Shepherds & Scapegoats:
A response to the tragedy at Virginia Tech
David Hansen
Third Sunday of Easter
April 22, 2007
John 21:15-19
Grace and peace to you in the name of our Risen Lord and Savior, Jesus the Christ.
Week after week I stand in front of this church, and share with you my thoughts on the Gospel message. Some weeks, it seems pretty clear what the Gospel means for our lives. Other weeks, it is harder to figure out exactly what God is saying to us.
This has been one of those harder weeks.
You know the news. You have been watching the same reports as I have since Monday afternoon. It has seemed as though each successive news break this week was more overwhelming – more hopeless – more tragic than the last.
A gunman – the troubled and disturbed Seung-Hui Cho – arrived on the Virginia Tech campus early on Monday morning, armed with guns he had bought about a month earlier. He opened fire in a residential section of campus, killing two people.
Then Cho took a break – about two hours – before he arrived in one of the classroom buildings and began opening fire at classrooms full of students. At the end of it all, 33 people including Cho himself were dead, and 29 were injured.
I’ll be honest with you: I’m not sure what to say about all this. There is no magic word that will make it all better. There is nothing that I can say that will cause this all to make sense – nothing that will make it seem less tragic and awful.
What I can do is share with you some of the rest of the story. It seems that, even on this dark day on the Virginia Tech campus, there were points of light. In the midst of this tragedy, stories are emerging about the sacrifices made by students and professors in order to save others around them.
One professor, an Israeli-American named Liviu Librescu, held the door to his classroom shut while the gunman was outside. Librescu died, but his students escaped out the window while their professor held the door.
Waleed Shaalan, a Muslim PhD student from Egypt, was wounded by some of the opening shots in his classroom. As the gunman went through the classroom, looking for signs of life, Shaalan drew his attention away from his fellow students, sparing their lives. He was shot a second time and died.
Partahi Lumbantoruan laid on top of another student, so that the gunman would not see that the wounded student was still alive. Partahi was killed, but the student under him survived.
Jocelyne Couture-Nowak, a professor of French, attempted to barricade the door to her classroom and get her students out of harm’s way. She and ten of her students died when the barricade proved unsuccessful.
It somehow makes things a little easier for us to know that there are these stories, stories of hope in the midst of this hopeless situation. And of course, there are others; some that we will hear in the weeks to come, some that we will never know.
You should be aware that the ELCA bishop of Virginia, James Mauney, whose offices are on the campus of Roanoke College, is coordinating a response from the Lutheran campus pastors of Tech and Lutheran Disaster Response. The Virginia Synod has brought together a team of pastors who are helping students and their families cope with this tragedy. Lutheran Disaster Response, and the campus ministries at places like Roanoke College and Virginia Tech, are some of the vital ministries whose primary funding comes from congregations like ours, and the money that we send to the synod as benevolence.
Some of you know my connection to that area of the country. I attended Roanoke College, a short forty-five minute drive – or maybe thirty minute for a college student with a lead foot – down the road from Tech.
A friend of mine in the area works for a local company that recruits new employees from Tech. She sent me a letter that is circulating in the area, an email sent from Professor Bryan Cloyd to his students. I would like to share that with you.
Dear Students,
My family's worst fears were confirmed a few hours ago. My daughter, Austin Michelle Cloyd, was one of the victims in Norris Hall. She would have been 19 years old next Tuesday. My family hurts deeply for the loss of our precious baby. We ask that you pray for us and for the rest of the Virginia Tech community that has suffered so greatly. At this point I don't know how or where our class will continue …
If we don't meet again, your final assignment from me is perhaps the most important lesson you will learn in life. Go to your mother, father, brothers and sisters and tell them with all your heart how much you love them. And tell them that you know how much they love you too. Go out of your way to make good memories …
May God bless you all,
Bryan
There are questions we could ask today.
What went wrong in the response from the campus police?
Who failed this troubled young man?
What is wrong with our educational system?
Are our gun laws too lax or too strict?
We like to look for scapegoats … someone to blame … someone or something to point our finger at. But as much as we ask those questions, they will not give us the comfort we are looking for. They will keep us busy for a while, but they cannot comfort us.
Following the resurrection, Jesus appeared to the Apostle Peter; Peter who had denied Christ and had run away on Good Friday. Peter, who had seen the hopelessness of that tragic and awful day.
And Jesus asked Peter a question.
He asked, “Do you love me?”
“Peter, having seen what you have seen – the hopelessness of Good Friday, and the light of the resurrection, do you love me?”
“Yes Lord, you know that I do” came the reply.
“Then tend my sheep.”
Tend my sheep. Care for them, provide for them. Look after one another, love one another. Whatever else may come, whatever else may happen, remember that: Tend my sheep.
Jesus wasn’t looking for a scapegoat – he surely had that in Peter if he wanted it. But he didn’t ask, did you run … did you deny me … were you afraid … did you give up hope? Instead, Jesus was looking for a shepherd. If comfort is to be found … if Jesus’ flock is to be cared for … then shepherds are needed.
What about you?
Having seen what you have seen –
The pain of Good Friday
The tragedy of this last week
The glory of Easter morning –
Do you, having seen what you have seen, love him?
Then tend the sheep.
Be the one who provides care and comfort …
Be the one who shows the love of Christ to the world …
Start close to home … caring for and loving your family both at home and here at Saint John …
Then branch out … reach out to those in need … those who are hurting … those who are lost …
In dark times such as these, we don’t need more blame, we don’t need scapegoats, we need shepherds. There – in the act of tending the sheep, caring for one another – will we find the comfort and the hope that we so desperately need right now.
Dear friends … Do you love Jesus?
Then tend his sheep.
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