We Need to Have a Talk

Yesterday all I could come up with were words and phrases (sort of) strung together.  Today, well I think I'm losing it.  The tragedy at Emmanuel AME church in Charleston remains just that, a tragedy, an all too common sort of tragedy that's starting to become as predictable as your favorite character on Game of Thrones meeting with a sudden and brutal end.  This tragedy is rooted in three of the greatest flaws (one might say sins) of our national character.
First, this was undoubtedly about race.  The young man had been drinking a venomous cocktail of fear and propaganda.  He was drowning in it, and while a 21 year old is certainly a responsible adult, the pictures of the perpetrator don't show me a monster they show me a skinny, pale, unbalanced kid, who had come to believe that black people were his enemy, even the very people who welcomed him as a stranger into their prayer meeting, and I'm guessing were just super nice to him before he started murdering them.  I trust that, I trust that those people were busy being the church to this unstable and hate riddled young man, because I know church people, black, white or otherwise (that's important, but I'll come back to that).  This man was so filled with hate that love couldn't touch him, he was in hell, and like it or not we all helped put him there.
Because the second thing about our national character at the moment is that we allow hate and fear to run us.  I'm not going to pick on any particular group, because we are all guilty.  We have created a culture where being different is a sin and we cannot even talk about our differences without sinking into a morass of shame and enemy-making.  Fox News and MSNBC thrive on it, it seeps into all of our most important discussions, everyone's a victim, even the most privileged among us.  The government is out to get us (to be fair they give us some reason to actually believe that), the (insert name of feared group here) are leading to the downfall of our society, the media is biased and/or incompetent (again paranoia is often founded in some level of truth).  Any discussion, even about something silly like a man becoming a woman or a white woman pretending to be black and actually running a chapter of the NAACP, get so bogged down with discussions of who is even qualified to comment and how they/we/everyone-but-one-enlightened-commentator are missing the point that none of us can say anything.  When we do say something vaguely truthful, we're probably going to be trolled on some nuance that we probably didn't even think of, welcome to the blogosphere people, it's all opinions, all the time.
It's to the point where I almost prefer blatant ignorance and blind categorical statements, because at least then I know where we are.  When someone says something like, "Obama wants to take our guns," I know exactly where they are coming from, and I sort of appreciate that.  But let me say that the gun stuff is really rubbing me raw these days, not because I'm against guns, actually I kind of like them, but because of the way we approach them.  We think they're like magic.  We attach them to feelings of security when they're making our world much less safe.  We call them a right, when they should be considered a privilege, one that you should have to earn with more than just $200 and a quick background check.  A few months ago we hosted a guest from Italy, a pastor type, who was fascinated with the American attitude towards firearms.  In Italy, you are only allowed to own guns if you had or were serving in the military, or could demonstrate some actual need to have them (and yes hunting and personal security were on the list of actual needs).  Actually carrying a gun in public is almost unheard of unless you are a law enforcement type, and I think it probably goes without saying, stuff like Charleston doesn't happen that much in Italy.
Which, finally, brings me to the third thing: we're saturated in the idea that violence is the way to security.  I realized at some point that, sort of like in Die Hard, a lot of Europeans think Americans see themselves as cowboys walking around with six guns ready to blaze away at the bad guys.  Yes, that's a stereotype, but again, it has its foundation in truth.  Which leads me to the thing that has absolutely set my britches on fire with holy anger over the past 24 hours: on at least three different occasions (two of which were Fox News and the NRA, so I was at least not surprised) I have heard people suggest that church people ought to arm themselves, including the pastors of churches (ostensibly to protect their flock like a shepherd is supposed to, to which I say, "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want").
At this point, I am moved to speak in a profane manner, but I will restrain myself.  I will, however, say that this line of thinking is absolutely the most non-christian, violence-loving, abhorrently evil thought mess that I have run across in quite some time.  I understand if some of my African American colleagues disagree, because their churches suffer violence a lot more often.  I cannot claim to understand fully the experience of being a truly persecuted minority.  I can only speak on being a follower of Jesus and a part of the Body of Christ, but here's what I think: I would rather be shot than climb into a pulpit to proclaim Christ crucified while carrying a gun.
The Apostle Paul says, "We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body." 2 Corinthians 4:10  And that is not an isolated proof text, he repeats a similar sentiment many times in various letters.  And it was a real possibility for Christians in that day to actually be martyred, and yet they kept on being the church, just like the Emmanuel AME church in Charleston.  Do not let fear get the best of you church, continue to set your eyes on Jesus and do what he did.  If we meet our end while being the church so be it, but do not let fear pull you away to an idol with Smith and Wesson inscribed on the barrel.
Look, I don't ever want to see someone come charging into my church with a gun, but I think a better way to prevent that is to speak kindness, love and mercy into a world that is filled with hate and fear.  I do understand that this idea puts me at odds with the principalities and powers, and that it may be dangerous, it certainly was for Jesus, but I'm pretty sure I want to be in the same boat as him (spoilers).