After the Bend School Shooting: Why We Pray
This past week, we lost precious souls when a school shooting at Silver Rail Elementary School in Bend, Oregon, took the lives of three children and a teacher. Other students and staff were injured, and two uninjured heroes, a parent and a staff member have mental and emotional wounds that won’t be quick to heal. Bend families are grieving and a school community is trying to find peace after what happened.
This senseless tragedy hits hard at Faith on Hill because we are a church of school people. We have students, teachers, bus drivers, learning specialists, and spouses of educators in our church at all grade levels. We host a school in our building. We care deeply about the students and staff who walk into school buildings every day.
We also see how the sins of violence, hatred, and malice are destroying lives. What happened in Bend breaks our hearts. I believe it breaks the heart of Jesus, too.
As school shootings have become far too common in our country, there has been a growing push back against “thoughts and prayers.” We see people Christian and non-Christian alike posting “Pray For Bend” or “sending all my thoughts to Silver Rail”. I understand the frustration. In the Bible, a guy named James writes about people who see someone without food or clothing, say something like “Go in peace,” and do nothing to help. What good is that? he asks (James 2:15–17). Many see the posts about sending prayers and remember the last school shooting and seeing the same posts, sometimes LITERALLY the same post. What good is that?
The same question should challenge us now. It is possible to be shocked by the scenes coming out of Bend, offer a few sympathetic words, and then do nothing tangible to make things better. Christians especially should be willing to examine ourselves honestly on that point. Psalm 139:23-24 shows us how self-reflection and openness to change is a strong tenet in our faith.
But I don’t think prayer has to be empty or wasted. Thursday also offered a picture of what it looks like when a church opens its doors in a moment of need. Journey Church in Bend served as a place where families were reunited with their students. Journey is a great church with a connection to us through our sister church in Bend and the Pacific Conference, the family of churches of which Faith on Hill is a part. I think of the parents arriving there in shock and fear, and I am grateful there was a place ready to receive them. I am grateful for the Christians there who offered their presence, care, and prayers.
In my own shock and grief, I was drawn to prayer.
The Bible is full of prayers that begin in pain instead of certainty. The writer of Psalm 13 asks God, “How long?” will these things go on. The prophet Habakkuk cries out to God about violence and wonders why it continues (Habakkuk 1:2–3)? Jesus himself prayed in anguish in the garden before his arrest (Matthew 26:38–39). God does not ask us to hide our fear, anger, doubt, or sorrow. The Bible gives us words for bringing those things to him.
Many of us came into school buildings Friday with a heaviness we did not carry the day before. Some of us felt more cautious. Some of us felt afraid. We can bring that fear to the God who hears us. We can pray for the families in Bend, for the injured, and for every student and school employee who now has to carry this day with them.
Someone might say, “That’s all well and good, but it’s meaningless until something changes.” I understand that, too. I have questions for the people we elect in Salem. What more will they do to address Oregon’s mental health needs? How will they better support our schools and the people working in them? Those are fair questions, and people of faith can ask them, speak up, and work toward change.
I cannot control what happens in Salem. I can care for the students and educators around me. I can refuse to let this tragedy become another headline I forget. And I can pray.
Our prayers matter. They are how we bring our grief and fear to Jesus when we do not have answers. They are also part of how I ask him to change me—to make me more attentive, more courageous, and more willing to help. In these dark days, I am holding close to him, and I am asking Jesus to show us how to love our neighbors well, so that my thoughts and prayers can help with meaningful change.
“I called to the Lord in my distress,
and I cried to my God for help.
From his temple he heard my voice…”
—Psalm 18:6