"From 'No Words' to Good Words"

We've been this way before.  Too many times.  

Last December, when more than 126 children were violently killed at a school in Pakistan, my Facebook feed filled up with acknowledgements like, “No Words.”  It was more “bad news”—it was more than “bad news”—on top of other devastating news stories.  The season of the Prince of Peace was again shattered by violence and death.  And for many, there were “no words” that could express fully our sadness and broken-heartedness. 

Maybe because of its nearness in our Christian liturgical drama, many colleagues and I found this quotation from Matthew’s gospel appropriate for online posts and sermons:

“A voice was heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be consoled, because they are no more.” 

The shoes of Jews sent to the gas chambers on
display at the Holocaust Museum, Washington, DC

Weeping for children—whom I could never know—wasn’t hard.  And like in the aftermath of the violence at Sandy Hook Elementary (that was a mere fraction of the life taken in Pakistan), I found myself appreciating my children and hugging them, and enjoying my time in the schoolyard after school. 

But in the last 24 hours, again news of violence, killing, and innocent lives destroyed has emerged in the news; this time, AGAIN, in our own country.  I could hardly bear to read the words of the news accounts of the three Muslim Americans who were shot and killed in Chapel Hill, North Carolina.  The words in news accounts—“execution style” and “gunshot wounds to the head”—suggest this was not some random act, or the result of a dispute over a parking space that was alleged.  And while I don’t know what actually occurred, it appears that the man who turned himself in to authorities killed or murdered the three people; and that by all accounts, it appears to be religiously motivated violence.  That these victims were killed because they practiced a particular faith. 

Once again, there are “no words” that can effectively declare the depth of how I feel—sad, disheartened, demoralized, angry, afraid. 

This comes on the heels of complaints and disagreements over reflective words offered by our President at an annual prayer breakfast; and the outrage and offense expressed by lots of people who would like to think or believe that almost all religious violence in the history of the world is perpetrated by non-Christians.  These people often seemed to speak in ways that make killing seem justified if it is violence being used to protect “American values” or in the cause of “keeping us safe.”  However, as a Christian, my faith and principles dictate that to attack or kill other persons for religious reasons is always wholly and utterly wrong. 

In fact, I’ll go beyond that to say that to attack or kill another person for any reason is wrong.  I believe God does not kill; and that God finds all killing abhorrent. 

In the wake of more violence, more killing, and more death—that we continue to live with every day—there cannot be “no words.”  I believe we must begin to recognize that violence and killing is in fact, not only senseless, but somehow preventable.  That recognition, I believe, beings with more than just “no words” in response. 

While perhaps there are “no words” that can define or describe fully the depth of our sadness, disappointment, and disturbed-ness of spirit; there are words that describe what we believe about God, what we believe about other human beings, and the violence perpetrated against others and ourselves.  There are words; and we can use them. 

This is how some of my Christian colleagues in ministries in Chapel Hill, North Carolina expressed themselves regarding these latest killings: 

As leaders of faith communities in Chapel Hill, we deplore the senseless killing of Deah Shaddy Barakat, Yusor Mohammad, and Razan Mohammad Abu-Salha, and we share in the profound grief of their families.  An attack on any of God’s children, our sisters and brothers, is an attack on us all.  We renew our pledge to continue the vital work of fostering mutual understanding and respect that cross all lines of difference. 

These words are not “no words.” 

These are powerful words—if we choose to use them (or other words like them). 

In fact, these words can hold us to account: “we deplore the senseless killing…,” “we share the profound grief of their families, …an attack on any of God’s children is an attack on us all, …and we renew our pledge to continue the vital work of fostering mutual understanding and respect that cross all lines of difference.” 

It seems to me that any Christian could surely claim these words. 

It would seem to me, that any citizen of the United States could claim these words. 

These are good words. 

They speak to our grief.  They speak to our commitment to God.  They speak of our calling to respect one another (dare we say love one another).  AND, they commit us to the way of peace. 

These names will not be the end.  We will need these words again (or words like them), only with different names attached—maybe next time, Christian names, or Jewish names, or Hindu names, or Orthodox Christian names, or Morman names, or Athiest names…. 

These are not “no words.” 

These are good words. 

We should use these words. 

I just pray that the day comes quickly, that they are no longer required. 

© Rev. David Stipp-Bethune; Teaching Elder and Pastor, The Presbyterian Church of Llanerch, Havertown, Pennsylvania