Covenant School Shooting: Grief, Hope, and a Christian Response to Violence
Summary:
On March 27, 2023, a 28-year-old former student entered The Covenant School in Nashville with three firearms and opened fire, killing three nine-year-old children and three beloved adults before being neutralized by police 14 minutes after the first 911 call. This was the deadliest school shooting since Uvalde and Tennessee's worst in history, occurring in a nation already reeling from more than 130 mass shootings in just 87 days. For Nashville's tight-knit Christian community, the attack represented not just abstract tragedy but personal devastation—one victim was the senior pastor's daughter, another was the Tennessee governor's wife's best friend. The shooting forced Christians nationwide to wrestle with theodicy's hardest questions while living in a cultural moment of deep political polarization, exhaustion from relentless gun violence, and anxiety about whether their own children's schools could be next.
Complete timeline and factual details from March 27, 2023
The attack unfolded with devastating speed on a Monday morning in Nashville's affluent Green Hills neighborhood. Wikipedia Audrey Elizabeth Hale, 28, a former Covenant School student, arrived at 9:54 a.m. and parked in the lot. Three minutes later, at 9:57 a.m., Hale sent an Instagram message to a former classmate stating "I'm planning to die today" and "something bad is about to happen." The friend immediately called a crisis hotline and then contacted the Davidson County Sheriff's Office at 10:13 a.m., but remained on hold for approximately seven minutes—too late to prevent what came next.
At 10:10 a.m., Hale shot through glass side doors and entered the building carrying an AR-15-style pistol, a KelTec SUB-2000, and a handgun—all legally purchased from five local gun stores between October 2020 and June 2022. The first 911 call reached Metropolitan Nashville Police at 10:13 a.m. Officers Rex Engelbert (27, a four-year MNPD veteran) and Detective Michael Collazo (31, a nine-year veteran and former Marine) arrived at 10:21 a.m., just eight minutes after the call. A staff member handed them a key to the school and told them desperately: "The kids are all locked down, but we have two kids that we don't know where they are."
The officers entered at 10:23 a.m. through the same shattered glass doors, beginning systematic room clearance on the first floor amid wailing fire alarms and gun smoke. They found custodian Mike Hill's body near the entrance—he had been the first victim, shot immediately when he noticed the intruder and tried to run. At 10:24 a.m., officers heard gunfire from the second floor where Hale was shooting at arriving police vehicles through a window. They rushed upstairs toward the sound. At 10:27 a.m., just 14 minutes after the first 911 call, officers encountered Hale in a second-floor common area. Engelbert fired approximately four rounds with his rifle; Collazo fired four rounds with his handgun, yelling "Stop moving!" Hale was fatally wounded, and officers immediately moved the weapons away and began rendering aid to victims.
The six victims whose names Nashville would never forget:
Three children, all nine years old, all third-graders, had their childhoods violently ended: Evelyn Dieckhaus, whose family could only say "our hearts are completely broken" and "Evelyn was a shining light in this world." Hallie Scruggs, daughter of Chad Scruggs, the senior pastor of Covenant Presbyterian Church which shared the campus with the school—her family stated "through tears we trust that she is in the arms of Jesus." William Kinney (called "Will"), described as "unfailingly kind, gentle when the situation called for it, quick to laugh, and always inclusive of others."
Three adults gave their lives protecting the children they served: Dr. Katherine Koonce, 60, the beloved Head of School who ran the institution while championing every student. Her family said simply: "She gave her life to protect the students she loved." Tennessee Governor Bill Lee revealed his wife Maria had been friends with Koonce for decades—they had taught together. Cynthia Peak, 61 (known as Cindy), a substitute teacher and mother of three who was also close friends with Maria Lee. She was supposed to have dinner with the governor's wife that very evening. Mike Hill, 61 (known as "Big Mike"), the school custodian for 14 years, father of seven and grandfather of 14, who learned every student's name and sang the Lord's Prayer at graduation ceremonies.
