The New York Times has an article this week that got me thinking. Fight if you must, is the title. The young man in the picture with today’s blog is named Kendrick. He died this week, as he rushed the gunman in the Highlands Ranch shooting, which, according to the news accounts, resulted in many of his classmates being able to get out of harm’s way. Kendrick was 18, with his whole life ahead of him. The same New York Times article tells about a younger boy (12) who was in a closet as directed by his teacher, who found a baseball bat, and had it at the ready to attack the gunman if the situation presented itself.
I am a little stunned. It seems that the training we are giving kids and teachers as we prepare them for the possibility of a gunman attacking them, includes these options – Run if you can. Hide if you need to. And fight if you must.
Maybe this is not news to you, but I am still processing the idea that our young people are being prepared for life by learning math, history, and science, as well as practical rules for survival in a firefight. I am from the generation whose school days included fire drills, and nuclear attack drills – yes we hid under our desks when the world was on the edge of nuclear war. I am incredibly uneasy with the idea of our young people moving through their class day with watchful eyes, being ready for this kind of emergency if is comes. But maybe that’s just me and my rose colored glasses. I want school and childhood to be about discovery and blossoming – but that isn’t really the way I experienced it myself. Being young doesn’t insulate you from hardship, or fear. Neither does being old (I am finding out).
So, what does the story of Kendrick and the Highland Ranch shooting mean for me and for you, in context? I think it means that there are real sacrifces happening in our world today. Sacrifices that are making a difference to a community. Kendrick’s choice meant others escaped injury that day. I’ve been reading Acts 9 this week, getting ready for my Sunday sermon. It’s the story of Tabitha – a woman who sewed for those who needed clothes. She did what was needed in her community – and they mourned her untimely death – feeling the loss of her and her care. In Acts 9, Peter prays and Tabitha comes back to life. He’d seen Jesus do the same. I suppose he thought her community still needed her, and so he ministered to them in this way. To me the point of this story isn’t Peter’s miracle, but the overflowing gifts of Tabitha – gifts of love to those around her.
Kendrick’s gift of rushing the gunman this week is surely a gift of love. It’s one I am not comfortable with, though, I suppose because he was a child. And yet, don’t we all know about young soldiers who commit acts of heroism that saves their team at their own expense? So, is Kendrick a soldier on the battlefield that our schools have become? 
Today’s blog is not full of answers, my friends – instead, I suppose, there are questions. If our schools are battlefields, and our children are making courageous choices for themselves and others, what is the role of the rest of us – the adults who are supposed to be protecting them? I don’t know yet, but as of this week, reading Kendrick’s story, I have realized one thing – these young people are making adult choices. I’m going to start looking at them as short adults, because the warm glow of childhood seems to offer little warmth to them.
Join us Sunday at Holy Cross Lutheran at 1998 Lansing Ave NE, Salem, OR 97301. We wrestle with what God is calling us to do in this world every week. Worship is Sunday at 9:30 am. God bless you – Pastor Patricia+