Why have we fasted, and you see it not?
Why have we humbled ourselves, and you take no knowledge of it?’
Behold, in the day of your fast you seek your own pleasure,[a]
and oppress all your workers.
Behold, you fast only to quarrel and to fight
and to hit with a wicked fist. Isaiah 58:3-7
Is it helpful know that so many elected officials are offering thoughts and prayers today in the wake of yet another school shooting, this time in Georgia by a young teenager who attended the school, this time leaving two students and two teachers dead, along with more presently in various stages of distress in the hospital?
I was in the car when I heard the news on BBC. I instinctively hit my fist on the dashboard when I heard the news, which was immediately followed by more rage as I heard the rusted out mantra of thoughts and prayers from politicians, each one utterly and conspicuously lacking even a shred of intent to consider taking any sort of action at all that might, you know, make owning a gun and using it a bit more like owning a car. They could speak of the possibility of requiring training, a license, background checks, and having privileges revoked for misuse or online threats. They could even go wild and, in the same way that Formula One racing cars aren’t sold to the general public for driving on streets, we could limit what kind of guns are available to the public so that rapid fire assault rifles aren’t available at all, or at the least, limited.
But no. It seems that there’s a big group that thinks thoughts are prayers are enough.
Rubbish. Not only are they not enough, but they’re indicative of two deeply troubling trends.
We’ve substituted religious rituals for the pursuit of righteousness. Every prophet in the Bible, but especially Amos, Isaiah, and John the Baptist, make it clear: Religious rituals divorced from the pursuit of actual justice aren’t harmless. They’re dangerous, and disgusting to God. The danger stems from the sense of inoculation that those engaged in the rituals receive from praying. It implies, for some, that ‘praying, and singing, and church attendance, and moralizing about sexual ethics is enough. These things, rather acting to make the world a place where a few more shreds of shalom can be seen by taking some steps, any steps, to reduce violence, are what is all about.’ Amos said it this way (my paraphrase): If you’re not going to give a damn about the rise in injustice, oppression, and sickening normalization of violence that you see all around you, please stay home from church. I don’t need your songs nearly as much as I need your voice to advocate for safety, peace, hope, and justice for all, especially children, and the rest of the least of these.’ I can’t imagine God is pleased with ‘thoughts and prayers' tweets that are void of acting to change things.
We’ve come to view this sickness as normal. The BBC piece today included words to this affect in response to a question about whether ‘this latest shooting would lead to any consideration of policy changes’ and the journalist said, ‘as I speak with people here, it seems that everyone is resigned to this. It’s as if they’ve grown to accept active shooter drills and a few major school shootings each year, along with others in malls, synagogues, churches, as normal. If they thought otherwise, I’m sure things would change, but things don’t change, so that’s where America stands and, it appears, will continue to stand.’
When someone who is abused makes peace with the notion of being abused and accepts it as normal, they’re trapped. When people who could take steps to heal an addiction became acclimated to their addiction, they’re trapped. When a school shooting like today's (‘only’ four dead) receives obligatory coverage before moving on to the thrilling saga of our election cycle, and the over 100 days over 100 degrees recorded in Phoenix, etc. etc., we too have become trapped. We know the talking points. We know, or are at least 99.9999% certain, that nothing substantive will happen at a policy level as a result of this tragedy. This is our new normal. Except for two things:
It’s not normal. It’s a sickness that the rest of the developed world doesn't have.
It’s a sickness that can be cured.
It simply requires leaders with the courage to take steps, not all at once, but a little at a time. No step will fully solve the problem, which is, indeed, a heart problem as much as a gun problem. But steps can be taken. They’ve been taken… in Australia, Germany, Austria, Canada, Sweden, Netherlands, and a dozen other countries at least, all of whom look at us from the outside the way we look at a friend trapped in a self-destructive addiction, wishing they could do an intervention for us. In my conversations with European friends who visited us this summer, a recurring theme was their incredulity at our love affair with guns in spite of the steady drip of mass shootings (estimated at nearly 400 now for 2024). My friends don’t feel deprived, or unsafe, or threatened because their countries control access to mass murder weapons. But we (collectively) do. And yet we go to church and sing songs about not being afraid because God is our protector. Really? ‘Well no. God and my guns.’
A pathology that becomes normalized, and then entrenched, and then protected, is called ‘the hardening of the heart’ in the Bible. So the next time you’re tempted to tweet ‘thoughts and prayers’ or ‘it’s too early to politicize this’ (which is code for, ‘this anger will pass and people will forget), please think twice. God’s not happy when people using prayer as cloak for lack of action. And neither, by the way, are a host of people outside the church who are looking for hope, meaning, and beauty, but can’t seem to find it in communities preaching about the prince of peace while also defending the right of teens to buy guns with greater ease than beer.
Shalom? To see more of it, don’t just pray for the families. Pray for your next step.
Comments