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Daniel Hochhalter Posts

Graduation Message to the Class of 2024, Helena Christian School

Published by Daniel on May 28, 2024

I had the honor to address the Graduating Class of 2024 on May 17. Several parents have asked if they could get a copy of my speech, so I am posting it here. Congratulations to all graduates! Cling to the cross in your future endeavors!

Photo by Aaron Bartosik

By nature, I am a storyteller. It is through story that meaning is best remembered and preserved. So tonight, permit me to speak to you through a metaphor.

Life is often described as a continual cycle of hills and valleys. At some point—perhaps like tonight—you find yourself atop a high mountain, overlooking breath-taking scenery stretching to the horizon. At other times, perhaps a few weeks or months ago, you stood in a valley, gazing up at the looming mountains around you, feeling too small and with too little energy to overcome them. 

According to this metaphor, if you reach a mountaintop, a valley surely will follow.

However, I don’t think this metaphor is quite accurate. First, it seems to cast us into a frustrating, endless cycle of mountains and valleys.  Second, the mountaintop experiences tend to be few and far between, and all too brief.  As grand as mountaintops are, imagine reaching a summit only to see before you another wide chasm separating you from the next one.

Tonight, I want to leave with a different picture. Instead of a series of mountains and valleys, I want you to picture an amusement park. An amusement park called “Life.”

At just a few years of age, you enter the park through no choice of your own. Immediately, you are overwhelmed by the bright colors, swirling lights, and cacophony of laughter, screams, and chatter. Eventually, your parents hand you off to others outside the family to be your guides. These are elementary-school teachers. With great skill and patience, they lead you through the kiddie rides. They build your trust and encourage you—even gently push you—to try new experiences while they lay the foundation for more challenging rides.

Eventually, these guides pass you off to another group—the middle school teachers. In a new section of the park, they lead you through being a tweener—a crazy, topsy-turvy world of the funhouse with contraptions which spin you around like a dryer and mirrors, in which you everything about you looks wacky and distorted. They teach you how to use your mind, and a strange new tool called logic. They help you take the simple data you learned in elementary school and start to process it. They help you learn to make the best choices you can with the information you have—and they hold you accountable for those choices, whether good or bad. 

Finally, these guides put you in a line to another ride, only this time they don’t hand you off to others. They just leave you there. This line is to a thrilling ride called “high school.”

This ride looks huge and terrifying. And you’re pretty sure much of the screaming you’ve heard since entering the park has come from THIS ride.

Four years ago, your turn finally came. You had no choice but to move forward, climb in, and strap yourself into the seat. With a tremendous lurch, your car slowly starts crawling forward. 

Forward and up. 

Way up.

You do not realize how steep and high it is until you start climbing that first hill. 

Anticipation, horror, and excitement build as the ground gets further and further away. Your stomach knots up. You clutch the safety bar until your knuckles get white. 

Suddenly, the car gradually levels out as you reach the top. You inhale for a scream as the car points almost straight down. With sudden exhilaration, you plummet. You can’t hear yourself scream.

This ride called “high school” is a rush. 

A fast, dizzying, thrilling rush.

For the next four years, there is no chance to react or even catch your breath as you race through a series of hills, corkscrews, and loops. Your life is filled with complex math formulas, research papers, debates, sports, dramas, spirit weeks, and the beloved final exam. Sometimes there are moments of uncertainty that stretch you beyond what you thought were your limits. Other times there are the great thrills of placing at the state tournament, scoring a plum part in a play, or standing before the school to give a speech.

These four years have been a blur.

However, now the car has slowed down and returned the station. The ride is over. The years of thrills, excitement, frustration, laughter—even the occasional meltdown—have finally come to a stop. The safety bar is released. You climb out of the car, wide-eyed and weak-kneed; with eyes wide open, you can do is look at the person beside you and gasp, “What a ride!”

And here you are, trying to catch your breath, staring out at a crowd of people who are here to celebrate your great achievement.

Take this moment. Catch your breath. Remember this moment. Be still. 

Because this is not an ending, but a beginning. 

In the months to come, you are about to climb aboard an even scarier ride in the amusement park called “Life.” For each of you, it will be one like you’ve never experienced. It will have even “twister-y” twists and turns you never thought possible. At some point, you might feel like you’re facing the wrong way, and you might be thrown from this ride, winding up in an entirely new direction. 

It is likely this ride will introduce you to new co-riders, not your fellow classmates here on this stage with you. It could even take you hundreds or thousands of miles from here. 

Just like the last couple of months, as you’ve suffered from acute and pathological senioritis, you will at times wonder whether or not you can make it through the next ride. 

But I am here to tell you: you will. 

Everything you went through up to this point—every athletic event, dramatic performance, science experiment, and research paper—has prepared you for the next ride you will climb aboard.  This next stage won’t be easy. It will have new challenges. And they will be different for each of you.

This ride is likely to include the joys of marriage, family, a satisfying career, and a life of service to others. I can attest that all of those things are great gifts. And I sincerely wish those gifts for you.

However, sooner or later it may also include a severe work challenge, an unwanted diagnosis, or the loss of a loved one. If God blesses you with long life, you may experience all of those difficulties and more. And I can attest that most of us do not naturally welcome such sorrows into our lives.

So I want to leave with you some important truths to take with you, and to cling to in your most uncertain moments.

First, remember that there is One who created this park. One who knows every facet of the park and sees things you cannot see. To this Creator, there are no surprises. He knows you and created you in his image. This Creator, whether you see him or not, has joined you on this ride. He writes himself into your journey and guides you with love and patience. He will laugh with you and guide you in the scariest moments. Your job is to trust him. Not only with salvation, but in every facet of your life.

Second, remember there is an enemy prowling around in this park doing everything he can to keep you from progressing to the next ride. He will try to lure you over to his rigged game, promising you great prizes at far too high a cost. He will show you an easier way through the park with far less effort. On face value it will seem like a good deal, but if you follow this enemy, you will quickly find yourself frustrated, lost, and in danger. Even though God created this park, it became corrupted by the enemy, making us to believe we humans can run it ourselves, without him. Because the park has been corrupted by the enemy, remember that life doesn’t play fair. It will throw you curve balls. It will broadside you. It will jerk you around like a rag doll. We live in a fallen world. This is why you must cling to the Creator. He’s bigger than life, more importantly, he’s far bigger than the enemy trying to pull you away from your journey.

Finally, remember this amusement park isn’t just about riding the rides. It is about helping others find their way. Whether your next steps take you on to college or into the workplace, never stay exclusively inward-focused. There are others on the ride with you. Others who are lost, confused, without hope. Love them. Serve them. Don’t become so focused on your journey that you pass them by. Jesus calls you to “make disciples.” That requires relationship. Be ready for whomever God brings your way. Your own experiences can help to guide them. Be the servant to others that God has prepared you to be. Ministry just doesn’t happen at church or on the mission field. It happens every time you walk out your front door – and also behind that door, in your own home.

