Dear PCUM family,

Growing up the child of a career military officer, hunter, and marksman, my house was full of guns. My family for generations has been part of America's gun culture. Guns were family heirlooms--in some cases, works of art. The whole family knew how to use firearms. We went to rifle ranges together, shot handguns at makeshift target ranges. My sister was always a better shot than I was--an admission which is hard to make to this day. My father made his own bullets in our basement with a lead press. He was a champion skeet shooter. He hunted elk, deer, pheasant, and geese, as he had as a boy in the woods of Washington State.

My dad taught us gun safety when we were very young. We were taught that guns kill; to keep the safety on, always, never to point a gun at anyone, ever. We were taught that no one but active duty military or law enforcement personnel should or would ever need or use an automatic or semi-automatic weapon. Those guns have only one purpose: to kill people. We were taught that owning or shooting a gun doesn't make you tougher or more free or more American. We were taught that having a gun, any gun, is a privilege, one that should be extremely difficult to earn, a privilege that--in any sane or rational world--should be reserved for those who demonstrate that they can exercise it responsibly. A life-long member of the National Rifle Association (NRA), in the 1980s my father--a decorated war hero--quit that organization when it became obvious that the NRA had no interest in supporting gun control laws or the safety and welfare of the American people.

There are few people on the planet who know more about guns or about being an American patriot than my dad. Like mine and yours, at 90 years old his heart is broken again by this sad American pattern--the lethal combination of easy access to guns and hatred, this time resulting in the murders of children and teachers in Texas, which will inevitably be followed by the same rhetoric and little change. So, it is in that spirit of our shared mourning, and with a faith that is the "assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things unseen," that I offer this Prayer for The End of Gun Violence, adapted from a prayer by the Jesuit priest, James Martin.

In Christ's peace,

Pastor Greg

A Prayer for The End of Gun Violence

(adapted from a Prayer by James Martin, S.J.)

Almighty God,

I come before you, once again,

after another shooting.

I am sad, God.

So I ask you

to receive into your loving care the souls of the children and teachers and shoppers who have been killed just in recent days,

to care for those who were wounded or hurt in any way,

to bring some measure of comfort

to the family members and friends of those who died or were wounded,

to strengthen the hands of the rescue workers, medical professionals and caregivers,

to both comfort and challenge a nation that has lost its way,

to provide some way forward when again innocent lives have been destroyed and changed forever.

I pray too for the soul of the shooter, as I must as a Christian,

as Christ loves and prays for me.

All this makes me inexpressibly sad, God.

But I know that the sadness I feel is your sadness.

It is the same sadness your son experienced and expressed

when he wept over the death of

his friend Lazarus.

I know that the sadness I feel is your sadness.

I am tired, God.

I’m tired of the unwillingness to see this as an important issue.

I am tired of those who prioritize their personal and political desires

over the lives of your children.

I’m tired of those in power who work to prevent any real change.

I’m tired of those who say that violence against our own citizens can’t be reduced as it is in other places.

All this makes me tired.

But I know that the tiredness I feel is your tiredness.

It’s the same tiredness that Jesus felt after his own struggles against injustice

that led him to fall asleep on the boat with his disciples, with nothing

and no one left to trust but you.

I am angry, God.

I’m angry at the seeming powerlessness of our community to prevent this.

I’m angry at the selfish financial interests who block change.

I’m angry that these shootings happen at all.

But I know that this anger is your anger

It’s the same anger Jesus felt when he overturned the tables in the Temple,

angry that anyone would be taken advantage of in any way.

Help me see in these feelings as the way that you move me to pray and to act.

Help me see in these emotions your own desire for change.

Help me see in these feelings your moving me to act.

Help me see in these reactions your pushing me to do something,

small or large.

Because I know this is the way you move people to action.

And I know that you desire action.

For Jesus did not stand by while people were being hurt.

He plunged into their lives.

So help me to answer these questions:

How can I help?

How can I fight against gun violence?

How can I urge my political leaders to enact change?

How can I help people understand that this is

an issue about life?

I am sad over the loss of life,

tired of excuses by so many who claim to value life,

and angry that we are paralyzed by the loss of life.

Turn my sadness into compassion, O God, please.

Turn my tiredness into advocacy.

Turn my sadness into compassion.

Turn my tiredness into action.

Turn my paralysis into the freedom to act.

Help me

to be compassionate,

to advocate

and to act,

and to trust that your Spirit of change and life is blowing, even now.

as your son did, Almighty and Reconciling God.

Amen.