The Covenant School itself was a 200-student private Christian elementary school (pre-K through 6th grade) founded in 2001 as a ministry of Covenant Presbyterian Church in the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA) denomination. The school's motto—"Shepherding Hearts, Empowering Minds, Celebrating Childhood"—took on heartbreaking irony. The school had conducted active shooter training in 2022, and staff followed lockdown procedures during the attack, locking students in classrooms with lights off and windows covered. Every morning before the shooting, parents had been invited to chapel where 200 students and 40-50 staff would sing and pray together.
What was known about motive by March 28, 2023: Police found detailed writings, journals, maps of the school showing entry points, surveillance notes, and what they described as a "manifesto" in Hale's vehicle and bedroom. Police Chief John Drake stated the shooting was a "calculated and planned" targeted attack on the school itself, though the six individual victims were not specifically targeted. Drake told CBS that Hale "may have had some resentment for having to go to that school" as a former student who attended around age 10. Police believed Hale had scouted other potential targets including a mall but decided against them due to stronger security. Hale had been under a doctor's care for an "emotional disorder" and had been living with parents who believed one gun had been sold, unaware Hale was hiding weapons in the house. The parents had felt Hale should not own firearms. By March 28, no specific motive had been definitively determined, though police confirmed they "feel that [Hale] identifies as trans" but were still investigating.
How the Nashville Christian community rallied in the first 48 hours
The response from Nashville's Christian community was immediate, visceral, and overwhelming. Within hours of the 10:27 a.m. shooting conclusion, churches across the city were opening their doors—not for regular services but for corporate mourning, for the kind of communal lament that acknowledges some griefs are too heavy to bear alone.
Woodmont Baptist Church became the unexpected epicenter of immediate pastoral care when it was designated as the official reunification center. Senior Pastor Nathan Parker and his staff saw on Twitter that their church had been named the gathering point and immediately mobilized. As parents waited in the sanctuary through the agonizingly slow reunification process, the student minister provided coloring sheets and processed the horror with traumatized children in the fellowship hall. Parker prayed for the peace and safety of each child. Mental health professionals and Red Cross volunteers joined hundreds of first responders and church members who came to help, minister to families, drop off food, and provide whatever comfort presence could offer. Parker would later reflect: "As pastors, we are supposed to have the words. Today was one of those days that words didn't come easy. If they came, they came from the Spirit."
By 4:00 p.m. that same afternoon, Belmont University held a service of prayer and lament at the Bell Tower, noting that half a dozen Covenant faculty members were Belmont alumni. At 6:30 p.m., Belmont United Methodist Church opened for a community vigil. NPR Rev. Ingrid McIntyre explained: "We just wanted to respond to our community because we also have children who learn in our facility as well. We just wanted to become a space for the community to grieve together if they needed it and be a place of healing." Perhaps most dramatically, contemporary Christian singer Lauren Daigle transformed her scheduled album preview concert at Marathon Music Works into a community-wide prayer vigil at 7:30 p.m. She announced: "Today's shooting is truly heartbreaking for our Nashville community and all of those impacted. I'm going to postpone my performance tonight, and in its place, host a community-wide Prayer Vigil. To everyone who was planning to come out, please join us as we share in a time of prayer and worship to honor the victims and everyone in need. To those in the local Nashville area, if you need a safe place to come pray, mourn, and be with your community, please join us. The doors are open for all." The venue filled with weeping worshipers seeking God in their darkest hour.
At least eight separate vigils occurred across Nashville on March 27-28. The Belonging Co Church held a public prayer service where Lead Pastor Henry Seeley acknowledged some church families also sent children to Covenant School. "It's challenging honestly. There's been a lot of tears today," he said simply. "The Bible says to mourn with those who mourn and to weep with those who weep and that is why we wanted to come together tonight." Prayers, songs, and tears filled the church with what witnesses described as "a sense of togetherness and community." Christ Presbyterian Church held communal prayer services for the Covenant community, particularly poignant as many Covenant students matriculated to Christ Presbyterian Academy's high school. Lipscomb University held a vigil at 7:00 p.m. at Bison Square. Even the Catholic Cathedral of the Incarnation opened its doors, with Bishop J. Mark Spalding noting: "Everybody needs their sacred space and the church of course is easily seen as that so we kept our doors open and we invited others."
