A Pastoral Letter After Moments of Violence

Church Family,

Five years ago, a beloved couple in our church was shot and killed by their adult son. Many of us had known this family for decades, and the grief and shock of the moment left us asking questions that no one could answer. As we gathered together for their memorial service, we turned to the teachings of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount that we'd been studying that year:
 

“You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, ‘You shall not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.’ But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister will be subject to judgment. Again, anyone who says to a brother or sister, ‘Raca,’ is answerable to the court. And anyone who says, ‘You fool!’ will be in danger of the fire of hell" (Matthew 5:21-22)

When we are confronted with moments of violence -- as our nation has been repeatedly this week -- it's natural to look for someone to blame, or a rival tribe to indict. It's really easy, and even gratifying, to assign responsibility to the people who are not us, or the people we already dislike. But the same spirit of humility that leads us to confess our sins on our knees every Sunday ought also to lead us to ask this introspective question: "Lord, if anger and name-calling lead to murder, where do these seeds of murder exist in me?" Rather than adding to the noise through partisan name-calling or what we might even self-deceptively regard as holy anger about cultural events, this ought to be our posture-- one of humility, repentance, reflection, and changing our behavior when we see that we, as citizens of God's Kingdom, are fighting just like everyone else. 

This morning, I felt the Lord call to mind a striking passage in Joshua 5. Joshua, the successor to Moses, is on the verge of entering the Promised Land, when he is confronted by an angel of the Lord. Not immediately recognizing him, Joshua asks: "Are you for us or our enemies?" to which the angel responds: "Neither, but as a commander of the army of the Lord I have now come" (Joshua 5:13-14). And then Joshua fell facedown. 

As followers of Jesus, we must live and move and have our being in the Kingdom of God, which exists outside of the dichotomy of "us or our enemies." We must be a de-escalating, humanizing, peace-loving, Sermon-on-the-Mount-obeying, presence in the world, evidenced by our words, actions and attitudes around the dinner table, on social media, in our text messages, and beyond. "Are you for the right or for the left?" Neither. I am for the Kingdom of God. 

This is a ripe opportunity for us to repent. Like Nehemiah, confessing the sins of all the people of God, we ought to humble ourselves before the Lord and ask the Lord to purify his church, and make us a people who can be trusted to represent him in the world.

As I've shared in recent weeks, when we observe the brokenness in God's world, it's right for us to grieve. I grieve the loss of life: children left without a parent, parents left without their child, and all of us who are feeling stained by violence. And it's a moment to remember the good news: God did not cause any of this mess, but God is going to make it right. And until Jesus returns to remake the heavens and the earth, we're entrusted with the task enacting his kingdom in our own small ways.

Here's one practical way you can do that this weekend: Fully walk away from social media and from consuming the news, and instead, go talk to your neighbors. When you're grocery shopping or taking your kid to a soccer game, deliberately engage the people around you with kindness. Send an encouraging text or voice memo. Write someone a letter. The principle: Stop doomscrolling and engage in the real world as a person of light.

Finally, here are two liturgies that are helping give shape to my prayers this morning.
 

O Lord, you who promise a day in which there will be no more violence in our land, stay the hand of violence in our own lives, we pray; keep violent words from our lips, detain our hands and feet from violent actions, and deliver us from the impulse to indulge violent thoughts in the privacy of our own consciences, so that were might be worthy to be called children of God this day, blessed in our peacemaking ways. We pray this in the name of Jesus, the Prince of Peace. Amen.


O Lord, you who send rain upon the righteous and the unrighteous, help me, I pray, to extend your kindness not only to my family and my friends but also to my difficult neighbors, and grace me to resist the temptation to 'teach them a lesson' or 'put them in their place' and instead to bless and do good to them, so that I might be worthy to be called a child of my Father in heaven. I pray this ins the name of the One who purifies all human loves. Amen. 
(Both prayers from W. David O. Taylor's Prayers for the Pilgrimage)

As we move into the days ahead, I pray that the God of all comfort would be near to us, that he would equip us to be people who live in a broken world without fear, overflowing with love, and eager to see 'God's kingdom come, God's will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.'

Yours in Christ,

jon+