It is an escalating pandemic of political violence. The attempt on Donald Trump’s life in July 2024. The attempted murder of Governor Josh Shapiro of Pennsylvania and his family in April. The killing of Minnesota State Senate leader Melissa Hortman and her husband Mark in May, and now the assassination of national figure Charlie Kirk on September 10 in Utah. Each of these acts of political violence have been disorienting and debilitating to us, but the death of Charlie Kirk particularly stands out because of his wide reach, youth, fame, and influence, especially among young people. The responses have been immediate: American flags have been ordered to fly at half-mast; he will posthumously receive the Presidential Medal of Freedom. At the same time anger, accusations, and diagnoses have been broadcast across every platform, mostly without filter. The reactions will no doubt continue, the levels of fear and distrust will undoubtedly rise, and people will struggle to find ways to respond that don’t make the violence pandemic even worse.
I want to suggest four interrelated responses that can be personally and communally helpful, and may even be necessary.
- Grief — As has always been the case, grief will be experienced and expressed in widely different ways. Many are emotionally devastated at the death of Charlie Kirk, comparing him to a modern-day Martin Luther King. Many others may not have even heard of him, and while they will feel it important to pay respects for the death of yet another young promising young man, will find it hard to have any feelings of grief at all. Still others have long regarded Mr. Kirk as a loud and angry political polarizer, and will struggle to mourn at all.
These and other manifestations of grief need to be acknowledged and honored, recognizing that grief can burst out in displays of emotion, or remain buried beneath confusion and disorientation, or denied altogether. Honoring the broad spectrum of grief can build trust, which is so needed at this time.
- Lament — Grief is what we feel; lament is how we express it. Increasingly these days, lament is being drowned out by complaint and blame, which our culture expects, reinforces, and which often become catalysts for violence. Complaint and blame invariably involve pointing fingers and ascribing blame, whereas lament expresses the sorrow over an experience that produces pain. Jesus’ pain upon entering Jerusalem is expressed in an oft-quoted lament: “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it. How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing.” (Matthew 23:37)
There is an entire book in the Hebrew scriptures, the Lamentations of Jeremiah which expresses the pain of the Jewish people being sent into Babylonian exile. Lament names the pain, and engages in words and rituals and symbols to ex[ress it, not just once, but as a discipline. Over time lament can help us move through the pain.
- Hope – Hope is an emotional and spiritual investment. An investment in faith. The writer of the letter to the Hebrews expresses this faith and hope: “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” (Hebrews 11:1) We invest in a hope that we may not be able to see, even when – no, especially when – disappointment and despair threaten us with emotional blindness and a deadened heart. Evangelical Christian activist Jim Wallis has written that “hope is believing in spite of the evidence, and then watching the evidence change.” We can help bring about change if we can make the choice to engage in hope. We need help from one another in order to make that ongoing choice. Hope generates solidarity, which these days is in short supply.
- Love – Love is a gift, yes, but more than that it is an act of the will. It is a command: “You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against any of your people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself.” (Leviticus 19:18) Generations later, Jesus issues the same directive:: “Love one another as I have loved you.” ((John 13:34-35) Love is a commitment to wish God’s blessings on everyone – everyone – without exception. As it is said in the Qur’an: “Good and evil cannot be equal. Respond ˹to evil˺ with what is best, then the one you are in a feud with will be like a close friend.” (41:34)
Discipline is required to engage in all four. Discipline to acknowledge grief, and more importantly, to acknowledge and honor the grief of those who are experiencing grief differently. Discipline to not allow lament to spill over into complaint or a desire for revenge. Discipline to invest in hope, even when forces and voices – from the inside and outside — seek to shut hope down. Discipline to love, even when we don’t want to, or seek to limit our love to a preferred few. The discipline to claim – as all major religious faiths highlight, that we are created in the image of God.
And the discipline to recognize that our discipline may break down at times, which then requires us to seek support from someone else or a community in order to continue offering hope and demonstrating love. The pandemic of political violence has generated spasms of fear, anger, resentment, and blame that produce paralyzing reactions, the intensity of which few of us have ever seen before, which makes it all the harder to move beyond reaction to effective response. Our communities, indeed our country, need our witness.