I pray your years at Helena Christian School have helped prepare you for your journey through this park. Now you are ready to navigate it on your own. In Christ, you’ve got this. I leave you finally with this: always—always—cling to him when you need him most, and represent him to others when THEY do. 

Eventually, you will climb off this exhilarating, frightening, and exhausting ride. And if you stick with him through it all, at that time the Creator and Redeemer will greet you, hold you, look into your eyes, and say, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

Helena Christian School Class of 2024, I congratulate you. I love you and I am so proud of you.

And don’t forget to stop by and let us know how you’re doing.

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When the world and Resurrection Sunday collide.

When the world and Resurrection Sunday collide.

Published by Daniel on April 1, 2024

It’s been twenty-four hours since the world celebrated what is undoubtedly the most important day in human history.

It’s the day we remember when a tiny group of people, who by the very nature of their existence, came to save humanity once and for all from ourselves.

Of course, I am talking about the “Transgender Day of Visibility.”

Though it’s been around for the last few years, this important day gained great traction in the culture in 2023 after a nine-year-old Christian kid in Tennessee shot up a transgender community, killing several.

Wait a sec.

I am pretty sure that’s not the way it went. Instead, it was a transgender person, who driven by raw hatred toward Christians (according to leaked pages from her manifesto that authorities have yet to release), killed six children and faculty from the Covenant School in Franklin, Tennessee.

To pour salt in the wound, within hours, White House Press Secretary Karim Jean-Pierre expressed remorse—not for the Christian community—but for transgender people: “It is shameful, it is disturbing, and our hearts go out to the trans community as they are under attack right now.”

Apparently, it doesn’t take much these days to confuse the victim with the attacker even in the White House.

But you would never know who the actual victims are if you were one of the few individuals outside of the media who still listen to the Biden Administration and then actually believe what they say.

Out of that brief bit of confusion of major details, President Joe Biden emphasized March 31 as the Transgender Day of Visibility.

Never mind that the LGBTQ group also get:

  • Anniversary of the Appointment of the First Openly Gay United States Federal Judge, Joseph Gale – February 6th
  • Two-Spirit and Indigenous LGBTQ+ Awareness to Celebration Day – March 21st
  • Bisexual Health Awareness Month – March
  • National LGBTQ+ Health Awareness Week – Every last week of March
  • National Youth HIV & AIDS Awareness Day – April 10th
  • National Transgender HIV Testing Day – April 18th
  • Nonbinary Parents Day – Every third Sunday in April
  • Lesbian Visibility Day – April 26th
  • International Family Equality Day – Every 1st Sunday of May
  • National Honor Our LGBT Elders Day – May 16th
  • International Day Against Homophobia, Transphobia, and Biphobia – May 17th
  • Harvey Milk Day – May 22nd
  • Pansexual and Panromantic Visibility Day – May 24th
  • Queer and Transgender Asian American/Pacific Islander Week – Every last week of May
  • Pride Month –June
  • Disability Pride Month – July
  • Transgender Flag Day – August 19th
  • Transgender History Month – August
  • Celebrate Bisexuality Day / Bi Visibility Day – September 23rd
  • National Gay Men’s HIV/AIDS Awareness Day – Last Friday of September
  • Bisexual Awareness Week – Starts on the Sunday before September 23rd
  • International Lesbian Day – October 8th
  • National Coming Out Day – October 11th
  • International Pronouns Day – October 18th
  • Spirit Day for LGBTQ+ Youth – October 19th
  • Intersex Awareness Day – October 26th
  • National Transgender Children Day – October 26th
  • International Transgender Day of Remembrance – November 20th
  • Transgender Awareness Week – First two full weeks of November
  • Pansexual/Panromantic Pride Day – December 8th
  • Trans Youth Day – December 28th

Those are just some. I have seen counts of as high as 145 days of LGBTQ holidays within the calendar year.

And Christians only get two.

However, to most of pretty much everyone not directly involved in the LGTBQ movement or politicians who are not trying to virtue signal, these are just normal days on the calendar. We go on with our lives while politicians bloviate the importance of this community to a press that hardly anybody listens to.

That’s why yesterday–March 31, 2024—was an unusual day. It was a perfect storm—a day wherein the Transgender Day of Visibility overlapped with Resurrection Sunday.

On top of Biden not allowing religious symbols during the White House Easter Egg Roll, and making no acknowledgement of the day to the Christian community, the president got really sappy-goopy about the TDOV: “Today, we send a message to all transgender Americans:  You are loved.  You are heard.  You are understood.  You belong.  You are America, and my entire Administration and I have your back.”[1]

Boy, I’ll sleep good tonight.

Of course, the Christian community did not take this pandering lightly.  Social media went absolutely apoplectic, describing their rage at this offense. Even Trump jumped on board, demanding an apology from the White House.

The cynic in me wonders if this is done intentionally. The world seems to love to get a rise out of the Christian community. It almost wants us to react to support their narrative. However, this conspiracy is little more than a sneaking suspicion.

But the Christian community reacted.

The backlash was so great that even Jean-Pierre on Monday morning pooh-poohed the response by using the standard White House go-to deflection—misinformation: “So surprised by the misinformation that’s been out there around this and I want to be very clear” (Of course tone-deaf individuals would be surprised). She then went on to educate us faith-filled simpletons all the while continuing to miss the point: “Every year for the past several years on March 31, Transgender Day of Visibility is marked.”

The truth is, I agree with the frustration and outrage that a lot of Christians felt yesterday. Jesus is my Savior and king, and his act of redemption got snubbed by the groveling over a group of people who are literally groveled over every other day of the year by those trying to score political points.

It was deeply offensive and even downright hurtful. To not even acknowledge the most sacred days of tens of millions is, to me, yet another example of what those in the White House think of us.

Then again, the world hates us. They hate the very thing we stand for. But Jesus said we shouldn’t be surprised by this:

“If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, it would love you as its own. As it is, you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world. That is why the world hates you” (John 15:18-19).

It’s been that way since the first Good Friday.

It should come as no surprise that the world is going to try to deflect from the power of the cross and the empty tomb.

I stewed over this all day yesterday. I was really frustrated and annoyed.

Then it hit me: I literally spent Resurrection Sunday thinking more about the parody show at the White House than I did about the empty tomb.

In truth, Jesus doesn’t need to be defended. Jesus has withstood far tougher attacks from far more powerful kings through history. The Biden Administration’s declaration doesn’t concern him. Yet a lot of Christians like me were more concerned about the slight. I am starting to think Satan used this to get Christians’ attention onto TDOV and not the resurrection itself.

Jesus himself said, “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself” (John 12:32).

The Christ-follower’s job is not to defend Jesus. It is not to be offended on his behalf. Our job is to worship him, to stand in awe of the empty tomb, and to celebrate the risen Savior.

[1] https://www.whitehouse.gov/briefing-room/presidential-actions/2024/03/29/a-proclamation-on-transgender-day-of-visibility-2024/

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To a broken world, tomorrow Emmanuel comes!

