Violence and Peace

Yesterday eight people in our city were shot and killed in an act of random violence. Omaha is still reeling as we deal with the aftermath of the tragedy. The phones at Coram Deo have been ringing with people calling from all over the world to see if we’re OK and to register their prayers for our church and our city. In the midst of it all, I feel burdened as a pastor to write or say something meaningful. And yet I don’t know what that something is.

There is a gossamer line between meaningful and trite. Saying nothing at all will seem passive and disengaged from the pain and longings of people in our city. Trying to draw shades of gospel meaning from an act of egregious violence will seem shallow and opportunistic. (That doesn’t mean I don’t believe the gospel speaks to this event – it does. But sometimes the most gospel-centered response to tragedy is imitating our Savior who “was silent, as a sheep before its shearers” – Is. 53:7.) The challenge of responding to an event like this – and of expressing all that the Christians in our community are thinking and feeling – is daunting.

Three young women in our church work at the store where the shootings took place. Others from our church work in the same mall. We are thankful today that none of them were hurt. And yet we wonder at the mysteries of God’s providence: why did he preserve their lives and not the lives of others?

A situation like this does not bring answers to mind; it only heightens longing. During this Advent season we remember Christ’s coming and hope for his return. The idea of longing – the tension between the already and the not-yet – has colored my own thinking and prayer as I seek to be a priest to my city in the wake of tragedy. Perhaps my own longings will give expression to those resting in the souls of other readers.

I long for the redemption of families, to reverse the trend of troubled teens from homes with passive or absent dads who haven’t taught their sons how to be men. And I long to be used by God in bringing this redemption.

I long for the redemption of culture, to reverse the trend of passivity toward violence and evil. Those who blame these events on the accessibility of guns or the prevalence of violent video images or the breakdown of ethics are all partially correct. A culture steeped in consumerism and pluralism, unwilling to call anything “evil,” will erode from the inside out. I long to be used by God to bring gospel-driven renewal to culture.

I long for the gospel to take root in the church, so that we will have deep and meaningful things to say (or not say) in moments of tragedy. It would be a great step forward if Christians (not media pundits or therapists) were reputable interpreters and counselors in these situations.

I long for justice. When the shooter turns the gun on himself, there is a strange miscarriage of justice. Though the perpetrator is dead, the families of the victims are deprived of due process in the carrying out of justice. Our longing for a day of divine justice, meted out by a God who is holy and fair in all his dealings, is heightened.

Most of all, I long for peace on earth – the theme of this week’s Advent observance. I think today, our church community and our city long for peace in a totally different way.