The Birth of a Tragedy

They have my undivided attention.

I remember 9/11 pretty well.  I was sitting in the living room of our old house in Orleans watching the television in horror as my 8-year old brain digested an all-too-obvious yet still terrifying fact: we have been attacked.  I didn’t think it was possible.  America was always an impenetrable fortress in my mind and war a thing of history that wouldn’t ever happen to us again, at least not in my lifetime.  Yet I watched those assumptions melt away before my very eyes.  The worst part was that, at the time, we didn’t know who was attacking us or why.  Even for an 8-year-old child who couldn’t fully understand the situation, it was terrifying. 

I thought that would be a unique event in my lifetime. 

It hasn’t been.

Columbine.  Virginia Tech.  Sandy Hook.  These tragedies struck our hearts at their core as we mourned for the innocent victims mercilessly slaughtered like animals.  Then, while we were busy contemplating gun control, two young men decided to blow up some runners at the Boston Marathon. 

I was horrified. Beyond horrified.  These terrorists didn’t even make a public proclamation like self-righteous jihad killers.  They just wanted to kill some people.  Bloody.  Violent.  Twisted.  Evil.  That’s how we see this, and I concur with every fiber of my being.  I pump my fist along with the crowds who call for their lives as penalty.  I feel disgusted.  I feel wronged.  I feel attacked. 

I am tired.  Tired of feeling afraid.  Tired of feeling in danger.  Tired of feeling wary that anyone on the street could be the next sadistic maniac to pull out a Glock and start shooting people or pull a hunting knife and start stabbing everyone.  None of us “sign up” for life, but none of us would have signed up for this. 

I want to do something.  I want to take all weapons from everyone, take all of the mentally unstable individuals and lock them up, anything to stop this from happening again.  But here’s the honest fact: I can’t stop it. 

If we know a man named Steve will be the next killer, we can’t stop it.  We take the guns, he’ll use a knife.  We take the knives, he’ll use a bow.  We take the bows, he’ll use a hammer.  We take the hammers, he’ll use a club.  It’s pretty hard to outlaw wood.

We’ve been treating the symptoms and not the problem.  The problem is in our spiritual condition.  We as humans are to blame.  We have been acting out in rebellion to God as long as history has come and gone and this is what we reap for our actions.  We have been begging for a society without God.  As He does when asked, He is bowing out, and this is what it looks like.  Is this really what we want?