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| | Sympathy for the Devil
edited on April 18, 2007 at 5:34 PM
People are trying to find answers and meaning behind the worst mass shooting in US history. Details are scarce about the “eccentric loner” that murdered 32 people before taking his own life. The note that Seung-Hui Cho left behind in his dorm was a laundry list of grievances, with rich kids and religion topping that list. Much of what’s on the news has been speculation or fragments of truth.
We all want details. We all want to know why.
The usual suspects are being cited: violent video games, troubled domestic life, and depression. Perhaps by pinpointing an outside cause, we can satisfy our desire to quantify our problems and eliminate the attending sources. The other option is to demonize a figure, emphasizing any aberrations and anomalies in an effort to distance ourselves as far as possible from such a monster.
This was no crime of passion, judging by the staggering human toll. The emerging details point to someone that was unflinching and remorseless. By all appearances, this was mechanical extermination, not an emotionally fueled act of anger. What kind of person would be capable of this?
I’ve been trying to piece together an explanation based on anything I could gather from the news. There are facsimiles of the bizarre and violent plays Seung-Hui Cho wrote in college, which peers and former teachers cited as warning signs. There are anecdotal accounts from high-school friends, saying Seung-Hui Cho was an avid Counterstrike player.
Based on family and life details, one could conclude that maybe Seung-Hui Cho suffered from feelings of inadequacy and failure. He had an older sister that attended Princeton. He was 23 years old and still an undergrad. For those of us that are Korean, issues of cultural expectation come to mind. Can the question of motive really be answered by adding variables like this together? Can a sympathetic face ever be put on a person who so methodically and efficiently destroyed 33 human lives?
There are no cut-and-dry answers, but the observation I found most striking was that it could have been anyone.
It could have been me.
I was 12 years old. My parents had gone through a long, bitter, and violent period of separation and divorce. Everything I had known and taken for granted was tossed to the wind as my dad, my brother, and I loaded up everything we had into a van and lived as homeless nomads until settling in Atlanta.
I was not the picture of well-adjustment.
School was an ordeal of self-imposed isolation and alienation. There were a few friends made, to be fair, but only skin deep, to be honest. I rarely spoke and shunned social interaction religiously. I never ate lunch all throughout high school, preferring the quiet confines of the library and my mind rather than the bustling scene of a cafeteria.
My artistic and literary output at the time would have been a case study in juvenile pathology. I wrote a novella when I was 15 called “Shard of Glass.” The story followed a troubled young man who killed his abusive father and proceeded to exact bloody, methodical revenge on those whom he hated at school. The story ended with a climactic and suicidal plunge from a bridge, the young man shot to death by law enforcement officers, with the titular weapon in his hand. It was illustrated, too.
To be objective, it made “Richard McBeef” and “Mr. Brownstone” look innocuous by comparison.
One incident prompted my 9th grade science teacher to lecture on the importance of believing in Jesus as Lord and Savior—in a classroom, no less. We had created a timeline of the Earth’s geological and evolutionary development. Mine started with a giant pentagram with letters written in vivid red, “Satan created the Earth 4600 million years BC.” Unfortunately, I wasn’t there to hear my science teacher’s undoubtedly unconstitutional plea—I had already moved to another school.
Contemplating suicide was a common pasttime. Do I jump out the picture window during dinner in the hope that I would sever a major artery and be killed by the fall? Would ingesting a bottle of shampoo be enough? Would anyone even care?
Those that knew me can attest to expressing a great deal of concern about my well-being. There have been teachers and professors who’ve shown various levels of alarm and compassion for that reclusive young man. Friends from college have told their mothers that they’re afraid of a boy who might shoot the whole class. I’m sure many of them are secretly relieved now.
It could have been me. But it wasn’t.
If you search through sites like Facebook, numerous groups have been created with names like: Cho Seung-Hui does not represent Koreans, Cho Seung-Hui is pure evil, and Cho Seung-Hui is a coward and will rot in hell!
There’s a lot of anger and grief and bewilderment over what happened. People cannot fathom how a person could commit such a profound act of destruction. I don’t have any more answers than the next person, but instead of confusion and anger I’m left with an uncomfortable feeling of familiarity. More than being too close to home, it feels too close to my own face, like looking in a mirror.
News sources have cited that Seung-Hui Cho mentioned the failings of religion as to blame for what he did. I can’t help but think if he only knew what I know. My 9th grade science teacher would have been happy to know I came to believe in Jesus.
It’s no trite or cliché thing for me to say that knowing Jesus as Lord and Savior was what rescued me from death. It could have made a difference in Seung-Hui Cho’s life, too, if he believed. I wish to God someone like me could have told someone like him about the Gospel.
Thirty-two innocent people died in a senseless and terrible way. One other person died in a similar and senseless and terrible way. And hundreds more will suffer in the aftermath of what that one person did on April 16, 2007. I don’t think anyone can say what is the greater tragedy.
I can say that there was a young man that had a profound emptiness and hopelessness in his life. And I know he wasn’t alone, and that there will be no shortage of those like him. I was one of them. What can we do for those that remain ignored and unreached?
The cure for this suffering isn’t political action, changes in legislation, improved response time by law enforcement, public apologies, psychological screening, or anything else we can come up with as a society.
The only cure for this suffering is a result of what someone else did 2,000 years ago, something that was beyond our reach but was made known to us through grace and mercy and love.
Some may object and ask, “Where was God when all this happened?” If there is no God, then what happened was truly senseless and meaningless and nothing can ever stop it from happening again. We would be a people without hope, relegated to despair and death without any purpose. It would be a world where April 16, 2007 makes perfect sense.
If there is a God, but he couldn’t stop what happened, the end is the same. How could we be certain that a God that has no control over human events can do anything at all? For all we know, God couldn’t do anything about his son being murdered on the cross except put a positive spin on the story. There would be no lasting hope, only the unrelenting grip of despair.
But there is a God whose power can overcome even the most horrific and senseless of human tragedies, even using them for his purposes for the good of those that love him. Jeremiah 28:11 says, “‘For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”
God has not abandoned those promises but keeps them even today. And it is a God that has remained true to those promises that saved me from destruction.
There’s been much backlash about people using the Virginia Tech shootings as a hobby-horse for a political agenda. This isn’t a political statement. Lasting peace, restoration, and healing can only come through the Gospel. People are open to disagree, but I stake my life as testimony to the truth and power of what God has done.
If there ever was a time when people needed prayer, it’s now. If there was ever a time that people needed the good news of Jesus the Christ, it’s now.
Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. - Jeremiah 28:12-13
| | | Posted 4/18/2007 2:29 AM - 10 comments
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