Dear Good People of Trinity Church,
Just before the 5:30 Eucharist on Wednesday, my phone buzzed with news: Charlie Kirk had been killed. A conservative political activist and a deeply polarizing figure—followed by millions, despised by millions—his death was immediately met with words of horror, outrage, and disgust. The airwaves filled with the usual rhetoric about political violence, gun control, and the deep divides in our society.
I walked into the chapel for worship and offered a reflection—disjointed, raw, unrefined. Today, on 9/11 of all days, I am trying to write something more thoughtful. As a priest, people expect me to offer a word: grounding, hope, faith. What follows is simply my heart and mind in this moment. Yesterday my words were different; tomorrow they may be different still.
First - why are we shocked? We live in a world steeped in violence. Every day, people are shot and killed. According to the Pew Research Center, nearly 47,000 people died of gun-related injuries in 2023—38% were murder. That is nearly 18,000 murders in one year. Someone gets angry, picks up a gun, and takes a life.
But violence is not only personal—it is systemic, national, global. Governments plot and plan wars. Entire populations are sacrificed because of power, anger, greed, and fear, but under the guise of something good and noble, necessary and courageous. Violence is not an occasional interruption in our world; it is all too often the normative reality.
And the violence of our world is not only about guns, not by any means. There is economic violence, relational violence, sexual violence, emotional violence, “tribal” violence, religious violence – violence contaminates the very fabric of our being. Some is public, graphic, and on display. Some is quiet, subtle, cunning, and seductive—yet just as destructive, just as damning.
Second - on Sunday, I said that Jesus warns us: following him will get very real. Because the world is broken—broken in a uniquely human way with envy, fear, jealousy, and hate. Since the beginning, we have continually responded to that brokenness with violence.
So, what do we do as followers of Christ? We cannot stand on some imagined moral high ground, as if we have special clarity because we “follow” Jesus. No—we fall to our knees and pray. We beg for forgiveness. We search our souls, honestly confronting the truth of our own violence—sometimes hidden in the shadows of our hearts, sometimes shockingly exposed. And we trust in God’s love and grace. Only then can we begin to live differently, see differently, speak differently, act differently—not adding to the darkness, but bringing even the faintest light. And this we believe: the darkness cannot and will not overcome the light, even when it shines dimly from our fragile human souls.
Finally - I do not know if these words bring any comfort or clarity, but I offer them in faith, as we seek our way forward together. My dear ones, there will be more violence - there always is. But, there will also be more love, more hope, more life. There always is!
I leave you with a prayer from the wedding liturgy, written for couples beginning their life together, but just as fitting for us, as we continue on this sacred journey.
Make [our] life together a sign of Christ’s love to this sinful and broken world,
that unity may overcome estrangement,
forgiveness heal guilt,
and joy conquer despair. Amen.
Peace and blessings,
Paul+
