There is no angle from which to view the tragedy that unfolded at Annunciation Catholic School in Minnesota without your heart breaking. Children were gunned down in their own school, during Mass, in the very house of God. Doors barricaded, bullets tearing through, little ones hunted like fish in a barrel. How can any of this make sense?
Children at Prayer
When we think of children, we think of purity, promise, innocence. Their lives are meant to be stories only just beginning, not violently cut short. That this massacre happened during Mass only deepens the wound. Children praying, singing, bowing their heads to God… and in that moment, a flood of evil.
Where was God? Why didn’t He send His angels to stand guard at those doors? We are left with the same question Jesus Himself cried from the cross: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46). That cry of lament is not faithless, it is prayer. Scripture gives us permission to bring our grief and rage to God, trusting He can bear it.
A Targeted Attack
The shooter, a former student of the school, carried out an intentional attack on children and on a Catholic community. This bears all the marks of an anti-Catholic hate crime, intertwined with the uniquely American epidemic of school shootings.
That the shooter was a transgender person has been made into a headline. But here we must speak carefully and truthfully. Their gender identity is relevant only to the details of this case, not to the moral character of millions of transgender people. To take the actions of one and cast them on all is to bear false witness, a direct violation of the commandment: “You shall not give false testimony against your neighbor” (Exodus 20:16).
Already, politicians have seized on this tragedy. Some suggest investigations into whether hormone therapy is linked to violence. That is not science, it is scapegoating. Ninety-eight percent of gun violence in this nation is committed by cisgender males.
The facts remain: transgender people in America are far more likely to be the victims of violent crime than its perpetrators. To use this tragedy to fuel further hatred, discrimination, or violence is sinful. Remember: “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted, and saves the crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18). Jesus ran toward the marginalized, not away from them.
Demonization and Dangerous Rhetoric
Transgender people have become the right wing’s favorite punching bag. They are demonized, portrayed as predators rather than prey. Laws are passed to strip them of dignity, services are cut, and people are encouraged to despise them.
When you constantly demonize people, when you treat them as less than human, you create conditions ripe for violence. This does not excuse the actions of this shooter, not by a long shot. But as Jesus warned us, “You will know them by their fruits” (Matthew 7:16). A culture of hatred will always bear bitter fruit. Violence begets violence.
A Life in Crisis, and a System That Failed
Some outlets report that the shooter may have been seeking to transition back to male. Again, no broad conclusions can be drawn about transgender people or gun violence from that fact. What it does reveal is a person in a deeply precarious mental state. And when someone is in that kind of distress, mental health care is not optional, it is essential. All people, transgender or not, need access to care, compassion, and accompaniment. Nobody should walk the road of identity, trauma, or despair alone. And every American, regardless of gender or circumstance, deserves affordable, accessible mental health care. Period.
It has also been reported that this individual was posting disturbing messages on social media, hints of violent intentions. Why was there nobody to help? Why did those posts slip through the cracks?
This is not simply an individual failure, it is a systemic one. For decades, our nation has gutted funding for mental health. We have closed hospitals, cut services, and left families to fend for themselves. We throw people into the deep waters of despair and then act surprised when they drown.
Jesus told us plainly: “Whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me” (Matthew 25:45). When the sick go uncared for, when those in despair cry out and are ignored, we fail not only them, but Christ Himself.
It’s the Guns
No developed nation on earth has a gun violence problem like ours. Other countries struggle with mental illness, with social division, with prejudice and fear. But only here do children practice active-shooter drills. Only here do we pair despair with deadly weapons.
The prophet Isaiah spoke God’s dream: “They shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore” (Isaiah 2:4). Yet in America, we have beaten plowshares into AR-15s, and we call it freedom. It is idolatry. And it is killing our children.
A Shepherd’s Word of Comfort
In moments like this, our words feel so small. We want explanations, but explanations cannot raise the dead. We want reasons, but reasons do not heal broken hearts. What we need is presence… God’s presence, and our presence to one another.
The God who wept at the tomb of Lazarus weeps again at the doors of Annunciation School. The Christ who said, “Let the little children come to me” now gathers these little ones in His arms. Their lives were torn from us, but they are not lost to Him.
And we, who remain, are called to hold fast to one another. To sit with our children when they ask why. To pray with our neighbors, even through our tears. To lift up our voices in grief and in protest, insisting that this land can choose life and not death.
The Psalmist says, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18). That is His promise. And because it is His promise, we can trust that in our mourning He is near. He holds our anger, our sorrow, our questions, and even our despair.
So let us not turn away from this darkness, but walk through it together, hand in hand, with Christ before us. For even here, even now, “the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5).
A Prayer for Annunciation
Lord Jesus Christ,
You said, “Let the little children come to me.” Today we place into Your loving embrace the children whose lives were taken. Hold them close, wipe away every tear, and let them know the fullness of Your peace.
We pray for the injured, that their bodies may be healed, their spirits strengthened, and their lives restored. We pray for those who will carry unseen wounds: the fear, the memories, the scars, that Your Spirit may bring comfort and wholeness.
We ask for an end to gun violence in this land, for courage among leaders to protect the innocent, and for a turning of hearts away from idolatry of weapons. We pray for an end to the bitter divisions and the demonization of the marginalized. Teach us again what it means to love our neighbor as ourselves.
We pray for all who grieve this tragedy, near and far. Even if we do not know these children by name, their loss diminishes us all. Restore our faith in humanity, O Lord, and anchor us in Your mercy.
We pray also for the shooter. In ways known only to You, may they have found repentance in their final moments. And we pray for their family, who now carry grief, shame, and confusion. Surround them with Your mercy and hold them through their sorrow.
Lord, You are close to the brokenhearted. Draw near to us now. Shine light in this darkness, and guide our feet into the way of peace.
Amen.
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