The Day after Dallas: Struggling to make sense out of the senseless

Last night I checked out of the real world for a bit, enveloping myself in post-apocalyptic Boston and Rocket League.  It was not until a little bit after eleven PM that I switched to the TV and I am not sure why.  I was not intending to watch any programs for an extended period of time but I all needed was five seconds to piece together everything that was happening.  I immediately turned the TV off and walked off into the bedroom.  Nothing else I did last night really seemed to matter at that point.

At this moment, I am struggling to make sense of what is happening in this world.  I am struggling to make sense of the words of so many Christians, who profess identification with God’s kingdom but speak with the words and attitudes of the Romans.  Black lives matter.  Blue lives matter.  Brown, white, LBGTQ, the unborn, the poor, the broken, the guilty, the rapist, the rich, the murderer and so on…all of these lives are valued because they matter to Christ.  They matter so much that the ultimate good in this universe sullied its own being by taking up the wretchedness of this physical world, experiencing tragedy, hunger, desire, danger and death just as all of us do.  

In its purest form, the Gospel is an invitation to all who are seeking and transformative, not just for the individual but also for the community, city, state, nation and ultimately the world.  The Gospel is for each of us and at the same time the Gospel is for all of us.

The Gospel is for the white male police officer who now find himself in the cross hairs of the public’s scorn for actions he is not responsible for.
The Gospel is for the black male who is uncertain of how any interaction with law enforcement may play out.

The Gospel is for the undocumented Mexican who walked through the desert with the hope of finding work in the United States.
The Gospel is for the Muslim who is constantly told that his entire belief system is one built on hatred and violence.

The Gospel is for the transgendered who is struggling to navigate this life and is then publicly associated with pediphiliac behavior.

 

The Gospel is for Alton Sterling.

The Gospel is for Philando Castile.

The Gospel is for Jeronimo Yanez.

The Gospel is Brent Thompson and other members of the Dallas PD who lost their lives last night.

Angrily so, the Gospel is for Micah Xavier Johnson, who along with others succeeded in bringing another night of terror to this country.
And I hate to admit it, but the Gospel is also for Donald Trump.

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