I was vacationing in Colorado the night “The Dark Knight Rises” premiered. Although I have trouble staying awake during midnight showings, I’d attended the debut of director Christopher Nolan’s previous film, “Inception,” in 2010, and found it to be invigorating. For me, no movie-going experience can match the thrill of watching a story unfold with a room full of avid fans, so I decided my Colorado adventure would include an early evening nap and the midnight premiere of “TDKR.”
My plans never gelled, and at midnight, I was lying down in my dad’s guest room listening to comedian Brian Regan on my iPhone and laughing until tears pooled in my eyes.
I arose the following morning and got online to read the reviews of “TDKR.” When I saw a headline about the shooting instead, I thought it was a joke. A few miles from where I had lain laughing, a heavily armed man had entered a theater and unleashed a barrage of gunfire on an unsuspecting crowd, killing scores of people and injuring many more.
When you heard the news, you likely felt as I did - stunned. Having been in close proximity to the events added a touch of surrealism to the reports, but I imagine this devastating tragedy has affected nearly everyone in one form or another.
Four days later, I was in a theater in Chattanooga, watching “TDKR” with a large Monday afternoon crowd. The movie was everything I’d hoped it would be: an epic and rousing finale to one of the most popular film series of all-time. It’s imperfect (a big chase begins during the day and quickly becomes a nighttime pursuit; cops emerge from three months of underground seclusion with cleanly shaven faces; and there are long stretches during which the motivations of several characters are unclear), but in the end, “TDKR” deserves every bit of the praise audiences and critics have lavished upon it.
However, during the screening, it was impossible to divorce my memory of the Aurora shooting from the experience of watching the movie. In the opening scene, I kept wondering when the killer had unleashed his murderous salvo, and I tried to imagine the shock and horror the people in the theater had experienced. No matter how far we travel down that path, our thoughts will never be able to reach that place.
So what do we do? Our natural inclination, beyond asking what motivated the shooter, is to look for ways to prevent it from happening again. How do we keep someone from spraying bullets at a crowd? Or how do we protect ourselves from becoming a victim when they do?
I doubt it’s possible to always prevent such an unimaginably savage event. Who saw this coming? Do we make all socially awkward, quiet recluses undergo regular analysis? Perhaps extending a hand of friendship might make a difference in some cases. I also don’t believe we can completely safeguard ourselves, short of going to the movies or the grocery store in full body armor.
That leaves either withdrawing from society or continuing to live as we have – aware of the dangers of this world, taking sensible precautions, but not hiding in fear from a terrorist’s bomb or a lunatic’s bullet.
I hope you decide to live as you have been called to live. Your feet were not created to run in fear, but to take you to extraordinary places; your hands were not created to lock doors, but to reach out to others; and your eyes were not created to gaze at the walls of a prison, but to communicate love. We were not created to be fixed points, but to be the living vessels of a higher power that has given us the spirit of power, love and a sound mind (2 Timothy 1:7).
So, please, don’t let the senseless slaughter in Aurora force you into a self-imposed cell. Honor the victims by going to the movies and maybe taking someone who could use a friend.