Paris, Death, and Uncertainty

It has been one week since evil raised its head in Paris.

One week.

One week of news reports about those who carried out these attacks. One week of wondering how this could happen again. One week of speculating what and who is next.

There was a moment last Saturday afternoon, less than 24 hours from the time the first bullets flew and the first bombs detonated, that I watched my four year old son play outside as if there was no evil in the world.

He played with such intensity. He played with such vigor. He played as if death did not show its head less than 4 hours away in a city we had recently visited.

And then came that feeling.

A feeling that is always present as a parent but usually only comes to the surface during times like these. The feeling of uncertainty. The feeling of incapability. The feeling of complete and utter helplessness.

For we do our best to protect our children from danger and harm’s way, rightly so, but ultimately we know that we can’t save them from death.

We can’t save them.

Our countries can’t drop enough bombs.  Our security can’t screen enough people.  I am not saying that these things aren’t necessary. I’m saying that they can’t save our children from death as much as vitamins and medicines ultimately can’t as well.

And this is the feeling for a parent that is so unsettling during these times of such extreme horror and evil.

In February of 2008 and February of 2011 respectively, we had our two sons baptized into Christ. Baptized into the One who took on the evil of the world and destroyed it. The One who waged war against death and came out victorious. And now is the One who sits at the right hand of the Father for eternity.

This is the hope that I live in. This is the faith that I cling to.

And it is within this hope and faith that I say to my boys in light of the presence of such evil…play on.

Play with intensity. Play with vigor. Play with life.

For although I have a responsibility to protect you, I can’t save you. And this is both sobering and peaceful.

But please know, you are my sons who are baptized into the Spirit of adoption. Adoption into the Kingdom that reigns well beyond the horrors and evil of this world.

And this is what gives me peace.

For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you received a spirit of adoption, through which we cry, “Abba, Father!”

-Rom 8:15