Sutherland Springs, Texas

November 6, 2017 at 5:15 am Leave a comment

Credit: Callie Richmond for The New York Times

I am growing weary of the phrase “active shooter situation.” Whenever I hear the phrase, I know what it means. It means more bodies counted. It means more families shattered. It means more communities terrified. It means more tranquility robbed. It means more tears shed. It means more loss endured.

This time, an active shooter situation came for Sutherland Springs, Texas – a town that, admittedly, although I’ve heard of it and live right up the road from it in San Antonio, I had to look up on Google Maps to jog my memory as to its precise location.

The numbers out of Sutherland Springs are awful. 26 people have been killed, including several children, the youngest of which was only 18 months old, and nearly two dozen more have been injured after a gunman opened fire at the First Baptist Church there during its morning worship service. It is the deadliest mass shooting at a house of worship in American history and the deadliest mass shooting period in Texas’ history.

So, once again, we pray. And, once again, we grieve. And, once again, we hope this will be the last mass shooting. And, once again, we know that, in spite of our hopes, it probably will not be. Though law enforcement officials have not yet discerned a definite motive, we know that the prospect of fame, even if it comes in the form of infamy, the chance at revenge, or the allure of making one’s voice heard through bullets seems to be so enticing that it overwhelms even the most basic of moral instincts – the moral instinct to celebrate and protect life.

As with other tragedies, people want to know why and how this could have happened. Why would a man who lived in New Braunfels drive 45 minutes south to open fire on a country Baptist congregation? How did no one see this coming? How do we protect ourselves when so many places in our communities and neighborhoods, simply by virtue of the fact that we live in a free society, are soft targets for people with evil intent?

One of the blessings of being a part of a church family is that, if the church family is healthy, it tends to feel safe. It is a safe place for people to worship with their families. It is a safe place to make friends and grow in relationships. It is a safe place to turn when a sickness strikes or a loved one is lost in order to receive prayers and support. It is a safe place to process struggles and ask questions about faith and God. But this feeling of safety has been severely tested by this tragedy.

It is important to remember that this feeling of safety that can sometimes seem so indigenous to some churches was not – and still is not – a normal feature of families of faith. Churches all across the world are being bombed, shot up, and terrorized because of their confession of Christ. The apostle Paul, in Romans 8:36, writes about what it was like to be a member of a church in the first century when he quotes Psalm 44:22: “For Your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.” This does certainly not sound safe. Yet, what makes Paul’s words especially poignant at a time like this are their context. Paul begins by asking:

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written: “For Your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.” No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. (Romans 8:35-37)

Even the sword of a Roman soldier – and, yes, even the bullet from an assailant’s rifle – cannot separate us from the love of Christ. We are, Paul says, more than conquerors of those things because Christ loves us through those things.

Jesus once said, “My friends, do not be afraid of those who kill the body and after that can do no more” (Luke 12:4). A shooter at a church in Sutherland Springs killed some bodies – but he can do no more. So, we should not be afraid. Why? Because there was a moment in history when instead of a mass murderer mowing down dozens of people with an assault rifle, a mass of murderers brutally executed one man on a cross. But their murder didn’t take. Because three days later, He came back. The murders of the congregants at the First Baptist Church in Sutherland Springs won’t take either. Because one day – on the Last Day – these worshipers will come back when the One who once rose Himself will return to raise them – and us.

The worship service that those congregants were participating in yesterday morning at 11:30 – singing God’s praises and hearing God’s Word – didn’t end when a gunman opened fire and the victims drew their final breaths. It just moved. It just moved to a place around a throne where there sits a Lamb of God who takes away every sin by His death and grants eternal life by His life. And one day, we’ll join them around that same throne. May that day come quickly.

Maranatha.