In tragedy, America needs a church

Like everyone else, I was stunned at what I watched unfold as I began eating my dinner on Saturday night.

At first, I assumed the clip of former President Donald Trump ducking for cover was the product of artificial intelligence. How, in our day and with our security apparatus, could anyone conceivably shoot at a president? Then I saw the litany of social media posts ensue and knew something really was wrong.

You are not often in one of those “Where were you when?” moments. I looked at my oldest daughter and told her, “Take a mental snapshot of this moment. This is historic. Years from now, people are going to ask you where you were when someone tried to assassinate Donald Trump.”

The moment hit her.

It also hit the entire nation as we reeled from the news we were seeing. A former president, his ear grazed by a bullet that missed his skull by less than an inch. The rush of Secret Service agents lunging to the stage. A defiant Donald Trump rising from their protective pile, fist thrust at the sky, yelling, “Fight, fight, fight!” History frozen in a photo, instantly iconic.

Had the unimaginable alternative happened, we’d be waking up in a vastly different America. Amid all the cable news–watching, group text messages, and social media scrolling, an important truth comes to the forefront: In a tragedy, the nation needs a church.

No amount of scrolling can explain what needs explained in the moments of a morally fraught national trial. Only a church can do that.

In every national trial and tribulation, the American nation needs a church. As is our legacy, churches become institutions for moral reckoning and moral awakening. Find me a moment of national tragedy where churches were not outlets for solemnity and the regathering of our civic poise. You can’t. It is impossible to do so because the anchor of civic Christianity is so deeply embedded in the American experiment. After the 9/11 attacks, churches refilled to hear sermons that sought to make sense of what had transpired. Likewise, on Easter Sunday after Abraham Lincoln was assassinated, sermons at scores of churches throughout the nation focused on the tragedy that had occurred two days prior.

The attempt on Trump’s life occurred on Saturday. All over social media, I saw that pastors throughout the country were planning to say something in church on Sunday. My pastor did. For that, I am grateful. He prayed for those grieving and for unity and expressed gratitude for the lives that were spared, including President Trump’s. As my pastor led our congregation in prayer, he noted that the generic prayers many lean on in this moment are not the same as those Christians lean on. We lean on the name of Jesus Christ.

Individuals cannot bear tragedies in isolation. They—and we—need the church to speak clearly to make sense of the events unfolding. In moments of national fury, where can the country turn for sober-mindedness? The church. Moments such as this should drive a nation to its knees in collective reflection of who we are and who we should aspire to be. But more than any national reflection, they should cause us to lament and mourn the tragedy that is the fallenness of our nature.

In moments like this, secular platitudes are meaningless. All the sanitized secular aphorisms that we mindlessly rattle off are of no substance. “Sending you positive thoughts” or “positive vibes” mean nothing when a nation watches one of its former presidents duck actual bullets. “Vibes” and “thoughts” will get you nothing. Only the supervening grace of God can bring us back to reality and awaken us from our national malaise. We’re reminded that atheism cannot make sense of the surrealism of the moment. Atheism affords no meaning to an event, no meaning outside of moral meaningless costumed in abstraction. Tragedy and emergency have a way of peeling off secularism’s veneer of authority.

A pastor friend of mine, Josh Reavis, sent me his words from this morning. He said the following:

“As I reflected this morning, I was keenly aware that there are those in this room who as adults or children, watched your television in 1963 as the news of JFK’s assassination unfolded. Then you explained to your children in 1981 about the attempt on President Reagan’s life. And now your children explained to their children about last night’s attempt on former President Trump. Regardless of motivations or political party affiliations, these actions are unlawful, unacceptable, and un-American. There is no place for political violence in our world. This is not a political statement. It’s a pro-life statement. Whether it’s an unborn child in the womb of their mother or a president, no one has the right to take the life of one of God’s image-bearers. So, as Christians, we have a responsibility to condemn what happened, and we also have a responsibility to pray. We need to pray regularly for all our leaders—national, state, and local. We need to appeal to our King, the King of Kings, for protection, for wisdom, and for the salvation of their souls.”

Here’s what else hit me this morning: I fervently prayed for Donald Trump’s salvation in a way I never had before. It should not take an assassination attempt for me to do this. We are not promised tomorrow. We should always be prepared to meet our Creator. Donald Trump needs Christ. If you do not know Christ, you need Him, too. Who knows what may come in November? Tales of Donald Trump dodging a bullet in his bid to become our president again matter less than the renewed opportunity for Donald Trump’s soul to be saved by Christ. Ronald Reagan said the assassination attempt on his life awakened him to the reality that he needed God. So, we should pray the same happens for President Trump.

Where else can this message of hope and redemption come but from the church?