Empathy in a Time of Hatred

“When Mordecai learned what had been done, he tore his clothes, dressed in mourning clothes, and put ashes on his head. Then he went out into the heart of the city and cried out loudly and bitterly. […] a very great sadness came over the Jews. They gave up eating and spent whole days weeping and crying out loudly in pain. Many Jews lay on the ground in mourning clothes and ashes. When Esther’s female servants and eunuchs came and told her about Mordecai, the queen’s whole body showed how upset she was. She sent everyday clothes for Mordecai to wear instead of mourning clothes, but he rejected them.” Esther 4:1, 3b-4 (CEB)

On Sunday we met Mordecai from the book of Esther. When Mordecai learns of planned violence of genocide against his people, he is overtaken by grief. Grief over such callousness and disregard for human life, grief over such comfort with violence, grief over those who were to be harmed.

Yesterday we learned of gun violence on two school campuses: Evergreen High School and Utah Valley University.

Like Mordecai, many of us are overtaken by grief. Grief over such callousness and disregard for human life, grief over such comfort with violence, grief over those who were harmed.

This grief accompanies the grief of so many needless deaths and so much violence that has occurred in our lifetimes and in this year alone:

Grief over Gazans intentionally starved, grief over the violence of war all over the world, grief over our students of all ages – elementary students even – unsafe in their own schools whether in the classroom, playground, or chapel, grief over the politically motivated killings of Representative Melissa Hortman and her family in June and Charlie Kirk just yesterday. We have not yet had 300 days in the year, but our country has already suffered more than 300 mass shootings. On this day we also grieve the 2,996 people who died 24 years ago in the September 11 attacks, and the further violence sparked by those attacks. Grief, grief, grief.

We ask the question again: as a grieving people of faith, what is ours to do?

What is ours to do when these fatal shootings and acts of violence are stark reminders of the dangers of unchecked extremism and political animosity?

It is that same grief that is our start: a grief that moves us toward heartbreakingly compassionate action.

I did not know Representative Hortman, though from what I have read, we probably would have agreed on a number of matters. By many accounts, she was a person of compassion and justice. Her terrible death does not change that.

I did not know Charlie Kirk, though from what I have read, we probably would have disagreed on most matters. By many accounts, he was a person of division and disinformation. His terrible death does not change that.

As a person of faith, I grieve both their deaths as well as what their killings mean for our ever-fragile political system. I grieve that the sorrow we feel at their deaths will likely not bring us together but seem to be driving us farther apart.

Our current world climate is testing the tension of two truths being true at the same time. Today, many are presented with the tension of detesting the words and ideas of someone and the way they lived their life, while also mourning the violence that led to their death.

In response to the death of Charlie Kirk, Qasim Rashid asks the timely question: “Why have empathy for those who show none?” Rashid is an American Muslim, an identity that Kirk and many of his supporters particularly loathed.

Rashid proclaims, “I can detest what Kirk stood for and the hatred he spread and work ferociously to counter his hate. And, I can be sure to not allow Kirk’s injustices make me act like him. I will not allow his fear of the other infect my ability to see the humanity in every person.”

Our task is to not let anything, any person, any harm prevent us from seeing the humanity in every other person.

Including Charlie Kirk. Including the shooters at both Utah Valley University and Evergreen Highschool, and every school shooter. Including Representative Melissa Hortman and her family. Including every victim of gun violence and any kind of violence.

Rashid continues, “For me, this is a moment to double down. To expand our spheres of compassion. To deepen our service to humanity. To increase our engagement with those willing to engage. To refuse to give up hope on this country and this world. And to continue our fight for justice for all people.”

What is ours to do, O people of faith, O followers in the way of Christ, O beloved ones of God?

• It is ours to take the space we need to process, to feel the honest feelings we have (even the ones that feel ugly or wrong or unfaithful), and, when we’re ready, to make space in our hearts for compassion also.

• It is ours to take be understanding of those who aren’t ready for compassion, and ours to hold space for them (or us) until compassion comes.

• It is ours to recognize and loudly proclaim that violence and killing is not the way toward peace, justice, or unity.

• It is ours to speak against the harmful ways that some live while also mourning the violence of their death.

It is ours to have empathy for those who show none.

Starting with grief, we’ll move toward compassion. In this same way I’ll close with a prayer of lament and courage from the (other) Rev. Richards-Kuan:

May we shamed by our desire for blood from our enemies, may we be dismayed and lament violence and death, may we be horrified when children must fear going to school from the threat of violence.

May our prayers be directed toward action and not religious sentimentalities. May we commit to our neighbors, not because we agree with them, but because every person is created in the image of God and endowed with sacred worth. May we refuse to accept gun violence but commit to those collective actions that so clearly reduce the likelihood of violence.

God Almighty, make this so because you had to watch your son be violently killed. God, make this so because Jesus told us to pray for our enemies and those that persecute us. God, make this so because we know you are faithful to us even when we are not faithful to you. God make this so because we are so desperate for this to never happen again despite the fact that we keep letting it happen over and over again.

God, forgive us. God deliver us. Come Holy Spirit, come.

Let’s go do what is ours to do.

With love,
Pastor Karyn