On November 23, 1963, I was in the third-grade classroom with Mrs. Lehmann when we heard an announcement over the PA that President Kennedy had been shot and was seriously hurt and that we all should pray for him.  Immediately, Mrs. Lehmann told us to kneel on the floor and we prayed the rosary.  She became upset, and I recall it was the first time I had seen an adult crying. 

Last Saturday after 4 pm Mass, I was upstairs in the rectory watching CNN’s coverage of a Donald Trump rally aat which it was thought that he might name his Vice-Presidential candidate.  I had turned my head to look at the computer when the speech began, when suddenly I heard the announcer break in.  For the next several minutes, no one knew what had happened until we saw the Secret Service agents lift up a visibly wounded Donald Trump and take him to a secure vehicle.  It would be another hour before we learned that, other than the wound to his ear, he was OK.

The assassination of President Kennedy was a pivotal moment in American history.  Prior to this event, news of Presidential deaths, even assassinations, came more slowly through bulletins.   Ever since November 23, 1963, we have become more accustomed to news, information, and misinformation being quickly disseminated and millions of people absorbed in seemingly non-stop coverage.  Now in 2024, we are so accustomed to these moments of violence that we almost cease to be shocked.

We have all noticed the hyped-up levels of partisanship, divisive rhetoric, suspicion of the “other side” that typifies modern conversation.  As a priest, I have witnessed the carnage of friendships, work relationships, and families over the constellation of political issues.  In therapy, patients learn to identify triggers and repeating patterns to train themselves to respond differently in these situations.  This cycle of violence, recrimination, and suspicion continues to escalate.  We are well beyond the place where “someone is going to get hurt” because we are all victimized by this anxiety and tension.

The Eucharist offers us our best chance to break this vicious cycle.  The violent act that leads to our Lord’s death becomes resurrection and ascension—the peace of Christ.  Division and violence move us away from this saving grace.  The only answer is peace.  To quote the well-known hymn, “Let there be peace on Earth, and let it begin with me.”