Published by Daniel on December 24, 2023

Without a doubt, my favorite carol is “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel.”

The carol is unique among Christmas songs. It obviously stands apart from the shallow Christmas songs like “All I Want for Christmas Is You” or “Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer.” However, where it really stands apart is among the carols. While the other carols are statements of proclamation—“Joy to the World, the Lord has come” or “Hark! The herald angels sing, glory to the newborn king”—the “O Come Emmanual” is a prayer of desperation.

This carol is a haunting plea, sung by a world lost in darkness. It is a cry for rescue by the almighty God. It is arguably the most representative song of the Advent season.

The carol is possibly one of the oldest, dating back to as early as the eighth or ninth century. It contained seven verses called the “O Antiphons” also known as the “Great O’s.”

You can clearly see why:

O come, O come, Emmanuel,
and ransom captive Israel
that mourns in lonely exile here
until the Son of God appear

Refrain:
Rejoice! Rejoice! Immanuel
shall come to you, O Israel

O come, O Wisdom from on high,
who ordered all things mightily;
to us the path of knowledge show
and teach us in its ways to go.

O come, O come, great Lord of might,
who to your tribes on Sinai’s height
in ancient times did give the law
in cloud and majesty and awe.

O come, O Branch of Jesse’s stem,
unto your own and rescue them!
From depths of hell your people save,
and give them victory o’er the grave.

O come, O Key of David, come
and open wide our heavenly home.
Make safe for us the heavenward road
and bar the way to death’s abode

O come, O Bright and Morning Star,
and bring us comfort from afar!
Dispel the shadows of the night
and turn our darkness into light

O come, O King of nations, bind
in one the hearts of all mankind.
Bid all our sad divisions cease
and be yourself our King of Peace.

The carol was first chanted in monasteries, in Latin, the seven days before Christmas, the darkest days of the year. The monks would chant only first verse at the start of the one-week countdown. With each new day, another verse would be added—the second antiphon on the second day, the third on the third, and so on.

On Christmas Eve, all seven antiphons would be chanted. In and of itself, the lyrics resonate in a world gone mad. We plead for intervention from the only one who could save the world.

However, there is another message in this song.

A message from God to humanity.

It’s message spoken without us even knowing it.

As previously mentioned, the song is made up of seven “O Antiphons”, each a title given to Jesus: O Emmanuel; O Wisdom from on High; O great Lord of might; O Branch of Jesse’s Stem; O Key of David; O Bright and Morning Star; and finally O King of Nations

The chant was originally written and sung in Latin. Since it was sung as a countdown to Christmas, it is sung in reverse order from how it is sung now. The “O Antiphons” are listed thusly: O Emmanel; O Rex Gentium; O Oriens; O Clavis David; O Radix Jesse; O Adonai; and finally, O Sapientia.

The first letter of each of these Antiphons form an acronym: ERO CRAS.

Having chanted through the week prior to Christmas, adding a verse each week, when the song reaches Christmas Eve, the acronym forms a message of hope and anticipation: ERO CRAS.

ERO CRAS is Latin meaning “Tomorrow I come.”

Hidden in a chant crying out for divine salvation from the darkness is simultaneously issuing a proclamation: “Tomorrow I Come.”

It’s December 24, as I write this. Prior to this day, the sun appeared to sink lower and lower on the horizon as though the sun going away. Now daylight grows longer by roughly a minute. Light is coming in to the world.

A lot of us are living in darkness. There is no human solution. Contrary to popular opinion, government can’t provide it. Neither can science, nor education, nor a political candidate.

We suffer from depression, loneliness, nihilism, hopelessness, uncertainty, fear, anxiety, and suicide now more than ever. We put on a brave, stoic face, but it is hard to hide it.

2023 was a hard year. Given an upcoming election, 2024 likely isn’t going to be much different. So we cry out for a Savior: “O come, o come, Emmanuel.” As the days countdown to December 25, they get more and more desperate.

But in the midst of our suffering, God is proclaiming: “Tomorrow I come.”

Tomorrow is a reminder that salvation isn’t coming, it is here.

Jesus came.

The Son of God will take human form and suffer with us.

This Messiah will live as a human.

Roughly tree decades later, this Messiah will die a most brutal death, uttering the words, “Father, forgive them. For they don’t know what they are doing.”

For now, we celebrate. In our suffering, in our darkness, in our pleas, we get the answer to it all.

Tomorrow he comes.

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Christmas in the context of life’s changes

Published by Daniel on December 23, 2023

Twas the day before Christmas Eve, and all through the house…

Not much is happening.

Actually, it isn’t feeling much like Christmas this year in many ways.

Weather-wise, winter in Montana during December has been an absolute dud. We haven’t seen a snowflake since October, and the temperature has hovered in the balmy 40s and even 50s. It feels like flowers are about to bloom any day now.

Even though we have a Christmas tree, and the living room smells like pine, the house feels empty. We don’t have kids; no child-like excitement fills the house with energy. Though not impossible, it’s hard to watch Rudolph as an adult in his 50s. Though, in full disclosure I plan on watching Elf and Christmas Vacation later today.

To add to the quiet, we lost both our dachshunds in 2023—one last January, and the other about two months ago, so the quiet seems heavier through the house. There is no tap-tap-tap on the linoleum, no tripping over a waggle of sausage dogs while scrambling to get the house ready, no maniacal barking at the very scent of the UPS guy as he drops off the latest package at the door.

Finally, for the first time in at least a couple of decades, we have literally no major plans for Christmas.

I had this epiphany last week during a grocery run to Wal-Mart. In many ways, this weekly task looked no different than pretty much every grocery run made over the past year.

Except for the fact that the whole world is only one week from Christmas.

There was the typical Christmas hustle and bustle: people getting ready for parties, bellringers at the doors, the chatter of shoppers brainstorming last-minute ideas, Christmas music playing over the speakers.

This seasonal buzz is what makes this time of year so magical: joyful and busy.

Even I had donned my gay apparel: my Santa hat an and a Snoopy Christmas shirt. I played carols on my way to the store. I even got in a Christmas movie beforehand.

However, as I tossed groceries into my cart, the realization hit me that only objective was getting meals for the week—something I had been doing every week in 2023.

And 2022.

And 2021.

It hit me that, unlike the previous last twenty years, my wife and I would not visit family nor would family visit us. Usually at this point of the Christmas season, we would be in the final stages of preparation: either getting the house or the car ready, making travel plans, wrapping presents, planning activities.

But all I was doing was getting groceries.

An emptiness and sadness enveloped me as I pushed my cart through the aisles of Wal-Mart.

I realized how much I need to be around family and friends on Christmas Eve and Christmas day. It goes back to my first job I got  shortly after graduating from college. I worked at a radio station in northwest Montana. I was far away from family. Further, my work hours weren’t the greatest, so I didn’t make a lot of friends.

