When Tragedy Happens, Run to the Hurting (Not to a Narrative)

On January 21st, 10 people were killed and others injured when a gunman opened fire at a Lunar Year celebration at Monterey Park. 

Monterey Park is roughly 65% Asian. 10 miles from where I grew up. It hit home on different levels. 

In the next 48 hours, I saw 3 different waves of narratives hit one after another.

Here were the 3 waves: 

Wave 1: Narrative on Anti-Asian Racism. This sentiment said something like,“It’s horrible that Asian Americans still live under the fear of racism on what should’ve been a night of cultural celebration after all that they’ve/we’ve been through since 2020.” 

Wave 2: Narrative on Gun Violence. This sentiment said something like, “Guns are the problem in this country. How many more shootings? We need to do something about this.” 

Wave 3: Narrative on Political Narratives. After the shooter was determined to be Asian, some on one side of the political aisle said, “Some are really quiet after realizing the ethnicity of the shooter does not fit their political narrative.” Others responded by saying, “To come out and talk about the issue in this way while ignoring the hurting Asian community is in itself a form of ethnic supremacy.” 

Why do we do this as a culture?

Why do we rush so quickly to a narrative?

There could be a few reasons, but if I had to pick the most charitable option, it would be that we’re trying to validate the stories we’ve placed our hope in.

Everyone has placed their trust in a story. Every story has a worldview that we deem good, right, and true. And every day we make attempts to fit our situations into the narratives we believe about the world. We do this because it is comforting in a harsh reality. 

I understand this impulse. I do the same thing. When a shooting happens and the victims look like me, I’m tempted to run to the narratives too. My mind begins to race as I think about the racialized world my kids are growing up in. I think about the worst-case scenarios. I want to make sense of it all too. 

But in running quickly to narratives, I have often moved away from those who the Lord is near: The vulnerable and the hurting. 

Psalm 34:18 says, “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” Read that again. It doesn’t say, “The Lord is near those with a hot take.” It doesn’t say, “The Lord commands we crush others with our preferred narrative.” It says that the Lord is near to those who are hurting and crushed. 

We should run the way God runs. Not to a narrative, but to the hurting. 

So How Do I Do This: 

1. Resist Virtue Signaling on Social Media 

I didn’t say don’t post about something. Bringing awareness is a good thing. But there’s a really big difference between bringing awareness to a tragedy through social media versus using the tragedy for a greater personal end.

And if you can’t resist virtue signaling, that’s a sign your audience has shaped you more than you think you’re shaping others.

2. Pray for Those Impacted. 

“What’s the benefit in ‘thoughts and prayers’?” Yes, prayer should never be a tool to propagate passivity and in-action. But pitting prayer against activism is inaccurate. (And simply posting on social media isn’t activism, either.)

It’s also really cruel to not pray. Think about those impacted by the shootings at Monterey Park. They don’t need prayer? They don’t need the God of the universe to move on their behalf right now? You and I have the power to bring about spiritual impact and we won’t do it? That’s not right. 

3. Reach Out to Someone You Know. (Without Trying to “Fix” Their Emotions)

Here’s how you can do it: Text someone, “How are you doing?” And then just let them speak. You don’t need to give your commentary. You don’t need to say, “What about….” Let the hurting hurt. 

4. Remind Yourself to Resist Virtue Signaling on Social Media  

Let’s run to the hurting and not to a narrative, since that’s what God does.