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 when I watched my four-year-old son play outside as if there was no evil in the world.

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

And then came that feeling.

As a parent, I feel a feeling of uncertainty, incapability, and complete and utter helplessness, which usually only comes to the surface during times like these. 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 2008 and February 2011, respectively, we had our two sons baptized into Christ. They were 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, 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.

Although I am responsible for protecting you, I can’t save you. And this is both sobering and peaceful. But please know, you are my sons 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