In the wake of the shootings in Buffalo, NY, Uvalde, TX, and several other places just ahead of the NRA Convention in Houston, the debates over the place of firearms in US society are raging again with two mutually exclusive “never-give-up!” positions. One side pleading for legal action for controls to limit such recent tragic events. The other side counters with various versions of “guns-are-not-the-problem: people-are” or “we don’t have a gun problem, we have a heart problem.” An assortment of explanations are suggested as to what caused so many people to be problems or have heart problems: mental illness, lack of parental discipline, liberal or “woke” public educators (or politicians or courts), violent video games, absence of prayer in public school, lenient police and judges, disrespect for authority, not enough “good guys with guns” to take out the “bad guys with guns” (reverting to the wild west that whoever has the fastest draw is the law), and even dismissing the significance of guns by asserting that other means can also be fatal. Not only are people looking for ways to control firearms feeling a frustration of an attitude that nothing can be done, but I am even seeing gun rights advocated promoting that and suggesting that deaths by firearms are inevitable and trying to reduce them is futile and foolish.
My impression is that everyone is shouting and no one is listening. We are not witnessing a dialog seeking solutions together, or even a debate. To be up front, I am one who favors taking legal action, but I have no illusions that laws or even consistent enforcement will prevent all future firearms tragedies (not just mass shootings, but street crime, arguments and crimes of passion, suicides, and accidents). But I do believe we can do better than we have been doing. Would better mental health services be helpful? Probably, but that only addresses a portion of the problem.
For some time I have been suggesting that a radical change in the social consensus on this and other issues (such as sexual assult and harassment). But I have no illusion that is likely, and I certainly have no leverage to begin a movement in that direction. Nevertheless, I feel a certain compulsion to express what I mean for my own peace of mind. If this sort of thinking began to be explored, I think meaningful dialog and progress might actually be possible.
What I am suggesting is that firearms per se are not actually the problem. Rather, the problem seems to me to be the meaning we attach to firearms. At the very top of the list is recognizing that firearms represent virile masculinity, power, and dominance. (In that sense they share a lot of common roots with sexual assualt and harassment, so in my mind they are related.)
Firearms are also expressions of fear of ambiguous threats: anonymous strangers who evoke discomfort, crime in the form of bodily harm or theft, oppressive government interference. For many years in a variety of settings I have taught that the opposite of fear is not courage but love. As 1 John 4:18 says “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.” Determining how to face our fears with love is challenging indeed. Perhaps one of Jesus’ toughest teachings was, “Love your enemies.” (Matthew 5:44; Luke 6:27,35). I believe this is consistent with Romans 14:23, “Whatever does not proceed from faith is sin.” Yes, this sort of thinking is not understood or accepted by those outside of Christ, but I believe that we who are in Christ have both opportunity and responsibility to demonstrate and call for a different way to live.
Firearms also are a false sense of security. In my circle of family and friends I have known people who were shot by accident: by a friend, neighbor, or family member: who committed suicide (much higher “success” rate than other methods). But I know of no one who shot an intruder or attacker. I won’t try to dig out the statistics (which get configured in confusing and even deceptive ways), but I am aware that there is considerable evidence that a handgun in the home is more likely to be discharged on a family member, friend or neighbor than on an intruder. To me, when firearms are signs of security, it signals a misplaced faith, as Psalm 146:3 warns. “Do not put your trust in princes, in mortals, in whom there is no help.”
I do not regard all firearms as evil and have no specific problem with sport shooting or hunting or even ethical, authorized use in law enforcement (I do have other concerns about the military, but exploring that would be a distraction from this thinking). I would even allow that a rancher controlling feral hogs might well use something like an AR-15, but I have a hard time imagining a legitimate use by an ordinary citizen. I mention these things to be clear that I am not advocating confiscation of firearms or maligning the reputations of all, most, or even many gun owners.
What I long for is an honest dialog about what guns mean to us and how to shape those understandings in healthy ways. I am not accusing any one person of attaching these meanings to firearms, but suggest they are embedded in our social consensus. How can we work together to reduce the tragedies that seem to be on the increase? To put it in a single illustrative seed for thought: how can we help men (especially) who feel alone, threatened, weak, and angry find better ways to affirm their identities and confidence than through firearms - whether the thrill of a blast at a shooting range or massacring people as targets of his sense of inadequacy? This is just a starter question.
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