To add to the loneliness, I was the only single on the staff, so I was the go-to holiday coverage while the rest of the staff could be with their families. I worked every Christmas Eve only to look forward to the twelve-hours shift on Christmas Day. My mom would call the station to cheer me up, but all I could hear was the laughter and chatter in the background from her annual gatherings at her house.

Since then, I have grown to abhor being alone on Christmas. I hate a quiet Christmas. I crave needing around family and activity. I have to be a part of the warmth and laughter.

That is why last week’s epiphany at Wal-Mart hit me a little hard.

This Christmas season feels different.

Then again, Christmas—like life in general—is likely to be different every year.

As I worked through the realization of a potentially quiet, uneventful Christmas, it slowly dawned on me that every Christmas has the potential to be different in some way every year. Some might be experienced in a context of loss, others in a context newness. Some might be snowless, others might get buried in snow. Sometimes families can’t get together, other times houses might be filled with love and laughter.

Life has this frustrating habit of constantly changing. Nothing stays the same. Health issues come up. Geographic dynamics evolve. Work responsibilities differ. Traditions change.

Our job is to adapt to those changes.

Christmas might be different this year. It will likely be different next year.

However, the message of Christmas—the very reason of Christmas—never changes. No  matter what experiences one brings into the darkest month of December—happy or sad, grief or celebration, loss or gain, with others or alone—we celebrate that God stepped directly into this world to save us from ourselves.

Whatever is going on in your life, may you never forget the one constant in life.

The Messiah has come.

That fact will never change.

No matter what curve ball life throws at you, Christmas will always be Christmas.

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How on earth did we let “never again” happen again?

Published by Daniel on November 4, 2023

As a student of World  War II history, I have been enamored by the question of how the Nazis rose to power. In particular, how did they manage to convince a whole nation that one group of people—simply by birth—was inferior to another? In other words, how did a political party with the most evil intentions convince a nation at the very least to look the other way when implementing the Final Solution to the Jewish Question.

In 1945, when entering the recently liberated Ohrdruf Concentration Camp and witnessing the piles of rotting corpses and the emaciated few survivors, Supreme Commander of the Allies, General Dwight D. Eisenhower, issued two orders.

German civilians burying Jewish corpses at Ohrdruf Concentration Camp.

First, he ordered members of Congress and editors of news organization to come to Ohrdruf and document the overpowering “evidence of bestiality and cruelty” of what he saw. His reason was prophetic: no one is going to believe the common practices of the Nazi concentration camp. There can be no doubt that this horror actually happened.

Secondly, he ordered his officers force German citizens of nearby towns to come and give the piles of bodies a proper burial. The citizen’s crime essentially was apathy. Now they must see and smell for themselves the stench and suffering the Reich thrust upon the Jews.

Apathy can never be an excuse.

Since the 1940s, the horror and shock of the Nazi death camps generated the phrase: never again.

“Never again” was the driving force to keep six million memories alive. “Never again” was the warning to make sure this does not happen in civilized society.

Unfortunately, “never again” is upon us.

It’s been a few weeks since a Hamas army shot rockets and invaded Israeli settlements, taking hundreds of men, women, and children hostage and slaughtering hundreds more.

The numbers of Israeli dead from this attack are staggering. It was the highest single-day death toll of Jews since the holocaust.

The stories and images are horrifying.

Israeli music festival attendees fleeing Hamas gunfire

The massacre of 260 unarmed attendees of a music festival by Hamas terrorists.

The beheading and killing of infants.

Children being ripped from their families and “stockpiled” as human shields.

A 19-year-old Israeli woman named Naama Levy, bloodied with her hands ziptied behind her, being pulled out of the back of a Jeep by her hair as her captors yelled  “Allahu Akbar,” a Muslim prayer meaning “God is great.”[1]

This whole attack seemed a clear case of good and evil. Innocent, unarmed civilians—some too young to even walk—were targeted and killed by the hundreds.

I heard a Hamas spokesman claim the attack targeted nothing but two military barracks.

Clearly that is a line of bull.

The images, corpses, and photos of missing women and children say otherwise.

This was a terrorist attack. Plain and simple.

Ah, but life today is never plain and simple.

Within hours of the slaughter, the narrative within media outlets, social media, and universities shifted to put the blame squarely on the victims. The victim became the bad guy. The aggressor the victim. The hashtag  “#support for Palestine” dominates TikTok, but that doesn’t mean much. First, there are fifteen million Jews in the world, and over 1.1 billion Muslims. Secondly, I am highly skeptical about what comes out of TikTok, given its primary audience has just enough critical thinking skills to pass on whatever TikTok algorithms tell them to.

This blaming the victim shouldn’t surprise me anymore. This insanity was foreshadowed last spring, when a trans individual shot up a Christian school in Tennessee, killing three and injuring. Within a day, the trans community became the victims, and Christians became the aggressor as though nine-year-old Christian kids had shot up a trans community.

It was bizarre enough, but with the help of the social media, that narrative got traction.

Fast-forward to the slaughter on October 7.

It started within a day of the attack and has progressively spiraled in the weeks since then. First came the obligatory statements of condemnation; however, they were closely followed with calls for a ceasefire.

This was nothing more than a rhetorical stunt. Knowing full-well Israel was going to respond gave pro-Palestinian protesters to change the narrative, making Israel the aggressor.

Since then, American Campuses and public squares filled with loud and increasing violent pro-Palestinian protests. The timing seemed a little insensitive, but we all have the right to be insensitive. If loud groups want to debate Israeli-Palestinians tensions, fine. I have just as much right to ignore them, and given their ignorance in history and lack of a moral compass, I find it not very hard to do.

However, in the weeks following, the rhetoric shifted from pro-Palestinian support to outright anti-Semitism. Every day, I witness a level of hate and violence toward Jews to come out of college campuses that would make any neo-Nazi proud.

Hitler would be smiling if his charred remains had lips.

‘Anti-Semitic’ Mob Storms Russian Airport Looking For Israelis

Stories have come out of Jewish students locked away in a university library as pro-Hamas protesters banged on the doors and windows.[2] In Sydney, Australia, pro-Palestinian protestors chanted “Gas the Jews.”[3] In Russia, pro-Palestinian protestors stormed an airport shortly after a plane from Tel Aviv landed “looking for Jews.”[4] At Cornell University, Patrick Dai was arrested for threatening to slit the throat of any male Jew, rape any female Jew, and bring an AR-15 to shoot up a kosher dining hall.[5]

Is there a limit to this hate?

Apparently not.

As I write this, I saw a headline about a Jordanian man in Texas, living illegally in the United States, “studying ways to make bombs” to target Jews.[6] I even saw that the phrase “Hitler was right” was shared over 17,000 times on social media with zero response from Big Tech.[7] (Although I can understand why: they’re extremely busy shadowing or taking down pro-Israel posts).

Tweet by a BBC Journalist

Seriously, is all of this for real? Do people realize that the Holocaust happened less than a century ago? Have we really become that stupid? What happened to “never again?”

