My heart goes out to those touched by the tragic events of Sunday’s church attack in Michigan. As of this writing, 4 have been declared dead and 8 hospitalized, while the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints building in Grand Blanc Township, Mich. has been completely destroyed by the fire.
The attack forms part of a sickening rhythm of American violence. Just a month ago, on Aug. 27, two children were killed when a shooter attacked a Catholic church in Minneapolis. It was the first day of school.
The month before, two women were killed and two others wounded at a church in Lexington, Kentucky. On June 22, a man armed with an AR-15-style rifle and a handgun shot up a church in Wayne, Mich. Sunday’s attack comes just 18 days after conservative activist Charlie Kirk was killed in Utah.
It was a week ago Sunday that our president stood in front of tens of thousands at Kirk’s memorial and said, “I hate my opponents. And I don’t want what’s best for them. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Erika.”
When our leaders sow hatred, we reap violence. Leaders who glorify hate, glorify violence. Full stop.
THE MORMON CHURCH was already mourning before Sunday’s attack. Russell M. Nelson, president of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, died on Sept. 27 at the age of 101. It’s impossible to summarize the teachings and philosophy of Nelson here. Yet it’s clear that Nelson, especially in his later years, called upon members of his church to work for peace and show compassion even in the tensest of conflicts.
“Hateful words are deadly weapons. Contention prevents the Holy Ghost from being our constant companion,” said Nelson earlier this year. “As followers of Jesus Christ, we should lead the way as peacemakers.”
Nelson also said: “Anger never persuades. Hostility builds no one. Contention never leads to inspired solutions.”
That message – of appealing to our better angels, of working for a more inclusive society, of rejecting violence – if only our leaders would embrace it. It would come as a balm of Gilead on a tired, divided, and angry country.
Politics cannot be war. Not if we want to make it out of this alive.
SO WHILE it’s clear Trump’s hate for his opponents cannot be solely to blame for Sunday’s attack, or for the recent wave of political violence in America, it’s also true he isn’t helping. Professing to hate your enemies?
Or take his refusal to call Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz after the shootings of two state lawmakers because it would be a “waste of time,” or saying he’s “not familiar” with the name of murdered lawmaker Melissa Hortman, or threatening that “Chicago about to find out why it’s called the Department of WAR.”
Even his comments yesterday, that this was a “targeted attack on Christians,” fall short. Americans of all stripes woke up Monday feeling less safe. These attacks are attacks on all of us.
It all creates a culture where we only care about a victim if it’s somebody like us, someone from “our team.” The other side ceases to be seen as fellow compatriots, always a little less deserving of our sympathies.
The measure of a person, and a country, too, is how big our hearts are. We are falling desperately short.
