You don't know me. I'm a pastor at a Lutheran congregation 65 miles north of you, in Fort Collins. You may have your own pastor, or rabbi, or imam. You may not believe in God. But I am also your neighbor--and like many of your neighbors in Colorado and across the country, my heart breaks for you today.
We, your neighbors, may not have been in that movie theater, but we could have been. It could have been our children, our friends. We want to share words of sympathy, but we know no words can erase what has happened to you, as you grieve for the dead and wait in hospitals for news of the injured. What words we do share may bring little comfort.
I am only one of many voices who will speak to you, and about you, in the days to come. As a pastor, a parent, and a neighbor, here is what I want to say.
To the victims, the survivors, and their loved ones: I am so sorry. I cannot imagine the terror of being inside the theater in those deadly moments, or the anxiety of not knowing at first whether someone you loved was among the victims. I pray for the hospital staff and emergency personnel who continue to treat your wounds, and I pray for your healing. And for those who have received the worst possible news, the news of death, my head bows in sorrow.
In the coming days and weeks, you will probably encounter well-meaning people who will say to you, it is all part of God's plan, even if we don't understand it now. Everything happens for a reason. If these words are helpful for you to hear, I'm glad. But if these words tear at already-raw places in you and fill you with anger or despair, please know this: not all people of faith believe these things. I do not believe them.
The God I know in Jesus Christ does not use natural disasters or human-caused massacres to reward some and punish others. I believe God is able to reach into sin and death and pull out healing and life; this is a different thing from engineering tragedy for a so-called greater purpose. The God I serve and proclaim to others does not cause or desire human suffering.
I also suspect many of you, like us, may be asking why. Why did this happen? The media and the justice system will do their best to answer this question in the literal sense, trying to determine why James Holmes apparently entered a movie theater and began shooting at random. In a sense, however, it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter, because even if we get a "why"--an explanation from the shooter, or a more comprehensive understanding of the circumstances that comes with time--these answers will still not be enough.
In its deepest sense, the question "why?" is not a request for a logical explanation; no logical explanation will justify or make sense of what is indefensible and senseless. It is a cry of the heart, an expression of grief. It is a cry as ancient as it was new again this morning. In the Bible, it is "Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because her children are no more" (Jeremiah 31:15).
As a person of faith, I say to you: there is holiness in grief, in tears and in anger. In the refusal to be comforted, there is the understanding that these bullets have torn a rent not only in individual lives but also in the fabric of life itself, in an understanding of community as it ought to be. Such refusal proves that we have glimpsed and can imagine a better way of being together in the world. The fact that this event is one of many tragedies and episodes of suffering around the world doesn't diminish its magnitude; in many ways, it makes it sadder.
One of the twelve dead in the Aurora shooting was aspiring Colorado sportscaster Jessica (Ghawi) Redfield. On June 5, after she had narrowly missed being present at a similar shooting at a Toronto mall, she blogged about the event, asking, "Who would go into a mall full of thousands of innocent people and open fire? Is this really the world we live in?"
Is this the world we live in? Yes. And no. It is a world in which evil and tragedy erupt with shocking frequency and brutal intensity. It is a world in which, despite our attempts to separate "good people" from "bad people," the truth in writer Alexander Solzhenitsyn's words stands: "The line separating good and evil passes not through states, nor between classes, nor between political parties either, but right through every human heart, and through all human hearts."
And yet, this is also a world in which immense kindness and compassion can wash over us in times of greatest need. For those whose trust in humanity has been shattered today: as you remember a young man bursting into a place of supposed safety and turning it into a place of destruction, may you also remember communities, places of worship, neighborhoods and individuals bursting into this situation with love and support. May these times testify not to the power of evil to destroy community, but to the greater power drawing a community together to stand with one another. I call that greater power God; but whether or not we share the same faith, let us share that commitment to life and love that render hatred and evil ultimately powerless.
In the end, whatever his motives, Mr. Holmes will have neither the first nor the last word. Nor will I. That honor belongs, I believe, to the indestructible love of God. It belongs also to Jessica Redfield, whose life was ended, but whose witness was not destroyed:
"we don't know when or where our time on Earth will end. When or where we will breathe our last breath...every moment we have to live our life is a blessing."
To Jessica and our beloved dead: rest in peace, and may perpetual light shine upon you.
