Twenty children were brutally murdered today by a cowardly monster. All kinds of folks from a whole slew of political and ideological persuasions are weeping all over our nation and rightfully so. Flags fly at half-mast for these 20 children. No matter who we are or what we believe, we should in no way minimize the weight of this atrocity. On days like this we all long for justice—we all long for and look to an avenger to set things right. We all long for the home from which we came. On days like this we feel the weight of evil no matter what one chooses to nickname it, humanity feels it just the same.
When tragedy strikes there is a temptation to shut down mentally, possibly as coping method, however we should avoid this knee-jerk reaction. We should think while we feel. While the wounds are still fresh, while the ache is still in the pit of our stomachs and the tears are still flowing, we should set our minds on things above, not on things below.
One of the things that we (especially those of us who are personally removed from the situation and yet are still reeling) should ask ourselves, is how we have become so numb. How is it that yesterday I didn’t feel this weight of sin like I do today? Zooming out 50,000 feet, I have to wonder whether yesterday’s atrocities are all that different from today’s.
How is it that 20 children brutally murdered by a gun slinging coward and monster can inflict the kind of fresh wounds that in a sense brings a nation to a screeching halt, to weeping and mourning in such a way that the legalized genocide of thousands of unborn infants never has? We should weep and mourn for these 20 children. We should pray for justice and wisdom to lead our president, legislators, judges, and local authorities in responding to atrocities like the one that happened today, that they may seek to prevent future atrocities. At the same time, we should ask ourselves why it is that the slaughter of 20 can evoke such deep emotion whereas the daily slaughter of thousands does not have even close to the same effect. How did we become so numb?
Days like these should wound us. We should feel what we feel on days like these. What about tomorrow?
What about tomorrow when another spineless massacre rivaling Sandy Hook is being carried out on our defenseless children throughout the day and into the night in less than ten minute intervals over and over and over? And then again the next day. And the day after that. The wounds of Sandy Hook will heal quickly for most of us. Just like the wounds of Columbine and Virginia Tech healed. We never forget and yet we don’t perpetually carry the same heaviness we felt on those dark days. Those massacres happened and then they were over and we moved on.
Today people from all over the country feel the gash that this evil has delivered. Tomorrow we will remember but many of us have already begun to move on. That is part of being human, we forget. It can be a blessing and it can be a curse, but it is what it is. However what if tomorrow someone walked into another elementary school and replicated the terror that we saw unfold today in Connecticut? We would feel again. There is no doubt in my mind that it would be today’s pain compounded upon even more heartbreak. I can’t help but wonder why it is not this way when it comes to abortion.
I suspect there is a tightrope here that is anchored between our blessing of forgetfulness and our curse of forgetfulness. Maybe that isn’t right. Maybe that isn’t the correct way to put it “blessing of forgetfulness.” I suppose if we felt the way we felt today, everyday, and it only grew progressively worse, we would grow hopeless very quickly. There must be a balance. However I am convinced we, as a whole, are badly erring on the side of cold indifference rather than on the side of rash aggression.
Some may say that our current error is better than the other but really that is a silly thing to say. As I’ve said before, it doesn’t make any difference at the bottom which side of the high wire you fall off. The point is to try not to fall off on either side.
So what do we do? What can we do? I must confess that I honestly don’t know how to answer this in a way that makes me feel like I can accomplish something today, right now. Other than pray I don’t know what to do.
I do know Christians shouldn’t be wet blankets. Our disposition should be joyous rather than downcast. As Paul, who was no stranger to tragedy or terror or murder, says, rejoice alway. This is obviously the kind of joy that you find deep beneath the topsoil, joy that is under the baseboards, the carpet, and the padding. This joy is the foundation, the bedrock of everything we believe and do.
Today we mourn because our last enemy death hasn’t been put away just yet. Today we mourn because our familiar enemy has reared his ugly head in such a ways as to shock us and shake us. And yet today we rejoice because death’s days are numbered, the war is over and the peace treaty has already been signed. This rebel just refuses to go down without a fight but in the end the joke is on him and we must not be afraid to let him hear our unquenchable laugh and our mocking anthem, “to live is Christ, to die is gain” to ensure he never forgets that we win. That our battered and bruised, weak and worn human race wins out over such an insurmountable foe as death.
So let us pray and let us pray fervently to the God of the living, who hears the cries of His children. Let us pray that the Holy Spirit would arouse His Church. That we would see the world as a dry field and ourselves as men on fire. That we would view those lost around us as people hiding from the day inside cardboard rooms with curtains closed and pray that we would have compassion and boldness, at all costs, to draw back those curtains and let Light in. Pray that we would feel the weight of sin in such a way as to make us into the kind of joy-filled warriors that overflow the good news of the gospel with an overwhelming sense of urgency.
Or here…