There are no words to express how terrible was the news of the Texas school shootings.  On top of a series of other unbelievably evil events, it was beyond comprehension.  I had several things I wanted to share this week, but I just can’t get beyond the events of the last several days.  While politicians wrangle over the causes and news people attempt to grab headlines with further details, two competing thoughts whirl in my head, and two sets of feelings wrestle in my heart.

The first is how terrible I feel for the loved ones of those who have died, and how hopeless the circumstances seem in which such things can come, event following event, apparently without anything to stem the tide.  I pray for the injured and the mournful, and even though I am not directly involved, my heart aches along with them for their losses.  Oh, I am thankful for the heroes who put themselves in harm’s way to stop the rampages, and I recognize things are not as bad as they could be.  But how horrific can things become?

It’s not just those who have died in the rampages of the last week.  Violence of every sort seems to be ramping up all around the globe, from wars to persecutions to gang violence to the demand to choose to end the life of a baby in the womb for whatever reason.  There are violent words, violent emotions, violent sports, violent sexual expression, and virtual video violence.  Hatred and anger demand expression at almost every turn.  I have to just hide away from the news at times to get some relief.

The other thing that rises in my heart, however, is hope.  I don’t hope that we can fix what is going on in this world.  In my mind and in my heart, I know such an expectation is doomed.  For all the “progress” human culture has tried to make, human beings are not demonstrably better, by and large, than when some envious and violent people tortured and killed a kind, gentle man who did nothing but heal, help, and tell the truth.  No, this world will not change until hearts change, one by one.

As impossible as it may seem, my hope is growing.  It is an unearthly hope, a hope born in heaven.  It is the hope created by the death of that kind, gentle man I referred to, whose name is Jesus.  My hope is that each of the precious young ones who have died have been given a much better place, one of peace, joy, and love.  My hope is that, one day, each will be re-united with those who mourn their death today.  The darker this world grows, the more that hope grows, bright as day.  Jesus said it plainly.  “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)  This hope is not based in platitudes, nor is it a cheap hope.  It cost God the life of his only beloved Son.  It is the only real hope that is offered in this violent, dark world.

Jesus offers it freely to anyone who needs it.  He knows horrific, and mourns it like we do.  That’s why he died and rose, so that we might have hope beyond this dark world as we mourn.  As Paul reminded his friends who lost those they loved a long time ago, “… we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep (die), or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope.  We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep (died) in him.”  (1 Thessalonians 4:13-14)

Mourn with me.  But let us mourn with hope.