an opportunity for us take a fuller measure of the tragic human costs borne as a consequence thereof. A recent TV news story brought one such instance to light. It reported on the trials of Marvin Schur, a 93-year old man from Bay City, Michigan, retired and living on a fixed income. Schur was a World War II veteran, a widower, living alone in his modest home. Like much of the United States, Michigan had been in the grip of a ferocious winter storm that brought snow, sleet, and ice, along with deadly temperatures. He had fallen behind in paying his electric bill, and the utility company had limited his access to electric power, plac-ing a device on his line that cut off power at certain intervals. In order to reset the device, customers had to go outside in the harsh weather. And, if the bill was not paid within ten days of this device’s installation, the company cut power completely. The TV program did not say why or how Marvin Schur had fallen behind, it re-ported only that neighbors grew concer- ned when they saw his windows covered with ice. On investigation, his body was discovered. Alone, dressed in four layers of clothing and wrapped in a blanket, he had frozen to death in his home. Pre-sumably, if he had the financial resources to pay his electric bill on time, he might still be alive. Nonetheless, it could be said that he was as much a victim of economic circumstances as he was of the bitter cold.

An even more appalling example was reported in the Associated Press on January 28, 2009: “A father apparently distraught over job problems shot and killed his wife and five young children and then committed suicide at their home, police said.
The victims included two sets of twins,” the article said. Ervin Lupoe, a 40-year-old.

The father had been fired from his job as a hospital medical technician. He was badly in debt and a month behind on mortgage payments at the time of the act, according to the report. Would others in similar circumstances resort to such a tragic act? Admittedly, Lupoe’s act represents an extreme. Nonetheless, desperate economic circumstances can trigger such responses, particularly when those in need have no one nearby to help, care and compassion.

These two stories reveal much about others that have gone unreported–each one populated with human beings desperate for kindness and understanding. The economics behind such tragedies are painful, but we know that they are not without end. In time, our economy will surely heal. Still, it behooves us now to look within. For many, if not most of us, remain caught up in frenetic lives that prioritize “getting and spending.” In embracing consumerism, we may have struck a Faustian bargain. There is a real danger that we may have traded our humanity for the soulless acquisition of mere things, becoming more removed from our neighbors, less caring and less human as a result.

It has been said that, “Humanity will one day be defined, not by the gifts we possess but by the virtues we lack.” Now, more than ever, our current crises offer us an opportunity to reach out and to regain that virtue of humanity that binds civil society. That task is surely within our reach. For, as the internationally acclaimed spiri-tual teacher Marianne Williamson has ob- served, “In every community there is work to be done. In every nation, there are wounds to heal. In every heart there is the power to do it.” Let the healing begin with us.