The shooting death of Trayvon Martin has grown into a national discussion.  In this Holy Week, a re-read of the biblical record gives us cause to ponder another unjust death.  With the background of the Trayvon Martin case, I’ve become further aware of the injustice bestowed on the first century Teacher from Galilee.   

     The death of Trayvon Martin has rekindled national debates about racism, stereotypes, and profiling.  At the heart of the emotion and outrage is a deep sense of injustice.  

     It is remarkable that there was no petition for justice in the case of Jesus of Nazareth.   No protestor proclaiming, “No justice, no peace.”  Nothing like the “I am Trayvon Martin” t-shirt.  The gospel writers clearly underscore Jesus’ innocence, but absolutely no one stands up for him.  Neither did the early Christians protest.  Instead they actually celebrated the injustice.  The very “logo” of Christianity is the device by which Jesus was unjustly executed.     

     The death of Trayvon has permeated the news media cycle.  Family and friends say, “We will not forget.”  But as is typical with tragic events, they slowly dissipate from memory.  The 24-hour news cycle grabs the next tragedy. 

     It is remarkable that news of the cross event has not gone away.  Not only has Jesus “not been forgotten,” but he has advanced into the very lives and activity of his followers for 2,000 years.  He is not only a memory, but a “living present,” and “future.” 

     The death of Trayvon has vilified the shooter, George Zimmerman.  Rightly or wrongly, he is clearly the national “bad guy.”

     It is remarkable that Jesus dies for the “bad guys” and villains.  For the thief on his periphery.  For his executors as he says, “Father, forgive them.” 

     What we have in the case of this first century Jew is nothing short of remarkable.  No news media outlet could have spun this story.  Maybe there is a divine author after all.    

     There has been a fierce debate during the last couple months over the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services’ (HHS) recent decision to require nearly all private health plans, including those offered by religious employers, to cover contraceptives.  Our church body’s president offered a helpful response on February 16th before the House Oversight Committee. 

      Amidst the firestorm, I need not say anything new.  But I make an observation.  And I propose that for Christians we re-frame the discussion.  It appears the primary thrust of the debate is about rights.  It’s “women’s rights” versus “religious rights.”  The House Oversight Committee’s hearing was titled as much:  “Lines Crossed: Separation of Church and State. Has the Obama Administration Trampled on Freedom of Religion and Freedom of Conscience?”  Whether women or religious people, it seems everyone feels their rights are being trampled on. 

    As for women’s rights, I happen to be for them.  I just don’t think that it’s anyone’s inalienable right to be given free contraception.  Nor do I believe it’s anyone’s right - male or female - to dispose of human life.  I am a proponent of women getting paid equally and being respected in society.  I want to stand up to unfair discrimination.

     On the other side, religious leaders have made the debate about religious rights.  I don’t disagree.  But for some reason, the Christian response sounds more like shrill whining.  While I do believe there is government intrusiveness here, I’m not overly concerned about my rights as a Christian.  I’m really more concerned about the rights of children.  It’s really about kids – having them or not having them, caring for them or disposing of them. 

     And this is where I believe that followers of Jesus have an opportunity to humbly change the conversation.  Let’s move beyond political calls for religious freedom.  This isn’t about “my rights as a Christian.”  I’m doing pretty well compared to Christians in Nigeria and Iran.  Instead, this is about Christians working for the rights of others.  What does it really mean to care for women?  What can we proactively do to advance the rights of children - stand for orphans, stop child abuse, work for education reform, etc.

    A fundamental component of following Jesus is the Great Commandment, to love God and love my neighbor as myself (Matt. 22:37-39).  Jesus says, “Love one another just as I have loved you.”  This is a self-giving love that gives up rights for the sake of others.  It’s a risky, dangerous, and often uncomfortable love.  To love others in the way of Christ means I’m prepared to have my rights trampled on.  Jesus lived in a land that was under Roman occupation.  His goal was bigger than religious freedom.  It was to love sacrificially, giving up his rights for others.  It was this love that got him killed.  I find that the conversation changes when I’m not defensive of my own rights, but rather fierce for the rights of others. 

     Those of us in St. Louis are currently wrestling with the death of a 13-month-old boy.  He went missing yesterday, and his body was found, unclothed, in a nearby cemetery.  With the crime scene a couple miles from our home, I watched 3 helicopters as I held my children, including my own 13-month-old.  The mother has been arrested, and a community in shock awaits further details.

     Last week, the Penn State scandal dominated the headlines.  A highly regarded defensive coordinator is alleged to have abused numerous boys over the course of years, even using his own charity for access.  He maintains his innocence, but admits showering with boys and "horsing around." 

     Children are among society's most vulnerable, which is why they can be so easily abused.  Child abuse takes on many forms in our current culture as children are degraded, forgotten, and ignored.  Much could be written on actual child abuse – physical, verbal, and sexual.  But I’d like to focus on some more subtle forms.  And I’m afraid that such forms have become common in our current culture.

      Children are born and then forgotten.  Some adults are so engrossed in their careers or personal hobbies that they abuse their kids by neglect.  I’m not talking gross negligence like withholding food or shelter.  There are laws that punish that kind of abuse.  This kind of neglect does not carry a legal consequence.

