― C.S. Lewis
I've mostly avoided social media this week, because the unremitting deluge of posts from people declaring their grief and sorrow swiftly becomes too much for me. It's not that I begrudge people an outlet for their feelings- no doubt magnified by the fact that so many of them are at home with no connections except through social media- but there's a point where some of the maudlin outpourings become almost ... unseemly, performative. This probably sounds judgemental, and maybe my Anglo Saxon Protestant distaste for scenes in public plays into my discomfort, but I truly don't mean it that way. It's just seems that the people who are emoting the most online aren't even peripherally involved, and it feels almost disrespectful to the families of the victims to be sucking up attention like that. And that was definitely a judgement of peoples' motives, so I'll backtrack by saying that perhaps some people need that very public outlet for their emotions. It's just not for me. I couldn't even make it through the online vigil the other night; the minute Justin Trudeau appeared on the screen I shut it off. Because his whole career has been performative fakery and faux emotion and frankly, I just can't take it- especially now.
My heart aches for the victims and their families, but what can be said that hasn't been said thousands of times before? The reason why so many statements, however sincerely meant, sound trite and cliched is because they are; tragedies and violent crimes have been occurring since the dawn of time... what response can we make to them that isn't hackneyed? And yet, perhaps there is comfort to be found in the very familiarity and rote nature of these expressions of sympathy and grief. They provide us with a familiar script in the face of a vicious outrage which would otherwise render us clumsily inarticulate.
I've often been sad this week, but almost as often I've been angry, and I'm aware that this is a flaw of mine: to deal with excessive emotion by taking refuge in anger. First, I have a deep, abiding rage for the vile creature who perpetrated this terrible act. I feel nothing but satisfaction that the police ended his miserable life by perforating him with bullets. Frankly, I would have been fine with it if they had kicked his worthless carcass into a ditch somewhere and left it as carrion for the crows and coyotes. Not my finest moment as a Christian, I know.
I also have a level of anger for those who use this tragedy to push their personal agendas and pet ideologies. Prime Minister Trudeau for example, didn't even have the basic human decency to wait until the bodies were cold before getting in front of a mic and shilling for his pet project, further gun control. Never mind the fact that, due to a previous conviction for assault, it was already illegal for the man to own a gun. It seems that violent murderers don't much care about abiding by the law- imagine that. But then, Trudeau has never been one to let facts get in the way of narrative. I also saw an article that some feminist had posted about how mass murder was based in misogyny, ignoring the fact that this monster killed both men and women, seemingly at random as opportunity presented itself. But why let a crisis go to waste, even if you have to figuratively spit on the bodies of the dead to do it. This is another reason I avoided social media for the majority of the week... I just would have been angry all of the time.
I have less anger- and more understanding- for those who seize on the ideas pushed by opportunists at times like this as a sort of lifeline. I think it's easier for people if they can can blame something- like guns- or some ideology for what happened. Because if there was no identifiable reason behind the murderer's rampage, if these people were killed at random for no other reason than they were there, then it could have happened to anyone, and that is a fearful thought. It would be comforting to think for example that, if only no one could own a gun, nothing like this would ever happen. But this is a lie people tell themselves to avoid the truth that we have little control over tragedy. Behind the very real sympathy and sorrow we have for the victims lurks the fear that it could have been us, or our loved ones. It's easier to look for a way to assuage that fear rather than face the unpalatable truth of our own vulnerability to pain and death.
"How could this happen here?" some people ask plaintively. Well, why would it not? There are violent, evil people the world over and we are not immune. Rather, we're fortunate to live in a place where such deeds occur so rarely that they shock us to our core. We Christians start out with a belief in the total depravity of man, so while we are shaken and grieving, we cannot be surprised that this could happen, and that it could happen here as well as anywhere else.
This has been a rather dark, rambling post, and perhaps I should have written something more comforting and uplifting. Certainly there have been many acts of kindness done in the wake of the events of last weekend, with people reaching out to help in any way they can. There have also been genuine messages of caring and support pouring in from a lot of people across the country and around the world. At work one day this week, I was on a call with someone in Edmonton who, originally from Nova Scotia, choked up as she tried to express her sympathy; I ended up comforting her.
On Friday across Canada, people paused at 2 pm for two minutes of silence for the victims. Unable to gather together, many stood quietly at the end of their driveways. One of my sisters knew that she wouldn't be able to get her two youngest to be still unless she made some sort of explanation to them, something she hadn't done up until then. So she sat them down and told them briefly what had happened; my six year old nephew asked worriedly if it had been Grandma and Grandad who were shot. My sister said no, but it had been other peoples' grandmothers and grandfathers and mums and dads. He then wanted to kill the bad guy... she assured him that the police had already done that. She also told them that a police officer- a mother of two- had been killed. That's what got to my four year old niece:
"Shh! Guys! Somebody's mom died!" It seems to me that these two grasped the fundamental points of this tragedy: the bad guy needed to be dead, and the people he killed were someone's parents and grandparents, brothers and sisters- and could just as easily have been ours. If, as the events of the past week fade into memory, we can hold on to one thought, it should be that life is fragile and fleeting, and we should treasure every moment we have with those we love.
“Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away.”- James 4:14