When good, rational people try to make sense of the evil, irrational actions of others, they risk losing their own goodness. Endless finger-pointing can send good folk into a costly, fear-driven spin. When this happens, good people often make the mistake of trading precious assets like love, peace, and hope for things of lesser value. And in this way, evil takes root and spreads. Distrust fuels further distrust; evil fuels evil; tragedy fuels tragedy.
Just last week, three days after the Bondi tragedy, I stood before a hall of 150 aged-care residents, family members, and staff at a Christmas carol event. As a chaplain, I am often asked to open these gatherings in prayer and with an Acknowledgement of Country. I often begin my prayer by thanking God that we live in a safe and free country where we can gather, worship, and celebrate together.
“Thank you, God, that we live in a safe and free country…”
The prayer spilled out of my mouth, as it has for decades. For the first time, I felt my breath retract and my stomach drop. A sense of terror has never followed these prayerful words of gratitude. I finished my duties and the celebrations continued. Afterwards, I chatted with a couple of colleagues, and one asked whether I had prayed that part about safety intentionally. I explained that it was a default opening, and that countless Christians begin public prayer with very similar words. But now, I doubted and questioned my thanksgiving.
For me, trying to make rational sense of the kind of evil that tore through Bondi on the 14th of December is a futile exercise. Evil, of all kinds, destroys lives daily – not always in the form of mass shootings, but certainly in many other violent ways.
Stating the prevalence of evil does not normalise, excuse, or minimise its impact. Nor does it mean we should simply mourn, grieve, bury the dead, and carry on as though nothing happened. Something did happen – something evil, irrational, and deeply disruptive. By no means should we respond with inaction or passivity. Justice and accountability must be considered and actioned. Responsible parties must be held to account. Ethnoreligious people groups deserve safety from those empowered to offer it. That said, I am concerned by the many forms of scapegoating (unfair, reactive blaming) I see and hear across mainstream and social media.
Philosopher René Girard, known for his illuminating work on scapegoating, explained that people’s rational impulse to oppose evil can become the very mechanism by which evil spreads. In this way, good people end up imitating forms of evil and become unaware participants in the very cycle they are trying to stop. Girard proposed that the only way to break this violent cycle is to: recognise scapegoating at work in acts of violence; refuse to imitate that violence; stand with the victims; and disrupt the cycle through the (irrational) act of forgiveness.
Today, I am thinking about how close the Bondi event is to Christmas. I am thinking about how Girard and other thinkers saw Christ break the scapegoating cycle through His life, death, and resurrection. I am thinking about how Jesus was scapegoated by the religious and political powers of his day – an innocent child who, in his thirties, bore the brunt of collective frustration, hatred, and blame all the way to death – only to declare forgiveness and grace in his dying breaths and, days later, rise from the dead; not with vengeance, not with retribution, not even in hatred of those who killed him, but with a message of forgiveness, love, restoration and non-violence.
This Christmas season may not mean a great deal to my Jewish, Hindu and Muslim brothers and sisters. I respect that. Christmas may not mean much to millions of non-religious folk who will not spare a thought for Christ, mentioning his name only in cursing or the occasional Christmas carol. I respect that too. But to me, and many others, this sombre and sultry Australian Christmas reminds us that in moments of irrational evil, God invites us to give the irrational gift of forgiveness to those who sin against us, and to continue in prayer, as Jesus taught: “Deliver us from evil.” Not only the evil done to us by others, but also the evil we are all capable of imitating and fuelling in moments we feel threatened and fearful.
I could say more, but instead I offer you this benediction today:
May those in mourning mourn for as long as they need, knowing that God mourns with them.
May those grieving grieve for as long as they need, lest their loss become a grievance.
May those wanting to forgive, find eventual strength to do so, in God and others.
May we all refuse to scapegoat others without first examining our own hearts, motives, and outcomes.
And
May God grant us all a safe and peaceful Christmas, and may we continue to offer safety and peace to those around us.
David Tensen