Echoes of Terror and Reflection
As I went through the report from Old Dominion University following last month’s terrorist attacks, a sense of confusion and fear lingered. Families find themselves waiting for answers that come too slowly.
In these moments, it’s hard to think rationally. There’s just this overwhelming sadness mixed with a calm anger at the senseless acts, and a quiet admiration for those who step up to take risks.
For hours, law enforcement addressed the public, reiterating the familiar messages about the nature of terrorism.
“Past behavior predicts future performance.”
This refrain wasn’t delivered with rage. Rather, it felt like a weary sigh as, once again, an old pattern emerged.
It’s something we all understand on some level.
As Americans grieved, these words were echoed, recounted in the media and discussed by experts and politicians for days, dragging in collective emotions. You know how certain phrases just stick with you?
“Past behavior predicts future performance.”
That sentiment stayed with me, haunting me for weeks leading up to Easter. The repetition became significant.
This pattern? It’s evident in the actions of terrorists and criminals. But it raises a tougher question—could this insight extend beyond them? Is it possible that it’s a human flaw we all share?
The Apostle Paul expressed a similar struggle with honesty, recognizing the inner battle of wanting to change while continually slipping back into old habits. It’s not just about what we do; it’s about who we are at our core.
And that disconcerting truth isn’t merely about crime or terrorism. It’s about the everyday patterns we can never seem to shake. We notice this in recurring anger, grudges, and the excuses we make for our behavior.
Sure, our actions might differ in severity. They aren’t all the same, yet they are intertwined.
The Bible makes these distinctions clear, but they dig deeper than actions alone. That’s where the discomfort resides.
Related: Bible or slogans — you have to choose
If this “pattern” isn’t just external, we have to consider our own roles. It’s one thing to recognize issues in others; it’s another to confront the possibility that they exist within us too. That’s a tough mirror to hold up.
Are we merely seeing problems in the world, or are these issues ingrained in us as well?
If it’s the latter, then it’s a perpetual problem, not just an occasional one.
It resonates beyond the headlines; it hits home, and that’s a more challenging truth to face.
If our future relies on us, its course seems inevitable.
We often like to believe we are inherently good.
If that’s true, then why might we require a savior? And if we don’t, what does that mean for us?
The founders of this nation grappled with similar thoughts. They didn’t construct a system based on the belief that people would always choose right. They understood that human nature could manifest in governance, so they established a system of oversight to curb wrongdoing.
This naturally raises complex questions that can’t be neatly addressed in a press conference.
What breaks the cycle?
History suggests that we often don’t break it. We organize, regulate, and respond, but these measures rarely address the core issues fueling the cycle.
And this is precisely where Easter finds its meaning.
Related: The true origin of Easter
People don’t merely improve through effort. Left to our own devices, we pretty much stay stuck. Real change requires something more profound.
The Gospel doesn’t just present a polished version of our past; it replaces it. It’s not about fixing my errors; it’s about embracing a new identity.
What sin represents, in biblical terms, can’t be managed away at the cross. Judgment will occur, and what we lack will be provided.
That’s why an awakening is crucial.
Death serves as the final affirmation of an enduring pattern. It’s where all lives, if left unchecked, ultimately arrive. However, if death is overturned, the cycle it upheld no longer holds sway.
Something has interrupted it.
Paul summarized this idea succinctly.
“And there were such among you” (1 Corinthians 6:11).
It was true.
This cycle exists whether or not you choose to engage with it. It just does. Yet Easter proclaims that we aren’t left to face it alone.
While past behavior may inform future actions—and it often does—it no longer has to govern our reality.
The One who entered history, embraced our past, and triumphed over death is now charting the course for those who follow Him.
This isn’t just about having a second chance or a fresh start; it’s about a new identity.
It’s not my record but His, and that truly transforms everything.
