For the last two days, in our country, in my own heart, the most powerful emotion I’ve experienced has been anger. It has taken many forms. Anger at the senseless murder of Charlie Kirk, spouse of Erika, father of two. Anger at the one-sided response of our president. Anger at some of the things Charlie had written and said that, I know, hurt and even endangered people I love. I hadn’t followed him before, so this was all new. Anger at those who suggest his death was any less lamentable because of his views. Anger at those who seem to blame him personally for our gun culture and imply his death amounts to a form of poetic justice. Imagine what it would feel like being in a room with Erika and their kids and implying that he deserved to die.
Anger at those who insist they know what it all means, when they don’t. Because they don’t even know what happened. They don’t know who got a rifle and why he fired it at Charlie. Anger at those who are getting ready to insist they know what it all means once we have a suspect, fully intending, if it all possible, to lay the act of one individual at the feet of a whole and wholly innocent cohort of their fellow Americans. Anger at those who would seem to invite and welcome more violence as a consequence of this violence. Anger at what all this is doing to our country.
Whatever we’re angry at, we can’t help it. Like fear and anxiety, anger comes from deep down in our nature, perhaps softened by nurture, sometimes enflamed by trauma. I’m not an expert. But I know what my anger feels like. I’m an expert about that. I know that it sometimes makes me feel as though I alone have the answer, if only everyone would listen. Sometimes we give ourselves permission to cull and nurse what we call a cold, righteousness anger as a means of staying strong on behalf of what we believe. We always have to do the right thing and represent for justice and righteousness. But we should rethink the idea that we can domesticate our rage. Our spiritual practices offer us an alternative: To root our values in the rock-solid foundation of the peace of the Risen Christ.
About our tendency to anger, the letter of James offers important wisdom. “You must understand this, my beloved,” its unknown author writes. “Let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger; for your anger does not produce God’s righteousness.” Lest anyone think this just applied to the theological conflicts preoccupying the early church, James also says this: “You want something and do not have it; so you commit murder.”
And murder is what I start with as I try to contain all the anger I feel tonight. I am angry at too much at once and need to get at the root of it. Most of all, I am angry at at what happened. I am angry at the murder of Charlie Kirk. I am angry at whatever went wrong in the heart and mind of his killer. I am angry at the trauma, neglect, or malice that led him to that rooftop. I am angry that he didn’t find some source of peace to seduce him away from his anger. I am angry no one helped him. And I am angry that he had a rifle he had no business having. That the rifle and the fixation on violence it embodied was marketed and sold to him.
Anger at the murder, and anger at the gun. My anger will not produce God’s righteousness. But even when I’m less angry, I will keep doing my best to glorify God and care for God’s people, especially those who are feeling most isolated and marginalized these days. And I invite you take a look at Brady: United Against Gun Violence and its program for common sense reform. If you are my fellow Christian, but you’re angry I’ve ended with this, remember James. Quick to listen can mean willing, at least, to click and take a quick look: https://www.bradyunited.org/our-approach/policy-reform.
May God bless and keep the soul and family of Charlie Kirk. By grace, may every follower of the Risen Christ live deeply into our baptismal covenant to respect the dignity of every human being. May those in authority redouble their efforts to care for and lift up all our people in the spirit of our civic covenant proclaiming liberty and justice for all. May the breath of the Holy Spirit come heal our land. May we hold high the torch of peace and freedom so that the whole creation may see. Help us beat our anger into love.