I have reached a level of horror that the catalyst behind “never again” is currently in the headlines. How is this happening? It goes back to the question of how Hitler managed to convince an entire society that Jews needed to be eradicated?

I now know: you can find that answer in American universities today.

Most of these anti-Semites have zero tolerance for racism. Why are Jews fair game? Do these protesters have any awareness of the irony here?

Sadly, I am guessing that if they do, it doesn’t matter.

Today, good and evil has been replaced with “oppressed” and “oppressor.” Right and wrong are decided not by a moral code but by who can shout the loudest or who can dominate the narrative. An evil act is good if it is against a person or organization defined as “oppressor.”

Apparently, that bound woman getting yanked out of a jeep by her hair is the oppressor. The young hostage waiting to be executed is the enemy. It doesn’t matter if the accusation of an Israeli missile hitting a hospital and killing 500 turn out to be a Jihadi missile that malfunctioned and hit the parking lot next to the hospital. Apparently, if it weren’t for the Jew, the Jihadi missile would not have needed to be fired.

Society has got to get back to the value system of good and evil. Unfortunately, I don’t claim to have the answer how to turn that big ship around. I am thankful that wealthy donors are now openly cutting off their donations to universities and businesses are withdrawing their job offers to antisemites.

I hope it is not too little too late.

For now, Christ-followers must call out evil for what it is. No additional context or nuance is needed.

Evil must always be called evil.

If an innocent person is kidnapped, used as a human shield or slaughtered, it is evil.[8]

“Never again” must mean never again.

[1] https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/world/zip-tied-bloodied-israeli-woman-abducted-in-gaza-by-hamas-militants-during-surprise-attack-video-shows/ar-AA1hQTCx

[2] https://nypost.com/2023/10/26/news/jewish-students-reveal-what-happened-at-cooper-union-protest/

[3] https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/world/australian-pro-palestinian-protesters-chant-gas-the-jews-as-police-warn-jewish-people-to-stay-away-from-area/ar-AA1hZVmZ

[4] https://apnews.com/article/israel-russia-airport-dagestan-riot-antisemitism-aadbfa7389e96f56a9af1ac402195827

[5] https://nypost.com/2023/11/01/news/mugshot-shows-cornell-hamas-fighter-patrick-dai-ahead-of-court-appearance/

[6] https://www.foxnews.com/us/jordanian-national-living-illegally-texas-accused-studying-build-bombs-target-jews-reports

[7] https://www.mediamatters.org/twitter/x-repeatedly-told-us-users-who-posted-hitler-was-right-and-urged-final-solution-jewish

[8] I am aware of the “what about the innocent Palestinian” argument. I am completely aware that some might claim that I am in fact justifying Israel’s action toward a civilian population. However, were it not for Hamas’s October 7 massacre, the majority of Palestinians in Gaza support Hamas, as well as Israeli dropping fliers telling civilization to get out only to be stopped from escape by Hamas and Hamas setting up headquarters in basements of hospitals and school, I would agree. This is not Israel’s responsibility. That lies solely on Hamas.

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Actions, not words – keeping the ego in check

Published by Daniel on July 30, 2023

God has this incredible but often annoying tendency to set me right when I get a little full of myself.

My ability to puff up my own ego is usually done subconsciously. In fact, I don’t wake up every morning thinking, “how can build up my ego today?”

I don’t go about seeking ways to do so.

Ego-building is done more passively.

It comes to me, either via a compliment, or positive statement, or an acknowledgement of an achievement.

Now there is nothing wrong with a compliment or even a good review of my book. In many ways, we all need those. However, when I don’t deflect those praises up to God, then I kind of tuck those warm-fuzzies away into a giant Hefty bag in the back of my head.

Eventually, that bag gets bigger and bigger, stretches more and more, until every molecule of that bag has reached critical mass.

That’s when God steps in and, with a tiny divine pin, pops that bag until it flits about my head making a deflating raspberry sound like air rushing from a balloon.

All that remains is the carcass of that garbage bag settling onto the floor.

Peter has always been one of the disciples with whom I most identify.

And not for the right reason.

Peter screwed up more openly—and dramatically—than the other disciples. Other than his open three-time betrayal of Jesus the night of the latter’s trial, Peter’s ego tended to fill up before the others. Impressing others with his spiritual acumen by saying the right thing at the right time would surely result in oooh’s and aaah’s from others around him.

Whenever I think of Peter, I think of his pattern in the Bible trying to show the others how spiritual he is only to have his ego popped by God’s divine pin of humility.

One infamous example, in Matthew 14, shows the disciples in a boat on the sea of Galilee during a particularly fierce storm (Matthew 14:25-32).

This situation is cause for alarm. Their boat is not one that typically is fitted for rough seas. It is not like a naval vessel or cruise ship which could generally survive a hurricane. No, you have to think of this in terms a large rowboat.

It is completely at the mercy of the waves.

If that wasn’t frightening enough, they were even more creeped out by the sight a figure coming toward them.  It wasn’t another boat, which would make sense, but that of a man walking toward them.

Strolling along.

On the open sea.

As if he was on his way home from work.

If there was any clearer sign that they already sank and have crossed over to the other side, this would have been it.

Then they remembered that lived with the holy I AM, a God who is not bound by the universe’s laws of physics and hydrology.

After first thinking they were seeing ghost—hence the thought they might have crossed over—Jesus’s calling out to “take courage” quickly brings home the point that they are still firmly planted on earth.

Kudos for the disciples picking up on that as quickly as they did.

But the story doesn’t end there.

Perhaps wanting to show the others how spiritual he is, Peter shouts an impressive request: “Lord, if it’s you, tell me to come to you on the water” (14:28).

Peter must have felt pretty good about himself. In front of the others, he put his faith on display before the others. Surely that would be enough. Surely that would be all that was required. Surely Jesus would be thrilled at my—

“Come” (14:29).

Crap.

That response was not recorded in Scripture. I am guessing that was what Peter was thinking.

That is most certainly what I would think.

Words are easy when you are puffing yourself up. Anyone can say powerful things.

To impress others.

To impress yourself.

God, on the other hand, wants something else.

In John 1, the author introduces Jesus as God, the eternal Word (Logos). If there was a context where words matter, this would be it.

Even for God, however, being the Word is not enough. The Word took action, stepped from the throne, and became a human. Further, as a human, the Word lived, suffered, and experienced the one thing the eternal Word never could: death.

A brutal, horrible death.

The eternal Word became the ultimate sacrifice, reversing the curse of sin once and for all.

The Word took action.

Now, back to Peter.

Peter’s mortal words—“Lord, if it’s you, tell me to come to you on the water”—might sound admirable, but they require action.

Peter had to put his money where his mouth is.

Peter had to get out of the boat.

To his credit, Peter did.

Then he looked at the waves and sunk.

It only took a brief second for him to realize he can’t do it without Jesus.

For the Christ-follower, discipleship require actions more than words.

And actions require complete dependence upon him.

