How to Respond?
I've done a lot of thinking about responses this week. Different ways to do it. Ways that are effective. And this week has certainly provided fodder for my thoughts.
By now, everyone is aware of the shooting tragedy at Virginia Tech. I confess that I don't have a personal connection to this Blacksburg college other than the fact that they share a conference with Clemson (as of a couple years ago - and they've already won a title. Which drives me nuts). I don't know anyone who attends or works there. But I feel the pain of the massacre. It hits me on multiple levels.
Most of those come from the fact that, at least for another month or so, I am still a college student myself. If this is possible at Virginia Tech, it can easily happen at Furman, much as I hesitate to admit it. I have confidence in FUPO (well, except when it comes to parking tickets), but even our campus isn't 100% safe. Our bubble isn't impenetrable. The reality is, all it takes is one person to snap and get his hands on an automatic weapon for a tragedy of this scale to occur anywhere anytime.
At the same time, the shootings hit me on levels that are much less selfish. I feel deep stirrings in my spirit. And a stirring of the Spirit. That's right, THE Spirit. The Holy Spirit.
It's a call to respond.
I became more acutely aware of this call immediately after 9/11 about six years ago. I felt it again when Hurricane Katrina ravaged Louisiana and the Gulf Coast. I felt it this week. It's hard to put into words exactly what the call to respond entails. Often, I don't know until I get off my rear and do something. The best way I can say it is that I feel God's Spirit reminding me of the sense of urgency in our mission.
It saddens me that it takes a tragedy of this sort to remind me, and many others, of just how important our calling to reach out to others with the love of Christ is. We shouldn't have to wait for a gunman or a Cat. 5 hurricane to move us into action. We should already be out there doing it. Jesus left us with the call two thousand years ago, and I think that as Christians, our love response needs to be proactive rather than reactive. What are we still waiting on? What more do we need to show us...well, the need?
On Monday afternoon, as I kept up with the news from Virginia Tech and watched the death toll continue to mount, I tried to think of something I could do. Part of me wanted to be up in Blacksburg right at that moment to comfort students and offer any help that I could. Since that wasn't feasible (and I doubt my car would survive an excursion into Virginia without an oil change and thorough inspection of the gears, which I can't do until tax returns come in), I began thinking of what to do here at Furman in the immediate short term. Making banners, sending condolence cards, and putting up Facebook "Today, we are all Hokies" pictures were nice, but those would come later. I wanted to do something right then. Something immediately beneficial.
Then I thought of the early church. Specifically the time when King Herod started to bring the hammer down on the followers of the Way, as Christians were called back then. His first targets were Jesus' disciples. After all, what better way to put a stop to this radical new threat against his power than to go after those closest to the Messiah? They already tried killing Jesus. That didn't work out so well. But since He wasn't around anymore, and the all-too-human disciples were taking up the cause, they were ideal marks for persecution. First James was put to death. Then Peter was arrested and jailed.
If CNN and Fox News had been in existence in those days, Peter's arrest would have dominated the headlines in a similar fashion to the Virginia Tech shootings. There'd be eyewitness reports, interviews with head prison officials, speculating on how it was connected to James' death, etc. If cell phones were around back then, somebody would have snapped a video of the arrest and sent it to YouTube, where it's certain it would have over 100,000 hits in less than a day. But I'm getting carried away.
The early believers obviously felt a similar need to respond in some way. They could have organized protests for Peter's civil rights. They could have sat around, moping and sulking in fear for their lives. Neither of those actions would have amounted to a hill of beans. Instead, they went directly to the Spirit of God. Acts 12:5 states that while Peter was in prison, "the church was earnestly praying to God for him."
Too often, we underestimate the power of prayer. Truly, it is much more than closing your eyes, bowing your head, getting on hands and knees, and everything else society claims it is. Prayer is an act of mortal surrender. An opening of the immortal flood gates. It is coming clean in the presence of Yahweh Himself. Admitting how weak and helpless we are, as tragedies such as Virginia Tech so often remind us. Genuine and fervent prayer equals a tremendous response because it places these tragedies in the hands of One greater than us. It openly invites the Holy Spirit to work His Will. As Jim Cymbala once put it, prayer is the engine that drives the church of God.
I knew then how I had to respond.
I went straight away to the chapel and asked Susan Bennett if we could have a campus-wide prayer vigil for the victims and families of the shootings. I had an idea that Furman would hold a memorial service in a week or so anyway. Even so my thinking was that a week is a long period of time. For some, our raw feelings of fear, anger, and disbelief needed an immediate release. Like I said, our common bond as college kids makes us at least a little scared when things like this happen because we are forced to realize how vulnerable we are. How hopeless facing death and the grieving process without God is. And just as importantly, how urgent our call to respond in love is.
So we held a candlelit vigil in the garden room that evening. About seven or eight people showed up to pray. It lasted for an hour and a half. I found it an incredibly positive and uplifting experience, and I think it benefitted those who came as well. The grief and the horror of what happened were no less real after the vigil was over but we were reminded anew that God turns our evil to good. Even tragedy can be used for His purpose.
Two days later, I found another way to help: donating blood. I'd done it before, but the last time, I grew nauseated less than five minutes in. This time, I got through all ten minutes until they started to take the needle out. Then Old Faithful struck. I'll spare you the gory details, but let's just say two barf bags were pressed into service. But it was worth it. Knowing my blood would be used to save lives was worth all the icky nausea. Besides, that was nothing compared to what Jesus felt when he shed His blood. Not even on the same scale.
If nothing else, this reminded me that we shouldn't wait for such tragedy to happen before we go and minister to those who need it. And I think that's a valuable lesson.
