My heart breaks for the children, families, and community of Newtown, Connecticut today. Although I do not believe God causes or intends violence in the world, the phrase "Kyrie eleison," ancient Greek for "Lord, have mercy," keeps running through my mind. In a more extended form, this is my prayer:
Mothering God, bring comfort to those who mourn. God of justice and mercy, teach us what changes we can make in our society to prevent such tragedies, and give us the courage to persevere in the face of opposition. Holy One, remind us once more that we are all your children, all sisters and brothers in one human family, all inextricably woven together in the fabric of creation, and transform us by that knowledge to regard one another with love. In the name of Jesus, who was called the Prince of Peace, I pray. Amen.
A quick Google search for "school shooting" yields 163,000,000 results. After the Wikipedia entry for the category, the names of places display like a devastating roll call: Amish school shooting. Rio de Janeiro. Emsdetten. Kauhajoki. Rocori. Maryland. Ohio. Although it has yet to reach the top 10 results, today's tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary, leaving 18 children (kindergarteners) and 10 adults dead, is sure to show up soon. A friend posted on Twitter that there have been 31 school shootings since Columbine - and that doesn't include movie theaters, Sikh temples, camps, malls, and other places that should be safe.
I have opinions about what we as a society should do at the policy level, to make mental health services more available and guns, especially automatic or semi-automatic weapons, less so. And I have theological beliefs about what God desires for humankind (abundant life, justice, love, wholeness). And I am so grateful for my friends and colleagues who are making eloquent arguments that unite those two arenas in urgent calls to action - because I do not believe that prayer, by itself, is sufficient response. I believe God calls us to put prayer into action, to help bring about the kin'dom of heaven on earth.
But right now, I have a sermon to finish writing, about light in the darkness, about longing for something brighter and muddling through, about choosing joy in the midst of struggle. And so I pray that if, today, you need to turn off the news to be kind to yourself, to show love for your family, to cultivate peace in your own heart, that you will do that. And I pray that we will engage in conversation, as friends and family, as communities, as a nation and as a global society, about how to care for those with mental illness, how to stay connected to people who are troubled so they do not reach the extremes of despair and isolation, how to protect children and other vulnerable people, how to prevent violence and offer healing to those who carry the scars of violence in body, mind, or spirit, and how together we can move toward a vision of a world of justice, peace, compassion, and joy.