I get into that spiral where I am comfortable speaking words as opposed to actively living for Christ.

Words are enough.

Then God steps in to redirect me from myself to him.

Another Dan-ectomy.[i] I must have my ego ripped from God’s work. It is a spiritual surgery done by Dr. God, who doesn’t give me the option.

It’s not about me.

At all.

I receive constant reminders that I am not that great after all. Every time I speak words, I am reminded that I am not as great as I think I am. My mistakes become highlighted. For every victory of moment of praise that points at me, I get at least two reminders that people can get along just fine without me: an unfounded—or more frequently, founded—criticism, yet another example showing my that I am what could be considered a Jack-of-NO-traits, a copy of my book seen in a pile at a yard sale.

Whatever I do puffs me up.

Whatever God does through me shows it is all about him.

And for God to work through me requires that I take action.

I have to get out of the boat.

But like Peter, who cannot walk on water without Jesus, I can’t do anything without him either.

And when—not if— I sink, my only words should be “Lord, save me” (Matthew 14:30).

God can take it from there.

[i] This term is not my own. It actually was coined by Jeff Glover, a dear friend in my home community back in Portland several years ago. But it applies to me too.

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Claiming “Christ Alone” from the bottom of the stupid ditch

Published by Daniel on May 14, 2023

There’s a funny video going around social media showing a boy pulling a sheep out of a tight ditch. When the boy finally frees the sheep, the sheep excitedly bounds away and, possessing the average intelligence of a sheep, leaps into the same ditch. Often the caption is attached: “Some days when Jesus shepherds me.”

I am having one of those moments.

The last couple of weeks have not been my most stellar. I have not felt on my “A” game. In fact, I have felt I urge to be relegated back to the Peewee League of life.

Many nights, I have laid in bed this week, staring up at the ceiling and thinking, “I am a grown man. How did I miss this?”

I couldn’t even ask what I was thinking because clearly I wasn’t thinking.

What has been the most frustrating part was that I did nothing rebellious or intentional, just—well—stupid.

I have felt like the more I try to focus, the more thoughtless I have become. The more fires I try to put out, the more fires are started by my own hand.

If I was in the Bible, I would have been Uzzah walking alongside the ark of the covenant on its return to Jerusalem. I see it tip, reach out my hand to steady it, then–zap–I am remembered for my thoughtless blunder for all eternity.

That’s the kind week its been.

We all have times like this. Some of us have no trouble making amends, rectifying the mistake(s), and moving on.

Unfortunately, even after successfully doing the first two steps, I often have trouble with the last part–“moving on.” My tendency is instead to make sure I take ample opportunity to beat the crap out of myself for committing such a faux pax in the first place.

How could I let [insert latest faux pax here] happen? I question my abilities and even doubt my calling. I demand to know how I could be so stupid, or how I neglected to catch something so obvious.

Then I spiral.

Into full-blown depression.

It’s kind of the way I am wired.

This morning, I shuffled into church when I clearly would have rather crawled under a rock. A cloud of self-condemnation hung  over my head. Up to the point of actually entering the church, I entertained the thought of not even going this morning and just taking a drive to anywhere but here.

I crept in after the service started and found the furthest corner to sulk in.

I was pretty sure this would be a waste of time. I avoided eye contact as best I could. I didn’t want to worship today. I didn’t want to hear from God. I just wanted to beat myself up.

My attitude was sour. My filters were down.

Then Jesus pushed himself in.

It came through the second worship song:

My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus blood and righteousness
I dare not trust the sweetest frame
But wholly trust in Jesus’ name[1]

These words derailed my self-loathing. For the last several days, my entire focus has been on me: my stupid mistakes, my shortcomings, my self-pity. In other words,  the more I condemned myself for my stupid mistakes, the more I removed my focus from the Shepherd.

Of course I am going to be depressed.

The first line of this song, however, tore my focus from self and back onto Jesus.

Jesus alone has to be our source of hope. I have to place my hope in him and not in my performance and accomplishments.

Christ alone, Cornerstone
Weak made strong in the Saviour’s love
Through the storm, He is Lord
Lord of all.

Christ alone.

It’s an easy claim to make when life is rosy and lush.

However, it is another thing when you’re uttering those words ensconced head-first in the bottom of a ditch.

Through the storm. Lord of all.

I think when we beat ourselves up over our mistakes, bad decisions, and just plain carelessness, we are implying that life is not about Jesus but about ourselves. The world is all about me — my successes, my failures, my achievements, and my mistakes. Truthfully, though, the one who benefits the most from this kind of self-condemnation is the enemy.

Instead, Jesus sticks his head into the ditch next to my stuck body, says, “I got ya,” before pulling me out by the leg.

The truth is, I am likely going to wind up in that ditch again. I wish I could say otherwise. But that’s what it means to be human.

However, real discipleship occurs not by boasting how we can avoid the ditch but by how we can utter the words “Christ alone” while head-first within it.

Whether it’s the first time we’re there or when we stupidly find ourselves there again.

[1] “Cornerstone,” Hillsong Worship

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Is there any hope for America? Should that even be our focus?

Published by Daniel on April 23, 2023

Over the last several weeks, I have wrestled with a question that just will not go away: is there hope for America?

I taught high school history and government for almost twenty years, and I have always concluded that the idea behind the United States was a good idea.

The United States was by no means perfect. There are several black spots on our history: slavery, the relocation and/or slaughter of the American Indian, the internment camps of Japanese Americans following Pearl Harbor, McCarthyism, Jim Crowe…

The list goes on. I am not naïve enough to pretend we’re perfect. No nation is.

However, what makes the American idea unique is that it is based on an accurate understanding of human nature. The framers of the constitution knew human nature is fallen.

They were aware that power corrupts, so they made sure to instill a system of divided government and checks and balances, using the strengths of different forms of government while heading off the weaknesses.

It can feel clunky at times, frustrating at others. But I truly believe it works.

No form of government can or will establish utopia. Human nature is by default greedy for wealth and power. That default must be kept in check.

In a word, human nature is sinful.

There was only one utopian kingdom, and that existed only in Genesis 2 when God (the Creator) co-ruled with humans (created in his image) in the Garden of Eden.

Then a serpent, a piece of fruit, and a bad decision wrecked all of that.

Now, a fallen humanity needs a fallen human government to meet objectives that individuals cannot do alone.

Over the course of history, several different forms of governments have been tried.

Monarchy, or power in the hands of single individual, has usually been regarded as the most stable form of government. However, monarchs easily become arbitrary and corrupt. A tyrant might be able to solve a national problem, but then must turn his or her attention to keeping their power.

An oligarchy, or rule by a few, can be used  slow down reckless legislation through careful debate. In the United States Congress, only roughly 3% of all proposed bills even make it out of commitee and onto the floor for a vote. In other words, there is a lot of stupid bills purposed. However, oligarchs can also become corrupt through bribery and looking out for their own self-interest.

