"This may not work, and I don't guarantee that it will
But I've got no choice unless you tell me who Jesus would kill."
-- Derek Webb, I for an I
Nothing has sparked as much intensely passionate debate over the last four months as gun safety measures, or gun control (you might call it either, depending on your political leanings).
All of the hoopla culminated earlier this week with the U.S. Senate rejecting a bill that would've required tougher background checks -- a measure that recent polls have found was supported by 86 percent of Americans, according to CNN. The Senate's decision prompted a loud outcry from many, including President Obama and former congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords, who was a victim of gun violence at a public appearance in Tuscon, Arizona, back in 2011.
I have largely been silent on this issue for a number of reasons. For one, I tend not to be as outspoken as I used to be; my inner activist is tired, and perhaps a bit disillusioned. For another, I don't have particularly strong views on guns. I've never owned one; I've never fired one; and I see no reason to change that. For me to get my hackles up about whether I'll be able to purchase a semiautomatic weapon would be about as silly as me getting in an uproar if Jheri curl were unavailable.
But in the wake of yesterday's decision, I would like to offer a couple of thoughts: One common-sense, and one spiritual.
* * *
Most reasonable people would agree that, at face value, the proposed measures were good ones -- although some would argue they didn't go far enough. People who cannot pass a background check and buy a gun through a licensed dealer should not be able to bypass that background check by purchasing a gun online or elsewhere; this is not a difficult concept to understand. I haven't heard too many people dispute this; to be honest, I don't know how anyone could.
In fact, most of the opposition I've seen has been based on "slippery slope" arguments: The completely unfounded ideas, primarily put forth by people and corporations with something to gain (I'm looking at you, NRA), that background checks will ultimately lead to Big Brother confiscating our guns -- or a zombie outbreak, or a Billy Ray Cyrus resurgence, or something similarly ridiculous.
Perhaps there's a lesson to be learned in how easily otherwise sensible people have swallowed such hogwash. Perhaps it's a commentary on how woefully ineffective our government has become; as someone opined on NPR one day this week, if Americans can't trust the government to do something like agreeing on a budget, why should we trust the government to properly handle something like gun safety? Perhaps it simply highlights how polarizing President Obama is; sometimes, one gets the impression that many Republicans would insist that the moon is made of cheese if the president publicly stated otherwise.
But, whatever the reasons, some people bought the hype. Throughout the debate, my Facebook news feed has been littered with lies, half-truths, and quotes taken out of context. In the last 48 hours, it has been filled with posts about "victory" and "defeat" -- this from a country that takes such great pride in a system that is all about the will of the people.
In a blind test, with no identification of the issue in question, everyone would agree that something supported by an overwhelming majority of Americans should be put in place by the people we elect to govern on our behalf. Everyone would agree that our leaders failed us miserably Wednesday, and that they deserve to be held accountable.
We can only hope.
* * *
I was considering whether or not to weigh in on this topic when a Facebook post caught my eye this morning that stirred up enough anger that I could no longer keep silent. It seems that Bob Davis, a conservative talk radio host in Minnesota, recently offered the following rant directed at the families who lost children in the Sandy Hook school massacre -- unconscionable even by conservative talk radio standards:
"Just because a bad thing happened to you doesn't mean that you get to put a king in charge of my life. I'm sorry that you suffered a tragedy, but you know what? Deal with it, and don't force me to lose my liberty, which is a greater tragedy than your loss. ... I would stand in front of them and tell them, 'Go to hell.'"The crux of his argument is beyond appalling: His rights are more important than someone's life.
The truth is, we often extol this attitude as a virtue. Braveheart, the story of William Wallace's bloody quest to lead Scotland to "freeeeeeeedoooooom!," is on many a list of favorite films.
But I think there are some additional thoughts that must be considered, particularly by those of us who are followers of Christ. (By the way, the rest of this piece is directed solely at Christ-followers, who have an extra level of responsibility in how we deal with this and any other issue. We must look through the lens of the kingdom of God -- God's dream and design for how our world is meant to operate.)
The first is the issue of guns in general. Somehow, a piece of metal has taken on inordinate importance for many. The argument over gun rights has, at least temporarily, surpassed even the old standbys -- abortion and gay marriage -- as a flashpoint for those on the right.
Meanwhile, even a cursory search of the scriptures finds the psalmist proclaiming, "Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God" (Psalm 20:7); Isaiah envisioning a day in which the nations will beat their swords into plowshares (Isaiah 2:4); and Jesus himself admonishing his followers that "all who draw the sword will die by the sword" (Matthew 26:52).
Certainly these scriptures, and others like them, do not mean that it's sinful to own a gun; that is not what I am suggesting. But in light of these passages, can those of us who follow the way of Jesus not agree that, if guns aren't the world's greatest evil, they also aren't a virtue?
The recent gun rights controversy is only symptomatic of a larger problem in the American church: Entirely too much focus on our rights.
We vehemently assert our right to public prayer. Our right to post the Ten Commandments in schools and courtrooms. Our right not to be contaminated by the sinful world we live in. Our right to say things that others might take as hateful or bigoted -- after all, we're only telling them what the Bible says ... and besides, we really love them, we just hate their sin.
All the while, we profess to follow Jesus, who laid down his rights -- "made himself nothing by taking on the form of a servant," as Paul described it (Philippians 2:6). We profess to follow Jesus, who was executed willingly because he didn't fight back when he was the victim of injustice.
Am I saying that our rights do not matter? Of course not. Even Paul invoked his rights as a Roman citizen to ensure that his trial was conducted properly when he was jailed.
But I am saying this -- and prepare yourself, it's strong:
When our rights as Americans take a place of preeminence in our lives, we have made ourselves Americans first and Christ-followers second. We have made our flag, or perhaps our Constitution, a graven image to which we bow. We have become idolaters.
We should discuss, and even debate, issues. We should question our government's decisions when we disagree with them. Dialogue is healthy. Disagreeing on issues is OK. I believe there are gun-toting, flag-waving, right-leaning members of the NRA who are sincere in their commitment to the way of Jesus; I would hope that those people believe the same about me.
I don't want to pretend that I know exactly where the line should be drawn; but I think it's clear we have crossed it. That seems obvious when Bob Davis can claim that his own personal liberty matters more than the lives that were lost in Connecticut in December. People of faith from all across the political spectrum should condemn Davis' comments for the vile, rotting garbage they are.
I think it's important to make a distinction here. I haven't heard anyone make an argument against gun safety measures on the basis of how they affect someone else; the argument is always about my rights or our rights. As followers of Jesus, we are called to advocate for justice for others. We are required, in Micah's words, to "do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with God" (Micah 6:8). Our mandate is to be others-centered; Paul, again, admonishes us, "In humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of others" (Philippians 2:3-4).
What if we could take all of the energy that's been exhausted on the gun debate -- and the money the gun lobby has spent to buy senators -- and apply them to advocating for the rights of someone who is the victim of injustice? What if we pushed that hard for something that would change the world for the better? Heck, what if we just loved our neighbor as much as we love ourselves?
Doesn't that seem like a better way forward?
