I immediately thought of Jesus’ words, “Let the little children come,” when I heard the news of the gunman opening fire through church windows during a Mass attended by school children at a Minneapolis Catholic Church.
Glancing at three of my grandchildren, who happened to be close by, I wanted to reach out and draw them into my arms, as if that could somehow shield them from the world out there, filled as it is with random acts of violence.
The children in Minneapolis had already come to Jesus in their prayers and in their worship, even though the shooter interrupted them with bullets, killing two and injuring a dozen more.
The killer, in his maniacal way, had asked the question, “Where is your God?” to those he seemed to target, Christians and Jews.
The short answer is, God was in the same place he was when his Son was tortured and scourged before being nailed to a cross.
Prayer may seem useless in the midst of tragedies, but it’s not. God comforts the brokenhearted.
It’s a truth that runs through the Scriptures. The psalmist in Psalm 119:50 found hope in the promises of God, “This is my comfort in my affliction, for your word has given me life.” Psalm 34:18 tells us exactly where God is when we grieve: “The Lord is near the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” In the New Testament, Paul the Apostle reminds us of God’s presence when we suffer: “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ…who comforts us in all our affliction…” (2 Corinthians 1:3-4).
But if God can be with us when we hurt, why doesn’t he stop the source of the pain? Why didn’t God prevent the shooter from murdering those kids?
Events like the one in Minneapolis remind us that evil is not some metaphysical concept floating out there in the universe. It’s attached to people. We live in a “post-Genesis 3 world,” where Adam and Eve set in motion the repeated cycle of choosing evil over good. Our world is home to people who revel in evil.
We may and do at times wish it otherwise, and we can and should work diligently for truth and righteousness. But it’s a world where Satan—according to the Scriptures, is allowed to roam for a period of time—a world where people choose evil, sometimes horrific evil, like the shooter at the Catholic school, who associated himself with Holocaust perpetrators.
Jesus the Christ came to this nasty, broken, hate-filled world with a word of hope and a warning: “Let the children come,…and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 19:14).
Moreover, he went to a cross where he took upon himself all the evil actions that humans could conceive, so that we, in our brokenness and strife, could come to God the Father, experience the miracle of his grace, and choose the good.
I cannot imagine the grief the parents of those children are experiencing. But I can pray for them, by faith believing that prayers somehow help.
I can take my grandchildren in my arms, hold them tightly, kiss them on the forehead, and pray for them as they travel the road of life in our broken world, a world they can change for the good.
And I can rest in peace tonight, knowing God is not absent from us in our pain, our fears, and our suffering.
“Where is our God?” the Accuser taunts.
We answer: “With us, the brokenhearted and suffering, giving us hope of life in the midst of death.”