Even democracy, or rule by the people and hailed as the most noble form of government, is terribly flawed. Of course, the people must have a voice in their government. The power of government must come from the people. However, democracy has regularly been deemed the weakest form of government going back to the early Athenian philosophers. A pure democracy will establish “a tyranny of a majority,” where 50.1% of the citizens can force their will on the other 49.9%, who won’t simply roll over. A simple majority could declare stealing legal.

So, essentially, every form of government is corruptible and far from perfect.

For me, this is what makes the American experiment work. It utilizes the strengths of each type of government while putting a 3 on its weaknesses. No one branch can have too much power, and the people ultimately have the final say.

This works.

That is, with one caveat.

The second President of the United States John Adams once wrote, “Our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious People.”[1]

And therein lies the problem.

Sadly, we a no longer a moral people.

Now, please don’t misunderstand me: I am not making this claim from a holier-than-thou, hypocritical throne. If you think that, then I assure you you’ve missed my point.

I don’t see myself as better than anyone. I am a sinner saved only by grace. I struggle with my sins daily. I am ashamed of my sin and, were it not for the cross, I would be lost.

I am saying that the collective we are no longer a moral people because our moral compass is gone. No longer do we see ourselves as fallen short and striving to be a more perfect union. Instead, we demand our sin to be accepted lest we risk being called hateful and bigoted.

We have no apprehension toward speaking out of both sides of our mouths, redefining commonly held definitions, moving goal posts when it suits us, and spouting excessive rhetoric that we would find offensive and demand heads roll should those same words are used against us.

This last week alone, in a girl’s locker room at a public school in Wisconsin, an 18-year-old male identifying as trans showered with four Freshmen girls in–let’s just say–all his glory. To criticize this taking of the girls’ innocence is to be slapped with the label homophobe or bigot.

Then, hundreds of teenagers went on a rampage in downtown Chicago, smashing windows and beating up tourists. One six-year-old boy was even shot in the arm. The newly-elected Chicago mayor Brandon Johnson condemned the attacks for making the eyebrow-raising claim: “It is not constructive to demonize youth who have otherwise been starved of opportunities in their own communities.”

This national loss of our moral compass appears at levels of our country, whether in the individual or the highest levels of office (I am still reeling from the White House’s idiotic response to a trans person shooting up a Christian School in Tennessee). Washington, D.C., is little more than a clown show, and given the potential leading presidential candidates, I truly fear the clown show will likely continue after 2024 no matter the winner.

Of course, this begs the question: can America come back from this?

I would love to say yes. We came back from a civil war. Anything is possible.

However, upon completion of the temple in Jerusalem, God tells the people of Israel, “if my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land” (2 Chronicles 7:14). So, there is always a chance.

Yet, sadly, further reading of the Old Testament shows that Israel split into two nations, wherein the kingdom of Israel disappeared following an Assyrian invasion, and then the kingdom of Judah was sent into exile by the Babylonians.

Further, history has shown that superpowers generally crumble from within. Countries come and countries go, and there are no guarantees.

It would take a miracle of God.

I would love to yes but am just not sure. History doesn’t give us good odds.

However, I wonder if that should be the Christian’s primary focus. The body of Christ has a mission and saving one’s country from itself doesn’t seem to be it.

The Christian church has to recalibrate and see our battles are against “the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms” (Ephesians 6:12) and not against each other. It’s not Democrats or Republicans, or the left or right, the wealthy or poor, or even socialism or Big-Whatever.

Satan and Satan alone is our enemy.

For Christ-followers in the USA, our primary objective is not the American ideal but the kingdom of God. The North American continent could look very different in the coming years, but the kingdom of God remains constant.

That is what we should live for.

That is our mission.

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We cry “Hosanna!” now more than ever

Published by Daniel on April 2, 2023

Today is Palm Sunday.

This is the day thay marks Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey.

The story is found in Matthew 21:7-9:

They brought the donkey and the colt and placed their cloaks on them for Jesus to sit on. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, while others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and those that followed shouted,

“Hosanna to the Son of David!”

“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”

“Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

Matthew was intentional to mention the donkey that Jesus rode in on. He was connecting this event to a prophecy written by the prophet Zechariah hundreds of years before:

Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion! Shout, Daughter Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey. (Zechariah 9:9)

Palm Sunday is typified by churches across America lining children along the sanctuary’s center aisle waving palm leaves cut out of green construction paper and shouting “Hosanna!” to a bearded man walking between them dressed in a white robe and a purple sash.

There always has to be a purple sash.

I have fond memories of those Palm Sunday performances.  My acting debut was as one of those kids lining the aisle waving my paper leaf so hard it tore before Jesus could reach the pulpit. I played one of the branch wavers for many years.

Unfortunately, I never got the lead. I never got to play Jesus.

Surely, it had nothing to do with my acting skills. Perhaps it was because I didn’t sport a beard. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact I was five years old.

However, true to the performing arts, I as a budding child actor was having trouble trying to figure out my character’s motivation. I only had one line that needed to be shouted over and over again: Hosanna.

What does this even mean? It seems like a pretty important word.

Hosanna only appears twice in the New Testament: once in Matthew and once in Mark. It is a Greek translation from the Hebrew word Hoshi’a na. The root word hoshi’a serves as a basis for such names as Elisha (the name given to my great nephew), Hosea, Joshua, and others.

Hoshi’a simply means “salvation.” Those names listed above mean “God is my salvation.”

Salvation. Salvation in the highest.

The children lining the church aisle, the people lining the streets in Jerusalem that day were all crying out for salvation.

“Save us.”

But it goes even deeper. At the end of the word hoshi’a, is attached the tiny word na.

That seems relatively insignificant.

I assure you, it is not.

Together, those words mean “Save us please.”

But It is not just a monotone liturgical chant, but a cry of absolute desperation: “Please! save us!”

The Jews at the time were violently oppressed by Rome. The religious leaders did little more than try to make a tense peace with them. The Jews had little hope. God was the only one who could save them from the world’s superpower.

This is exactly what he came to do.

It’s odd to think that, in a manner of days, those very same people would be yelling, “Crucify!”

How quickly things change.

We want to put to death the very one who could save us.

This last week has been a very hard week as a nation. Following a horrible massacre at Covenant Christian School in Nashville, Tennessee, in which woman who identified as trans murdered six individuals, three of whom were only nine years old, the nation reeled.

We saw pure brokenness, evil unleashed on the innocent. We cried at the mayhem and loss.

Hosanna, Lord! Please save us!

Then, within hours, we rejected the Savior and shouted: “We reject prayers. We reject his power and salvation. If God was good he would have stopped this. We need action! Only government legislative action can stop the murders.”

As if any government policy can actually change the human heart.

Honestly, I have troubling trusting a government that bends reality back so far that it makes the shooter the victim. Instead of helping the nation grieve and supporting the Nashville community, the president declares Friday National Trans Awareness Day.

The government don’t have our best interests at heart, only their agenda. And they are not beyond pushing its own citizens out of the way. Government will not and cannot fix human nature. Government is essentially broken human nature on steroids. Given the choice between prayer and policy, I’ll take prayer any time.

