Friends, I don’t know how to begin. I have been roiling inside since last Tuesday, when I heard of the truly horrific tragedy at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde. Merely opening social media has made me physically ill a few times. I finally gave up and moved Twitter off my iPhone’s home screen (a remarkable feat for me), just so I did not compulsively open the app.
I physically cannot comprehend the sadness engulfing Uvalde, nor the idea of those precious children and teachers who have passed from this world. My thoughts have unavoidably run towards putting myself in the shoes of those who are grieving—as a community member, as a town’s mayor, and most of all, as a parent. Each is a distinctly awful feeling, but the feeling of a parent is something I cannot even put into words. I suspect that other parents reading this essay know what I mean. I don’t want to feel this way, but I am glad that I DO feel this way. The only feeling amidst tragedy worse than sadness would be to feel nothing at all. May we never succumb to the cold numbness as a response to tragedy.
I’ve never shied away from my Christian faith in this space. I think most readers know the position from which I write, whether they subscribe to the same beliefs or not. The Gospels recount much about the Pharisees. These legalists were the exceedingly religious people who boasted of their piety. They looked down their nose at those who were insufficiently pious and were appalled at Jesus’s outreach to such lesser humans. Modern society has plenty of Pharisees, but it also has plenty of Gnostics. And the temptation of Gnosticism is something I want to grapple with today.
The Gnostics were a group that tried to have their cake and eat it too. They attempted to separate the purity of God from the corruption of humanity. Behavior on Earth effectively didn’t matter. They saw the material world as corrupt, fallen, and full of evil, but it was wholly distinct from the spiritual world. Gnostics sought to transcend the world around them, rather than improve it. Among other warnings against Gnosticism in the New Testament, Paul’s letter to the Colossians takes direct aim at the dangers of this heresy.
Over the last several days, I have seen plenty of discussion about the evil in the world that leads people to commit heinous acts. Evil exists. We should name it and call it out. However, we cannot merely blame evil and look towards Heaven. That is a human temptation, but it leads us down the road of Gnosticism. The world is fallen, corrupt, and full of evil, so why bother? It cannot be saved, so why waste our energy improving it, right? Wrong.
Our world is indeed fallen, corrupt, and filled with evil. Yet, I look to the words of authors Joel James Shuman and L. Roger Owens in a wonderful book I am reading (“Wendell Berry and Religion: Heaven’s Earthly Realm”). They write:
“God’s redemptive work neither requires nor encourages a flight from this life or this world. God, who delights in creation and desires its well-being, has given humanity the gift of sharing in that delight.”
Shuman and Owens quote Dante’s “Paradiso” in observation:
“The glory of Him who moves all things rays forth
Through all the universe, and is reflected
From each thing in proportion to its worth.”
I am no preacher or politician. I am just a rambly rube with a yellow pad and a laptop. But we don’t do justice to God’s glory or His creation to sit idly by and shake our head at evil. The Lord is explicit when he calls us to be men and women of both faith AND works. As I reflect on my awful feelings, I know that we will never eradicate evil from the world. That does not mean we should not try. I publish this on Memorial Day, when we honor those brave souls who gave their lives for our country. They did not fully eradicate evil, but how much evil was curtailed because of their service? I shudder to imagine the world that might exist if not for their sacrifices.
Last week, I wrote that it is enough to pursue good goals because they are good and important. Our high calling is not changed by the fallen realities of the world. I could not foresee the added emphasis those words would take a few days later. Our fallen world was revealed. Evil was on display. But identifying evil is not enough. If we pursue good goals—starting by loving people in our communities and building one another up—it will matter. And by each of our actions, God’s creation will be better off as a result.
James Decker is the Mayor of Stamford, Texas and the creator of the West of 98 website and podcast. Contact James and subscribe to these essays at westof98.substack.com and subscribe to West of 98 wherever podcasts are found.
Yes, and amen!