Blog: Restoring Hope

In an article I wrote last year for Ministry Matters, I suggested religious leaders prepare a "public violence" sermon in advance so when public violence occurs in their community they will have already given some thought about what they might say. But as a colleague keeps telling me, we never think it will really happen to us.

Dozens of religious leaders in what had been known as the safest community in South Florida faced an unimaginable horror last week when a mass shooting occurred at the local high school. For those leaders who had already planned an evening Ash Wednesday service, they were faced with the immediate challenge of making a service relevant. Across the board, however, they needed to be able to proclaim how their faith could allow such a tragedy.

When public violence comes to your community, how will your faith leaders respond? How will you respond?

Domestic violence claims the lives of more than six people a day in the United States. Unfortunately, most of these deaths are largely unnoticed as domestic violence is too often considered a "private" matter.

In Rock Island, IL, local residents believe the lives lost from domestic violence should be celebrated. Each June, for the past seven years, local organizations have sponsored "Flowers on the River" at a riverfront park to recognize the lives of those killed by domestic violence and raise awareness of issues related to violence.

During the program, the names of those killed by domestic violence during the previous year, are read aloud and a flower is placed Mississippi River in their memory.

I was in college when a driver suddenly pulled in front of our car on a highway overpass, stopped, and charged out of his car to angrily pound on my windows and car roof to tell me I had cut him off at a previous intersection. I was unaware that I had done any such thing but I wisely let him rant -- which included telling me what he would do if he could just get my companion and I out of the car. Finally, after saying his piece and realizing other drivers were backing up behind us, he stomped away.

Nearly 50 years later, I can still tell you the exact location in Rockville, MD, where that incident occurred and as I read of a traffic provoked shooting near Denver I wondered if the outcome of my encounter would be the same today.

The Denver area woman was taking her three sons to a dentist appointment and parked her car in the dentist's lot. Another driver followed her into the parking lot, argued with her about the way she had been driving and then pulled out a handgun. He killed one of her teenage sons and critically wounded her and another child. One boy escaped the mayhem and ran for help. A driver who witnessed the altercation was also wounded.

Following the school shooting in Kentucky last week, the North Carolina Town of Chapel Hill raised an orange flag at the town's Peace and Justice Plaza. The flag is usually flown on Gun Violence Awareness Day.

In a Twitter post announcing that the flag had been raised, a town spokesperson said the flag is "in recognition of the alarming frequency of school shootings and to affirm Chapel Hill’s community commitment to end gun violence."

"Every Act of Kindness Creates A Ripple. Spread it Today!" It was the message of blue lawn signs posted in at least 100 locations in several northern Minnesota towns last fall.

Kristen Partlow, the Violence Prevention Coordinator at CHI St. Joseph's Health in Park Rapids, MN advocated the use of the signs. "Opening a door for someone or sharing a compliment or smile can change a person's day," Partlow told the Park Rapids Enterprise. "The ripple effect of kindness goes far beyond the effort involved."

Residents were also encouraged to use social media to tell their friends some of the ways they have experienced kindness.

Following a mass shooting in a small town last year, the pastor of a large mainstream church admitted that except for a prayer vigil the night of the incident, his congregation had done nothing else. "I feel so guilty," he said, "I didn't know what to do then -- or now.

"City officials told us everyone who needed help has gotten it, but since the shooting, several community groups have disbanded and people are afraid to come to evening meetings at our church," he said. "I just don't know what to do."

Faith leaders, most of whom have never had to personally face an incident of public violence, often admit they are completely unprepared to lead their flocks when an incident occurs in their backyard.

"I hope you don't remember me," the email began, "but I wanted you to know how sorry I am that my buddies and I made fun of the way you looked in junior high school. I have worried for years about my actions back then and I just found your email address. Please forgive me."

Fortunately, I do not remember the incidents that had caused the writer angst for more than 50 years. (I do remember an elementary school bully who caught me at a footbridge after school one day and insisted that I sing a song about a chocolate pie before he would let me cross, but that just happened once.) I guess I am lucky that whatever occurred in junior high didn't have a lasting impact. Today, I might not be as fortunate. And, as the father of an eight year-old, I worry for her and her classmates.

According to a study published last month in School Psychology Quarterly, nearly one third of middle and high school students in California have been bullied. Nearly 50 percent of those students have been targeted due to a bias such as their apparence, ethnicity, religion, disability or gender. More than 10 percent of all students -- approximately 301,000 -- missed at least one day of school because they didn't feel safe.

In an incident of public violence two people are killed on a busy city street. Is it the work of a terrorist, a thug or a mentally ill individual?

A new study suggests the implicit racial bias of news reporters is likely to dictate the answer.

Cynthia Frisby, a professor at Missouri's School of Journalism, reviewed 170 stories in five major national publications describing public shootings from 2008 to 2016. The articles included shootings by police, self defense and criminals.

"Orlando charities learn from prior mass killings mistakes," read the headline on a story about problems to distribute donations in a timely manner in previous mass shootings.

Unfortunately, to use an old saying, "the baby is being thrown out with the bath water."

The consolidated OneOrlando Fund will be distributed exclusively to victim families and those survivors wounded in the Pulse Nightclub shootings. Nothing will be available to the hundreds, if not thousands, of Orlando area residents who were also traumatized by the event but were not on the property when the shootings took place. Also ignored are first responders, clergy and other caregivers who may not have appropriate mental health insurance to address the trauma from this incident of public violence.

In September, The New Yorker posted a 16-minute video tracing many of the mass shootings that have taken place in the U.S. since 2011. It ends with Rep. Gabby Giffords calling on Congress to pass tougher gun laws.

The film blends audio of 911-calls with videos of how the communities look today. The film's creator said he wanted to confront the normalcy of the cycle of outrage and inaction "artistically."

There's no question that the film is haunting. However, I don't think the film maker succeeds in truly confronting the trauma of public violence. If anything, the film further normalizes it. Except for Rep. Giffords witness, there's not a single human shown.