     Many parents balk when they realize the sacrifices necessary for children.  They rely on baby sitters, not only to watch their kids, but to raise them.  Nannies, daycare, TV, and video games become “outs.”  They never eat dinner together.  When evening comes there is no help with homework or inquisition about the day.  Only the flicker of television light in every room, as each individual retreats to their own space.  This kind of abuse denies sacrificial love, and ensures that the parents can go on living pre-child lives.  Children become nuisances instead of people.

      Children are born and then idolized.  Many parents have kids and then live out their idolatrous desires through them.  Such parents are too weak or lazy to discipline or they are philosophically opposed to hard boundaries.  Such children are pampered and coddled.  When children are idolized, they are believed to be innocent.  “How could Johnny ever do anything wrong?  I’m sure he didn’t mean to.”  (They should read Psalm 51:5).  In these households the children rule, not the parents (They should read the fourth commandment). 

    Another sign of this particular abuse is parents who find meaning and status in their child’s achievements.  (Remember the dad screaming during the whole game from the bleachers?)  Essentially, they live out their desires through the child.  David Brook’s book On Paradise Drive describes “the professionalization of childhood.”  Tim Keller comments on Brooks’ observations:  “From the earliest years, an alliance of parents and schools creates a pressure cooker of competition, designed to produce students who excel in everything.  Brooks calls this a “massive organic apparatus, a mighty Achievatron.”  The family is no longer a haven in a heartless world . . .  Instead, the family has become the nursery where the craving for success is first cultivated.” 

Children are not born at all.  I’m not referring to abortion.  That’s another article.   I’m referring to the delay if not refusal to have children.  What was once 2.5 children is now less than 2.  One or two children is more manageable, fiscally responsible, and convenient. 

    I want to be very careful here.  I am not advocating irresponsibility when it comes to child-bearing.  And this not an indictment against couples with no children.  There are factors to be considered.   Yet there must be careful reflection when people say, “I don’t want to bring a child into this dangerous world.”  Is fear the determining factor?  “We want to wait until we’re at a good place financially.”  Is money the determining factor?  “We want to spend time doing what we want to do before having kids.”  I am for this, but I have also seen couples married for ten years, and spending inordinate amounts of money on themselves. 

     In a culture of power, success, and individualism, children are often seen as liabilities and annoyances.  When children are abused, especially in subtle ways, our world grows darker. Along with the handicapped, the poor, immigrants, and widows, children are given special attention in Scripture, even though they may not have it in the world.   Jesus picked up a child and declared that the characteristics of children will be found in the kingdom of heaven (Matt. 18:3,4).  Scripture consistently refers to us as children (Jn. 1:12; Eph. 5;1).  The world always overlooks, abandons, and abuses the lowest and weakest.  But Jesus calls them “blessed” and residents of the Kingdom of God (Matt. 5:3). 

     Children cause us to sacrifice.  They demand an excess of patience.   Their cumbersome mobility cause us to slow down.  Their constant need shows us their complete dependence on us.  The frailty of their lives, their tantrums and outbursts, all show us the depth of meaning inherent in the word mercy.    Such things belong to the Kingdom of God.

As a way of generating pure, unalloyed terror, this was demonically perfect . . . I was immobilized watching a live, instantaneous mass death . . . I was, like most of us, simply terrorized.  And it's only now, a decade later, that I've come to see how significant that feeling was, how transformative it would become. 

     A couple days removed from the 9/11 anniversary, I reflect.  The above quote is from an article by Andrew Sullivan in the Sept. 12th issue of Newsweek.  Ten years have allowed the words "terror" and "terrorism" to become commonplace.  The word has even lost a bit of its . . . terror.  Fear and uncertainty have become the "new normal."  We come to expect long airport security lines and invasive TSA searches.  We are nearly numb to death reports from Iraq or Afghanistan.  In the days after 9/11, the media collectively agreed not to show gruesome images of the planes crashing.  Now we've seen montages of all the footage, along with bodies falling from the towers. 

     All of this is to say that we have effectively been terrorized.  We are a resilient country, yet we cannot deny that this event has changed us.  Sullivan notes that 10 years of distance from the event has revealed how "transformative" it has become.  Modern terrorism has done for my generation what World Wars and Great Depressions did for others.  If we didn't know it before, we know it now.  Life is fragile.  Evil is real.  Our time uncertain.  Peace is not a given.  Humans are incredibly vulnerable creatures. 

     There is a mantra found throughout the Biblical text that is particularly appropriate for a terrorized people.  "Fear not."  (Josh. 1:9; Judges 6:23; Isaiah 41:10; Matthew 28:5,10; Luke 1:13, 30, 2:10, 5:10; Revelation 1:17).  Whether voiced by an angel or Jesus himself, "Fear not" is a repetitive chorus of counter-terrorism found from the Old to the New Testament. 

     Are we safer 10 years later?  That's up for debate.  But this simple statement was not given to people who felt safe.  God spoke "Fear not," to Joshua and Gideon on the brink of war.  Angels spoke it to mournful women at the tomb and trembling men in a field at night.  "Fear not" is precisely for those who are in a moment of terror.  It doesn't answer "Why?"  It doesn't offer a neatly packaged answer.  It is a phrase that simply begs you to trust the One who speaks it.