Newtown

Unspeakable evil visited Newtown, Connecticut last Friday morning. I was at my desk preparing a sermon when I first saw the initial reports hitting the internet. I remember reading "shooting" and "school," words that have sadly already become acquainted in our culture. But then a single word froze my heart: "Elementary." No, Lord. This didn't happen. This couldn't happen.

I began following the links, trying to sort through the facts. Pictures of parents weeping. Pictures of police armed for combat. Pictures of firefighters holding children. And then the cold horror spelled out for me, "Twenty first-grade students shot. Six adults dead." I couldn't read. I couldn't breathe. Images of my own children quickly came to mind. My son, Jared, is in kindergarten. Suddenly, I was in that classroom, and so was he. I closed my eyes, lamenting with parents I had never met. The gunman may have shot twenty, but he reached them all. He tore through a curtain of innocence and desecrated a sanctuary. Things are different, now. Again.

When I got home, my children felt different to me. I was relieved to see them safe, and the hugs took longer than usual, though they didn't understand why. Small things gripped my heart. A backpack, a lunchbox, toys on the floor. I walked past Jared's bedroom and stared at his empty bed. I again was with those parents. But then my child came back to life and called to me from downstairs. Unimaginable.

Life got busy fast, and 3 Christmas parties coupled with 2 church services made the weekend fly by. Monday came, and Lauren sat the kids down before school to tell them about what happened so they weren't surprised or confused if it came up. They knew she was crying for a reason, but thankfully their world still had no room for that man. Evil pervades the earth, but God set some mysterious threshold at the heart of children preventing it from full invasion. Though this man is dead, we still see him, but our children do not. Praise God.

But now the world is wondering, Lord. How could this happen? Those who love you will look heavenward with tears in their eyes asking, "Why?" Those who hate you will clench their teeth and ask, "Why?" Why would you allow such a massacre? And what could you ever accomplish through such bloodshed?

My mind visited familiar passages about God's goodness and sovereignty, his grace and his compassion. But then I remembered Christmas. Not angels singing or cattle lowing. A less familiar Christmas story. The wise men arrived after the birth of Christ, and they asked King Herod where they would find the one born King of the Jews. Alarmed, he called on the scholars to determine where this would happen. "Bethlehem!" Herod told the wise men to go and find the child, and then return. He, too, would then go and worship him. But the wise men were warned in a dream to avoid Herod.

When Herod learned of this, he flew into a rage and ordered that every child under the age of 2 in the region of Bethlehem be put to death. God woke Joseph up in the middle of the night, telling him to take the child and leave for Egypt without delay. So in the darkness, Mary and Joseph fled in fear, clinging to Immanuel, God with us.

God's son barely escaped a massacre of innocent children. He knows firsthand the darkness and pain of a fallen world. God so joined Himself to humanity that evil could now touch him like never before. "This is my son, whom I love. With him I am well-pleased." The light of the world being chased in the darkness. The rivalry between a good God and evil made Bethlehem a crime scene. Just one child survived. But that one child would ultimately strip evil of its power to do eternal damage to the people of God.

"Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, He himself likewise partook of the same things, that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery," Hebrews 2:14-15.

Jesus partook of the "same things" as all who grieve and suffer in this life. He experienced the fullness of humanity---weakness, weariness, sadness, and pain. He knew death---agonizing and premature. He knew evil---personally tempted and betrayed, yet without sin. He defeated the Adversary who comes to steal, kill and destroy. He opened up the way of life---the new and living way---that all who come to him might live with hope for eternity in paradise. God worked all of this through the child born King, the one who evil failed to find on Christmas. And now all death can do is usher us safely into the presence of the Way, the Truth and the Life.