In my growing-up years, whenever I reflected on the Ten Commandments I used to think one of them unnecessary. Why did the Lord include among the injunctions given to Moses on Mount Sinai the command “Thou Shalt Not Kill?” Was it not obvious that a person should never murder another human being, no matter what the provocation? How could any sane person ever consider committing such a horrendous act?
Long life, however, has taught me that this commandment is not only badly needed but also radical in its spiritual demands. When you consider how many people fall victims to murderous violence by other human beings, its urgency becomes clear. Both on the stage of world history, where “ethnic cleansing” is currently in fashion, and on the domestic level of one-on-one relationships, violations of this command continue at a shocking rate.
The recent events in Littleton, Colorado confront us with an especially flagrant violation of God’s law. The massacre carried out by two teenagers is horrifying indeed in its scope and its viciousness. These young murderers were clearly not deterred by the fundamental moral law against the taking of human life. Thus, as Harvard University preacher Peter Gomes said last Sunday, they were, spiritually speaking, “boys already dead before they took their own lives.”
The commandment’s meaning goes far beyond the four simple words in which it is expressed. As biblical scholars point out, the Lord God speaks it to the chosen people of Israel in an atmosphere of loving personalism. In addressing this rescued community, God uses “Thou,” the second person singular conveying intimacy.
It also implies a fundamental respect for human dignity that murder flagrantly offends. As the Book of Genesis says, God regards creation as “very good,” human beings above all.
In this view, all human beings are bound together as brothers and sisters. Killing another person both violates this fundamental bond of humanity and counts as a crime against God himself. No matter what, at root we remain one family, God’s family.
The command also calls on all of us to discipline ourselves, to hold in check the disorderly passions that can lead us to inflict harm on others. Anger, especially, if allowed free rein, often turns deadly and impels us to take out our frustrations on others.
Monastic training long ago helped me to see how necessary it is to control violent emotions. You cannot flourish as a person of spirit, I came to understand, unless you hold in check impulses toward retaliation for personal insults.
And beyond restraining disordered impulses, I learned that, to be fully human, you had to move beyond self toward love of neighbor. That love remains the calling of every person and the height of spirituality.
At the same time, my colleagues and I, as young men in monastic training, also learned a pessimism about human beings that seems more and more appropriate. Our spiritual tradition taught us that we are flawed, that an original sin has made us prone to evil.
Far from being a depressing doctrine, I have always found this explanation of the world’s evil to be liberating. Belief that something has gone fundamentally wrong with human nature frees us to approach our lives realistically, with reliance on God and without comforting illusions.
The events in Colorado cry out for a response based in sound spirituality. From the principles explained above, at least two loom large in my thinking.
First, given the propensity of human beings toward evil, society cannot allow deadly weapons to be easily available. In permitting anyone, no matter how much out of control, to get weapons that can blow away human targets, the community risks altogether too much.
Secondly, we need to teach young people how violence against human beings damages them and the whole nation. Education in both public and private schools should aim at building good character helping young people to grow toward respect for themselves and for those other selves who make up their communities.
Many Americans recognize that the most promising responses to violence in our midst must ultimately be grounded in spiritual values. This in itself serves as a sign of hope at a time when hope is desperately needed.
Richard Griffin