Dead babies. Dead teachers. A dead 18-year-old gunman who caused it. The horror is too great for words. We can't get our minds around it, but sadly we're also growing numb. It's becoming commonplace. "Oh no! Again?" we think as terror and carnage flash before our eyes.
Everyone has an opinion about it. And everyone wants to find somewhere to place the blame. Blame is where we hide when the truth is too uncomfortable.
"Stricter gun laws!" shout some. "Immigration reform!" shout others. Was it his upbringing? Video games? Alcohol? Lax school security? Instead of grieving, we get angry and point fingers because it makes us feel like we're doing something. If we can pin the blame somewhere far from ourselves, we feel better.
But is the truth far from ourselves? Maybe that's why we feel uncomfortable. Maybe the truth is closer than we like to think, because buried in each of us is that same kernel of evil. If stirred just right, it might explode in horrifying ways. What if we'd been raised as the shooter was, exposed to what he was, might we do something like that too? Are we really so much better than he?
Mass murders make us uncomfortable for two reasons:
1. We're relieved that is wasn't our kids. Our family. Our friends and community. But it might have been. And we feel guilty for being so relieved.
And...
2. We're not sure how thick the line is that separates us from the murderer. Is it thick enough? Might we commit acts equally evil if left untrained and unrestrained?
Good people are the ones who recognize their own depravity. As long as we hide behind facades of respectibility--us vs. them--we will keep producing men who can look into a baby's eyes and pull the trigger. As long as we reserve for ourselves the right to define good and evil, the standard will always be fluctuating and disrespected for good reason. Without a solid foundation beyond ourselves, each of us may have joined the Nazi party, been part of the inquisition, or fought for the right to own slaves. Evil lives in every human heart and without something stronger than opinion to hold it back, we might have become very different people.
It's odd that in our rush to blame, we rarely blame the shooter. Instead, we scramble to understand why he acted on his own evil in an effort to convince ourselves we would never do the same. It must be the system's fault, the school's fault, the parents' fault, the government's fault, but not the fault of evil. We're afraid to acknowledge evil's presence because then we must admit our own.
It's so much easier, more socially correct, to bluster and threaten that this will never happen again. But we all know it will. Because evil never rests. We're providing an incubator for it in a culture that has kicked God to the curb. As long as we refuse to acknowledge a standard beyond our own, as long as we demand freedom from all restraint, as long as blame remains our only defense and emotion our only barometer, evil will continue to flourish in a million ugly ways.