Rev. Emily C. Heath: Wise as Serpents: Finding Trained Trauma Chaplains in the Wake of a Crisis
Clay Farris Naff: Religious Right Just Can't Resist Exploiting Aurora Tragedy for Political Gain
Michael Pettinger: Sin in Aurora, Colorado
Daniels, Kenneth W. (2010-07-03). Why I Believed: Reflections of a Former Missionary (p. 108). Kenneth W. Daniels. Kindle Edition.
If you're actually in your church (or synagogue or mosque), you're talking to a crowd of like-minded people. In that venue it is certainly appropriate to speak the language of your faith. That's actually what you're getting paid to do.
But when you write an "open letter", you're obviously targeting not just your fellow "believer", but everybody. Everybody includes a LOT of people who don't share your faith, including a lot who find it oppressive and noxious.
In America, the stats are 15% who are atheists. That would be about 45 million people.
And these people - who well might include survivors and families of those wounded or dead, will definitely not want to be evangelized right now. It's no comfort to an atheist to hear you jabber on about your God - really and truly.
The art of offering comfort in a public venue (like an open letter) in the aftermath of a societal tragedy begins with keeping your religion to yourself, and find language that can be shared by ALL of us as we struggle in the aftermath.
That's true whether you're a Christian, Jew, Muslim, Hindu, agnostic, atheist, or whatever.
I'll give you an example of what I mean: I was talking just yesterday to a woman who works as a hospital chaplain. When she presents herself to the sick, and their families, she doesn't try to impose her beliefs on them at all.
That's what is appropriate and right, in my view. She told me that she works just as well with people who are atheists as she does with the religious. And in her particular work with individuals, she will follow their lead. If they want to pray to a particular God, she will join them. But she would never take the lead in such a moment.
If this cleric wanted to write an open letter to Christians, and said so, her remarks would not have been inappropriate at all. Atheists and other non-christians would (as you say) continued to read on at their own risk.
Am I making sense?
See my comments below about a hospital chaplain I spoke with on Saturday who's a lot more skillful at helping people without imposing her own religious views.
Thank you.
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But enough about you. Let's talk about me.
Simple, eloquent, and from the heart..
I though that all of my tears had been shed. They weren't.
And let's consider this. Her second sentence starts with, "I'm a pastor at a Lutheran congregation".
I assumed because of this that she was going to be mentioning her religious beliefs at some point. Anyone who doesn't have similar beliefs to a Lutheran should probably just not have continued reading the article if references to religion is the sort of thing that upsets them.
The main message of the letter is wonderful I think. Compassion, support, sympathy. I think everybody has a right to express these feelings in their own way and I would never silence attempts to do so.
But I also have to agree with several posters that part of this letter is in bad taste. It could easily do without the fifth paragraph entirely, and phrases like "That honor belongs, I believe, to the indestructible love of God." I know your faith is important to you, but don't sneak it in an otherwise perfectly compassionate letter, show some respect to the people of varying beliefs that are in deep hurt at the moment. Trust me, it doesn't make you any different from the well-meaning 'it's God's plan' people.
America is a nation that will even have wars for corp profits and most of the christian clergy goes right along with it. ie no protests just acceptance so not to lose members. $$$$$$
That said those that loss their lives in this incident live on. the grief of those remaining will be much.
The person that did the shooting will be blamed and the insane system of guns for all including assult guns and 6000 rounds of ammo on the internet will continue to be an american way of life. profits over people.
One thing for sure americans love their guns more than their bibles.
I was stunned.
THIS ISN'T ABOUT YOU.
Not everything is a teachable moment to be turned to the end of proselytizing. If that had been my grandpa instead of my in law I'd have marched up there and told him to get out, we'd handle the memorial ourselves.
But lucky the lady who spoke at my blood grandpas death did a good job. She talked to all of us and learned about him and told us our own stories in a new way that put together the story of his life. And while she certainly mixed religion in there she kept God in the background and grandpa in the foreground because it was for Grandpa that we gathered. Not God. And she definitely didn't start talking about herself and her relationship with God while we were trying to send off grandpa.
I think this article, and all the ones like it, are in bad taste. You have an agenda that you are using this tragedy to advance. Please wait until the dead are buried at the very least.
If you are a believer and the person who is grieving is not, would you take that moment to try to convert them to your way of thinking? Do you think it would be the respectful, decent thing to do under the circumstances?
This lady was a bit more gentle, but the message is still clear. She is not addressing "all" who are hurting. She is addressing believers and trying to pull in a few none believers into the fold in one fell swoop. Not offensive to believers, I get that. Somewhat offensive to none believers? Yes.Was it her intent to offend? I think not, so she gets a pass. But I wish she was more sensitive to how her methods will be perceived another time.