In moments of tragedy, we grapple for answers. Pained by unspeakable shock, we seek solution. “We must fix this,” we demand, “So it never happens again.”
We.
Must.
Fix.
Never again.
Sorry, friends, but I’m a little struck. I’m struck by this feeling that “we” are so capable, that we’re capable of “fixing.” We think we’re so in control.
“How could he do this?!” How could a 24 year old man, James Holmes, described as a “brilliant science student” — reportedly planning for months — ravage through that theater Thursday night, mercilessly murdering the innocent?
We grapple and seek once again. “How could he do this?”
We’ve heard some of the articulated reasons…
“He lost it!”
“He’s just off inside.”
“He’s insane!”
“Must be a chemical imbalance.”
“He thinks he’s the Joker!”
We’ve also heard the early instant fixes…
“Take action now!”
“We need gun control!!”
“Tougher gun laws!”
“Stop the violent video games!”
“All movie theaters must have electronic screeners… restaurants, too!”
As witnessed above, in tragedy, we’re tempted to rush to both judgment and solution. Why? Because otherwise we have to admit that evil exists. What James Holmes did Thursday night was evil. It was wicked. There are few other ways to authentically describe it.
The inherent challenge for us then is that no legislation or philosophical explanation can eradicate wickedness. We can’t simply “fix it.” Hence, what can we do?
We can fix our thoughts on what is good and pure and right…
We can focus on the victims… the young man who dove in front of his girlfriend, shielding her from the bullets… the 6 year old girl… the newlywed… the young female sports reporter… focusing on their innocence.
We can focus on the community… how people work together… support one another… law enforcement… leaders and politicians… focusing on what we have in common instead of this divisive crud.
We can focus on a God who knows far more than us… humbling ourselves… recognizing we can’t possibly have all the answers… focusing on the comfort that only an omniscient power can provide.
This post doesn’t offer any answers. It also doesn’t answer any “why’s” or “what if’s,” and it certainly doesn’t provide a so-called solution to the “problem.” The Intramuralist simply suggests that wickedness isn’t something we can “fix.”
Finally… whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable — think about such things.
Yes, we would be wise to think of them.
Respectfully,
AR