Because we have a calling to respond. That is our mission no matter the circumstance.
How will you respond?
By now, everyone is aware of the shooting tragedy at Virginia Tech. I confess that I don't have a personal connection to this Blacksburg college other than the fact that they share a conference with Clemson (as of a couple years ago - and they've already won a title. Which drives me nuts). I don't know anyone who attends or works there. But I feel the pain of the massacre. It hits me on multiple levels.
Most of those come from the fact that, at least for another month or so, I am still a college student myself. If this is possible at Virginia Tech, it can easily happen at Furman, much as I hesitate to admit it. I have confidence in FUPO (well, except when it comes to parking tickets), but even our campus isn't 100% safe. Our bubble isn't impenetrable. The reality is, all it takes is one person to snap and get his hands on an automatic weapon for a tragedy of this scale to occur anywhere anytime.
At the same time, the shootings hit me on levels that are much less selfish. I feel deep stirrings in my spirit. And a stirring of the Spirit. That's right, THE Spirit. The Holy Spirit.
It's a call to respond.
I became more acutely aware of this call immediately after 9/11 about six years ago. I felt it again when Hurricane Katrina ravaged Louisiana and the Gulf Coast. I felt it this week. It's hard to put into words exactly what the call to respond entails. Often, I don't know until I get off my rear and do something. The best way I can say it is that I feel God's Spirit reminding me of the sense of urgency in our mission.
It saddens me that it takes a tragedy of this sort to remind me, and many others, of just how important our calling to reach out to others with the love of Christ is. We shouldn't have to wait for a gunman or a Cat. 5 hurricane to move us into action. We should already be out there doing it. Jesus left us with the call two thousand years ago, and I think that as Christians, our love response needs to be proactive rather than reactive. What are we still waiting on? What more do we need to show us...well, the need?
On Monday afternoon, as I kept up with the news from Virginia Tech and watched the death toll continue to mount, I tried to think of something I could do. Part of me wanted to be up in Blacksburg right at that moment to comfort students and offer any help that I could. Since that wasn't feasible (and I doubt my car would survive an excursion into Virginia without an oil change and thorough inspection of the gears, which I can't do until tax returns come in), I began thinking of what to do here at Furman in the immediate short term. Making banners, sending condolence cards, and putting up Facebook "Today, we are all Hokies" pictures were nice, but those would come later. I wanted to do something right then. Something immediately beneficial.
Then I thought of the early church. Specifically the time when King Herod started to bring the hammer down on the followers of the Way, as Christians were called back then. His first targets were Jesus' disciples. After all, what better way to put a stop to this radical new threat against his power than to go after those closest to the Messiah? They already tried killing Jesus. That didn't work out so well. But since He wasn't around anymore, and the all-too-human disciples were taking up the cause, they were ideal marks for persecution. First James was put to death. Then Peter was arrested and jailed.
If CNN and Fox News had been in existence in those days, Peter's arrest would have dominated the headlines in a similar fashion to the Virginia Tech shootings. There'd be eyewitness reports, interviews with head prison officials, speculating on how it was connected to James' death, etc. If cell phones were around back then, somebody would have snapped a video of the arrest and sent it to YouTube, where it's certain it would have over 100,000 hits in less than a day. But I'm getting carried away.
The early believers obviously felt a similar need to respond in some way. They could have organized protests for Peter's civil rights. They could have sat around, moping and sulking in fear for their lives. Neither of those actions would have amounted to a hill of beans. Instead, they went directly to the Spirit of God. Acts 12:5 states that while Peter was in prison, "the church was earnestly praying to God for him."
Too often, we underestimate the power of prayer. Truly, it is much more than closing your eyes, bowing your head, getting on hands and knees, and everything else society claims it is. Prayer is an act of mortal surrender. An opening of the immortal flood gates. It is coming clean in the presence of Yahweh Himself. Admitting how weak and helpless we are, as tragedies such as Virginia Tech so often remind us. Genuine and fervent prayer equals a tremendous response because it places these tragedies in the hands of One greater than us. It openly invites the Holy Spirit to work His Will. As Jim Cymbala once put it, prayer is the engine that drives the church of God.
I knew then how I had to respond.
I went straight away to the chapel and asked Susan Bennett if we could have a campus-wide prayer vigil for the victims and families of the shootings. I had an idea that Furman would hold a memorial service in a week or so anyway. Even so my thinking was that a week is a long period of time. For some, our raw feelings of fear, anger, and disbelief needed an immediate release. Like I said, our common bond as college kids makes us at least a little scared when things like this happen because we are forced to realize how vulnerable we are. How hopeless facing death and the grieving process without God is. And just as importantly, how urgent our call to respond in love is.
So we held a candlelit vigil in the garden room that evening. About seven or eight people showed up to pray. It lasted for an hour and a half. I found it an incredibly positive and uplifting experience, and I think it benefitted those who came as well. The grief and the horror of what happened were no less real after the vigil was over but we were reminded anew that God turns our evil to good. Even tragedy can be used for His purpose.
Two days later, I found another way to help: donating blood. I'd done it before, but the last time, I grew nauseated less than five minutes in. This time, I got through all ten minutes until they started to take the needle out. Then Old Faithful struck. I'll spare you the gory details, but let's just say two barf bags were pressed into service. But it was worth it. Knowing my blood would be used to save lives was worth all the icky nausea. Besides, that was nothing compared to what Jesus felt when he shed His blood. Not even on the same scale.
If nothing else, this reminded me that we shouldn't wait for such tragedy to happen before we go and minister to those who need it. And I think that's a valuable lesson.
Because we have a calling to respond. That is our mission no matter the circumstance.
How will you respond?
posted by david @ 7:26 AM
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