So what is Jesus saving us from? When Zechariah prophesied Israel’s king coming to them on a donkey, he also mentioned all that this king will do:

“He will proclaim peace to the nations. His rule will extend from sea to sea and from the River to the ends of the earth. As for you, because of the blood of my covenant with you, I will free your prisoners from the waterless pit.

Return to your fortress, you prisoners of hope; even now I announce that I will restore twice as much to you.” (Zechariah 9:9b-12)

The solution to evil is Jesus, the only source of peace. It is not “Jesus and…” and we’re arrogant to assume it is. Human solutions to sin sound more like what Satan told Adam and Eve in the Garden.

Jesus is the only constant. And only Jesus can save us, from oppression and even  from ourselves.

Palm Sunday is the start of the Passion week which culminates in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ—the very foundation of Christianity.

This Holy Week, like those people lining the streets of Jerusalem shouting “Hosanna!” to the God-man on the donkey, we must shout “Hosanna!” once again. We must pay heed to God’s word to Solomon:

“if my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land. (2 Chronicles 7:14)

The tragic event of this last week and the entrance into Holy Week has to result in a call to prayer.

We have to believe only our God can save us. There is no Plan B.

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Navigating a national tragedy through kingdom eyes

Published by Daniel on March 31, 2023

It is a twisted world we live in when, during the unfolding of a horrible, tragic event, the first response many of us have is not horror at the events unfolding before us, but dread of the asinine rhetoric that is about to erupt.

I followed closely the unfolding events at Covenant School in Nashville when a transgender woman shot and killed six people—three adults and three nine-year-old children. I am a teacher in a Christian school. This tragedy hit close to home. Like most hearing the story, it sucked the air right out of me.

Sadly, and all too frequently, we no longer have time to process the tragedy, to grieve, to be angry at the evil in the world.

The narrative became political almost immediately. Within hours, it was no longer about the victims.

This is nothing new. I have come to expect it even though it continues to break my heart to see how fast the victims get thrown aside.

I braced myself for the typical responses: We don’t want your thoughts and prayers. Your prayers don’t work. Guns are the problem and they must be banned. If you don’t agree, you’re a member of an NRA gun cult who enjoys killing children.

I usually just try to avoid social media for a week or so until the next big thing pulls America’s short attention span to something else.

What I wasn’t expecting, however, was the contortions our leaders and media went through in twisting of the narrative to make the shooter the victim.

This came not from the media, but directly from the highest levels of government.

On Thursday, White House press secretary Karine Jean-Pierre actually stated during a press conference, “It is shameful, it is disturbing, and our hearts go out to the trans community as they are under attack right now.”

Wait. What?

She actually said that.

And she said it with a straight face.

Now I got angry.

How can people harbor so much hatred toward a group of people strictly because of their beliefs, that they can’t put their ideologies aside in order to mourn with fellow humans? I don’t think anyone in the White House used the term “Christian” once in regard to the attacks.

I usually chuckle at irony of watching those who think Christians are hateful and judgmental display their own hate to a seething degree.

This time, I wasn’t enjoying the irony.

Does Jean-Pierre know it wasn’t a nine-year-old Christian child shooting trans people, right? I am fairly certain that this was one of dumbest, most inappropriate statements to come out of the White House. Even considering comments from the previous occupant.

In 2016, following the tragedy of the Orlando nightclub shooting, Evangelical theologian Albert Mohler tweeted, “The Bible honors weeping with those who weep. A lot of out LGBT neighbors & their families are weeping now. Christians must weep with them.” Then-Saddleback Church pastor Rick Warren released a statement, “Heartbroken by what happened in Orlando. Join me today in praying for the families and victims of this tragedy.”

Yet the White House—the very symbol of a united states—couldn’t release anything close to that without bringing up politics or twisting the narrative?

How have we sunk so low?

…Pause…

…Take a deep breath…

I literally just noticed how much of my anger seeped into the previous paragraphs.

I started to edit out my own animosity in order to emulate a calmer persona.   I realized I likely alienated half the country, convincing no one. Further, I have been likely shoved into the category of right-wing gun nut. Or perhaps transphobic.

I have become used to the endless ad hominem attacks in response to my beliefs. I don’t enjoy them, but I come to expect them.

Nevertheless, I chose to not edit out my rant above. This was deliberate. Why?

As I realized the direction I was going in this essay, I had a little bit of an epiphany.

I realized I am not above the frenzy. I am not a cooler head. I wanted to write a piece about a kingdom response to a tragedy, trying to stand above the idiocy, and I wound up joining it.

My fallen heart took over and the rant began.

I am just as susceptible. I realized how quickly my anger took over.

I struggled deeply with this bizarre response. It only added to the pain.

All week, I have been reacting to news with rage and sarcasm. I couldn’t count the number of times I angrily posted something on social media responding to some perceived idiotic statement only to take it down seconds later.

Even though I believed I was not wrong, the question gnawed at me that this wasn’t the appropriate kingdom response.

The kingdom of God is not about being right. As Jesus stood trial, he could have spoken out. If anyone was in the right, it was him. All he needed to do was say something—correct the frenzied misconceptions and bogus charges against him–drop the mic and walk away.

But he didn’t.

Why?

Because there was something greater he was accomplishing than merely being right.

The kingdom is not about guns, gun control, mental illness, untwisting bizarre narratives, transphobia, calls to action, and political mic-drops. None of that will work. At best, it is a tiny band-aid on a severed jugular vein.

So, what is the greater objective than being right?

The kingdom is about proclaiming Jesus has come to correct a millennia-old problem—sin.

The kingdom is about unreciprocated love. Jesus commands us to love our neighbor as ourselves. Easy enough. But he takes it a step further: “But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” (Matthew 5:44)

Though my anger continues to flare up, those words would not stop ringing in my ears. My head—even my heart—knows they are true.

As I re-read Jesus’s commands, I could still feel the anger welling up inside of me: I just wish Christians on the other side of this debate would get off their high horses and do the same thing.

But that’s between them and God. I am not a part of that equation.

I should just focus on Jesus helping me navigate the darkness and chaos.

Next week is the Passion Week culminating in the hateful murder of the Savior of the world.

The love shown on the cross is unconditional and has nothing—nothing—to do with anyone’s definition of who is us and them. That love does not expect anything in return. There isn’t a political stance that could achieve that level of justice.

We must cling to that love, reflect it the best we can—especially in the face of suffering—and rely on God’s grace when we fail.

Your kingdom come, Lord. Your will be done.

My heart is broken over the events at Covenant School in Nashville this last week.

But so is his.

Over those twelve innocent lives lost. Over the trans killer. Over the hatred we all spread against each other while trying to score political points.

Jesus the resurrected Savior is the only answer.

Instead of stating my opinion, I have to understand how I can show the world the answer without engaging in the chaos.

As a member of the Kingdom of God, that needs to be my only objective.

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