Who Are We?
A Sunday Morning Reflection on Violence, Faith, and Our Fractured Humanity
“In the same way, those of you who do not give up everything you have cannot be my disciples.
34 “Salt is good, but if it loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? 35 It is fit neither for the soil nor for the manure pile; it is thrown out.
“Whoever has ears to hear, let them hear.” Luke 14:33-35
Three weeks ago, our daughter — a junior at Auburn University — called us with a question that stopped us cold:
“Mom, how would I know if someone was following me?”
Alarmed, her father and I told her to trust her gut. Don’t second-guess that kind of intuition. She had been running in a beloved local park and felt like a man was following her. She sped up and left immediately. We agreed she shouldn’t return unless she had a friend with her.
Then this past Sunday, we drove down to Auburn, Alabama, to take her to lunch after church. On the way there, I saw the news:
Julie Gard Schnuelle had been killed while walking her dog in Kiesel Park in Auburn.
I texted my daughter to ask the name of the park she runs in. Her response came immediately:
“It’s the same one as this…”
She sent a screenshot of the article.
Then: “I was there Friday night… Never going again.”
I felt sick. Sick that she had been so close — separated from danger by mere hours. Sick that we live in a world where something so simple — going for a run — becomes a risk.
And this tragedy didn’t stand alone.
Only days before, Ukrainian refugee Iryna Zarutska was brutally murdered while calmly riding a train home in Charlotte, North Carolina.
Then came a mass shooting at Evergreen High School in Denver, Colorado.
And quickly after, the assassination of Charlie Kirk while he was speaking at Utah Valley University.
I will not comment on where I do or don’t align with Charlie Kirk ideologically, politically, or theologically — because, frankly, that is not the point. What is relevant is this question I keep returning to again and again:
Who are we?
I don’t mean the proverbial “we” that conveniently excludes ourselves while indicting our ideological opposites.
I mean WE — all of us. One humanity. One community. One world that seems to be falling apart.
I don’t know who We are anymore.
Worse still, I’m not sure many of us even want to remember who we’re supposed to be.
It truly seems that all too often physical violence has become our idol and our first response when we face fear, uncertainty, difference, and hurt. Then there are the words we spew so casually at each other that are violent and damaging too. I don’t understand how we have fallen into such callous rhetoric. Most of us, me included, have gotten too comfortable with cruel words and labels (if only used internally or with our friends) for those with whom we adamantly disagree. We speak about those with whom we don’t see eye to eye, not with a common human bond but with blatant disregard.
I don’t know how the Church, no matter its theological leaning, has remained silent and passive in the face of this rhetoric and this widespread bloodshed. Instead, we Christians have taken up much of its time arguing about Biblical interpretation, who gets what physical property amidst church disagreements, or whether the congregation likes their new pastor.
With each of these horrible acts of violence I have read and watched self-avowed people of faith spewing blame and vitriol at others they perceive to be the problem or offering a call to arms to protect ourselves. Can we really imagine Jesus saying “Amen” to either of those approaches?
Just this Sunday while attending Foundry UMC in Opelika, Alabama, I listened to Rev. Patrick Hitchman-Craig share about the subversive nature of Jesus and how he was unwilling to condone the use of violence, nor willing to advocate that we be doormats trampled underfoot by oppression or violence. (Mark 5:38-48) He quoted Walter Wink’s work in Jesus and Non-Violence: A Third Way and compassionately shared the truth that peace will never be found through violent means.
Later I attended Auburn United Methodist Church and listened to Rev. Dr. Cory Smith explain how Jesus demands a full, wholehearted YES to his would-be disciples following him, not a passing yes that costs nothing. He reminded us that Jesus insists we must let go of everything we cling to for security, and we are expected to carry our cross in pursuit of Jesus. (Luke 14:25-35)
There is much that is worthy of debate in this world—the type of passionate discussion of ideas and different ways of viewing things that educates and elevates conversation, leaving each one involved with a deeper understanding of the issues at stake. This kind of debate refuses to become a duel won by negating the humanity and unique experiences of others.
Having said that, I don’t think it can be debated that Jesus in fact chose nonviolence in the face of violence and asked those who claim to love him to follow him.
Friends, some say that America is a Christian nation, and it's time to get real about what that means. We should take an honest look at how Christians have far too often chosen the sword instead of the plowshare, how we have denied the imago dei in much of humanity, capitulating to slavery and oppression. We can call ourselves a Christian nation, but make no mistake about it, we are without a doubt not Jesus’ followers.
Truly, I am left to ponder who are we…who am I? As I ponder this, I can’t help but think, it is no wonder we are dying, for we have lost our saltiness.
So may we pray…
Merciful God,
we confess that we have not loved you with our whole heart.
We have failed to be an obedient church.
We have not done your will,
we have broken your law,
we have rebelled against your love,
we have not loved our neighbors,
and we have not heard the cry of the needy.
Forgive us, we pray.
Free us for joyful obedience,
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
And may we hear the Good News:
Christ died for us while we were yet sinners;
that proves God's love toward us.
In the name of Jesus Christ, you are forgiven!
In the name of Jesus Christ, you are forgiven!
Glory to God. Amen.
Now, let us offer one another signs of reconciliation and love throughout the world!