Lament together, stand together

As we did following Columbine, and Sandy Hook, and Orlando, we stared at our screens and shook our heads, praying for the victims, praying for their families, and praying that the death toll would stop rising. As we did, the creeping feeling of helplessness was matched by another, more constructive feeling: The need to gather to grieve together.

Most religions have a tradition of lament, in which communities gather together to shoulder the heavy burden of grief. These can include prayer, song, ceremonial actions, and informal discussion. They almost always include shared food. Following tragic events, we become starkly aware that we are not meant to be alone. America prides itself on individualism, and Alaska even more so, but none of us is able to thrive in isolation. We mourn together, and we grieve in community. We are created that way. We have evolved that way. We belong to and with each other.

Following the shooting in Las Vegas, we again began our habitual national keening of sorrow and rage. Our process is fractured, reflecting the fractures in our nation in general, and our shared grief quickly turns to anger. But though it is fractured, we mustn't abandon it. On the contrary: Our broken communication could find restoration by sharing our grief together. In our times of darkest sadness, we expose our deepest humanity, and see the same in others.

[2 Alaskans killed, at least 1 wounded in mass shooting at Las Vegas music fest]

Reconciliation is frequently found at deathbeds and gravesides. The horrible events in Las Vegas can never be seen as anything but a tragedy, but what we do with that tragedy may yet provide a beacon of hope. We did not choose the violence, but we can choose our response.

In this moment of clarifying pain, let's take the opportunity to reach out to those we disagree with, work against, and vote against, and offer them consolation and support. The tradition of lament directs us to stand together in our pain, binding us in ways that are beyond policy and partisanship. It lays a foundation of humanity upon which bridges may be built. "Those people" who oppose the legislation you desire? They too are heartbroken.

From our shared sorrow, we can reach out to our elected officials. Thoughts and prayers are good, and I commend our congressional delegates and our governor for sending them to the victims and their families. But that is only one of many steps. There's a lot of room for disagreement on what the causes are, and what steps we should take to prevent the next shooting, which statistically is due in just a matter of days. But there is no room for inaction.

[Thousands fled the hail of gunfire in Las Vegas. These people stayed to try to save lives]

Lament can mean different things to different people. For some it is simply an expression of emotion. For others it is cathartic – a venting of that which cannot be held inside. But if we are to grow as a nation, we must embrace shared lament for its other purposes. We must lament together to heal, not just ourselves as individuals, but to heal the wounded relationships in our nation.

And we also must lament together to spur us on to shared action. We lament together not only to acknowledge the horror that is present in this world, but also to accept our responsibility to end it.

Rev. Matt Schultz is pastor of First Presbyterian Church in Anchorage.

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