Notes (and nothing more than notes) on a tragedy

 “We already know what form the analysis of the assassination attempt will be.  Everyone will say what a tragedy it is.  Then commentators will take sides.  Those on the left will blame the Tea Party's violent rhetoric and "Second Amendment solutions."  Those on the right will blame irresponsible individuals and Socialism.  Progressives will call for more gun control; conservatives will say more people should carry guns. Everyone will have some sort of spin that benefits their party, their platform, and their policies….This Sunday, many Americans will go to church.  A sizeable number of those people may be hoping to hear something that helps them make sense of the shooting of Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords and the others who had gathered at her sidewalk townhall in Tucson.  Some pastors may note the event in prayer and some may say something during announcements or add a sentence to their sermons.  But others might say nothing, sticking instead to prepared texts and liturgies.  Many will eschew speaking of politics.  That would be a mistake.” Diana Butler Bass [emphasis mine].

What would I say if I were in the pulpit today?  For my own part, I pray both for the victims and the shooter but I doubt I could handle the situation with the grace that Diana writes about.  And yet, as she says, something must be said.

In offering what the Christian response should be:

“At their best, American pulpits are not about taking sides and blaming.  Those pulpits should be places to reflect on theology and life, on the Word and our words.  I hope that sermons tomorrow will go beyond expressions of sympathy or calls for civility and niceness.  Right now, we need some sustained spiritual reflection on how badly we have behaved in recent years as Americans--how much we've allowed fear to motivate our politics, how cruel we've allowed our discourse to become, how little we've listened, how much we've dehumanized public servants, how much we hate.”

Diana does not say so, but by noting what we should learn through our spiritual reflection, we are indeed in the business of assigning some blame and offering critique.  The brilliance of her approach is that we are supposed to convict ourselves instead of shifting the responsibility to others.  She is offering an old-fashioned call to repentance… and that isn’t a bad thing, but ‘blame’ is an out-of-fashion word.

[Don’t let this fool you, I appreciate Diana’s column deeply.  I wouldn’t quote it at length otherwise.  It’s worth reading since I’m not addressing her central point.]

Along with many people on my Facebook feed, I think that the rhetoric coming from the Political Right in this country contributed mightily to the shooting yesterday.  Does that go into a sermon?  Like I said, I may not have the grace to leave that issue aside, and the desire for many to blame the Right may leave people disappointed if a condemnation is not forthcoming.  This does not necessarily make condemnation correct, it just means that strong words feel gratifying after such a horrific event.

And the to-and-fro of my thinking comes down to a central question:  in recent years people across the political spectrum have used martial and violent language, but how much direct responsibility do political figures and commentators really hold when a mentally ill individual decides to shoot people?  The Right is getting the blame on this one but they correctly point out that the Left has also resorted to violent language.  Perhaps the reason that the Right is seen as more prone to violence is because they are stereotyped as gun-toting looneys with hair-triggers while the Left is stereotyped as soft and cowering people afraid of guns.  Of course, it doesn’t help that tea party members come to events with signs that say “We came unarmed (this time)” and in some cases they do come armed.

Much is being made of Sarah Palin and her infamous map that put Rep. Giffords and other politicians in crosshairs.  At the time of its release, commentators predicted violence and this has come to pass. It is telling that websites supportive of Palin were quick to expunge the map from their archives yesterday, either out of respect for the victims or damage control.  Now the Palin camp is saying that the crosshairs were actually “surveying symbols,” even though the language of “taking aim” and “reloading” were common parlance during the same time period.  I can’t help but think that Palin and her supporters either 1) now realize that the symbols were irresponsible, but cannot say so because of the possibility of appearing weak to their constituency or 2) they still don’t see a problem with the map but know that the image is political trouble.  In any case, it is an implicit acknowledgement that words and symbols have a meaning beyond any original intent.

Most people are going to say that rhetoric needs to cool down, so I won’t harp on that, but I’m interested in what happens next in terms of rhetoric on the Left.  Keith Olbermann, a sanctimonious jerk who seems to me to be the Left’s equivalent of Bill O’Reilly (although Olbermann’s research dept. is much more accurate), gave a special comment last night in which he repudiated his own violent language and rhetorical excess.  He then issued an ultimatum to commentators on the Right to do the same, or give “silent approval” to what happened in Tucson   But, once again, I have to ask how much direct responsibility one must take for the actions of a mentally ill gunman, and more importantly, who determines that the line of violent rhetoric is crossed?  Is Olbermann willing to dispense his “Worst Person in the World” segment, since the 'worst person in the world' may arguably deserve to die at the hands of the state or vigilante justice?  Perhaps on Monday’s show, the “worst people in the world” will be the commentators on the Right who refuse even the slightest modicum of responsibility. Where will that leave us?

Rhetorically, I fear Olbermann’s ultimatum will be an exercise in maintaining a status quo.  If commentators on the Right refuse responsibility (even though they have undoubtedly contributed to the political climate) Olbermann has set them up to appear to his own audience as equally guilty of the deaths of the people at that shopping center as the shooter is.  I’ve already seen that opinion in my friends.  The ultimatum will most likely entrench commentators on the Right, who will refuse any responsibility instead of actually reflecting on their role.  I’ve seen that in other friends.

I can’t precisely answer how much responsibility a commentator using violent language has in the event that a mentally ill person decides to murder people.  But a good rule of thumb can be developed:  those who hold incredible influence with the public need to realize that the audiences they should worry about are the least rational people.  The problem is that toning down the rhetoric doesn’t make as much money, so we can’t expect the rhetoric to cool until audiences are willing to repudiate what appeals to our baser selves.  That is difficult to do when we are so invested in our worldviews and believe something deeply, whether it is that Obama is a Marxist bent on ruining the country or that conservatives are quite willing to maintain an American Empire while imposing theocratic rule (and this by no means exhausts the possibilities).

…Which is why Diana Butler Bass is correct.  The tragedy calls for a time to reflect on our own souls.  Christians (should) know we are flawed, so shifting the blame to others is the exercise of a slippery pride that takes ourselves out of the equation.  Reveling in Olbermann’s ultimatum is just as troubling and wrong-headed as pretending our words do not have consequences. Even as we call out others who act wrongly (because we dare not cede our ability to make decisions), we must keep a watch on ourselves so that our perceived virtues do not blind us to our vices.

If I were in the pulpit today, I would submit that there are questions we should all be asking ourselves:

1.      What am I afraid of? 

2.      How was I convinced to fear these things?

3.      What hope resides within me?

4.      How do Jesus’s examples and commands bear on my fears and hopes?

5.      What does it take to act according to the hope offered by Christ instead of the fear governed by the world?

Go, therefore, and proclaim hope to a world ruled by fear.