The official statement from The Covenant School, released that evening, captured the community's devastation: "Our community is heartbroken. We are grieving tremendous loss and are in shock coming out of the terror that shattered our school and church. We are focused on loving our students, our families, our faculty and staff and beginning the process of healing."
Statements from Christian leaders revealed the depth of theological wrestling: Scott Sauls, pastor of Christ Presbyterian Church in Nashville, published "Weeping in Nashville" on his blog and in Christianity Today, giving permission for the kind of honest lament that questions God like Martha did: "Lord, if you had been here." He emphasized: "In the wake of the horrid loss experienced by our friends at the Covenant School, it is right and good and even Christ-like for disorientation and grief to feel stronger and more formidable than feelings of hope. This is not okay. Easter is coming, but everything right now feels like Good Friday and Holy Saturday." His words acknowledged that rushing to resurrection hope without sitting in the tomb's darkness dishonors the dead and trivializes suffering. Russell Moore, Christianity Today's editor-in-chief and Nashville resident, wrote "After Nashville, Moral Numbness Is Our Enemy," noting "it's different when such a tragedy happens in your backyard. Some of the boys and girls fleeing for their lives were children of dear friends." He warned against the "hate and rage that have become so commonplace in our society that we barely even notice them anymore," calling Christians to recognize "this is not the way it's supposed to be."
Nathan Parker, reflecting on hosting the reunification center, connected the timing to Holy Week: "We're about to enter Holy Week, and it's going to be a different kind of Holy Week for sure. The message of the hope of the Resurrection—I don't know if it's ever been more needed or more welcome."
The Presbyterian Church in America's national response was swift and theologically grounded. Bryan Chapell, PCA Stated Clerk, issued a statement to CNN on March 27: "Our heartfelt concerns and prayers are for the families of Covenant Presbyterian Church, the Covenant School and the Nashville community. We grieve the loss and trauma associated with this horrible tragedy. May God comfort all who mourn." The PCA Coordinators and Presidents of Agencies and Committees issued a joint statement concluding with Romans 8:26: "Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words."
R. Neil Spence of Nashville Presbytery called for lament "in the face of unbearable grief and trial," acknowledging: "Words fail us in speaking of this tragedy even to one another, but our prayers will not fail us in lifting our pleas to God for mercy and the grace that is needed. God Himself will help us to pray in our weakness." The PCA Foundation immediately established "The Covenant Fund" in collaboration with church leadership "to assist with the immediate and ongoing relief and restoration of people and property impacted by the shooting," providing for "emotional, material, and financial needs created by this tragic incident."
Park Cities Presbyterian Church in Dallas, where Pastor Chad Scruggs (Hallie's father) had previously served as Associate Pastor, released a statement: "We love the Scruggs family and mourn with them over their precious daughter Hallie." Covenant Theological Seminary, the official PCA seminary where Scruggs is a graduate, immediately tweeted: "Please pray for the community of The Covenant School and Covenant PCA in Nashville today as our friends and alumni there grieve devastating tragedy."
On March 29, a citywide vigil in downtown Nashville drew thousands, including First Lady Dr. Jill Biden, Sheryl Crow, and Metro Police Chief John Drake. Tennessee State Rep. Rev. Harold M. Love, Jr. closed with prayer: "God, we come at this most difficult moment for these families and our city. Violence has visited our city and brought heartache and pain. In the midst of sorrow, we are yet looking for hope... Love to bring healing. Grace to bring compassion and strength to bring change so that this never happens again." He called on the crowd to never forget the names of those killed as he named them one by one. The crowd sang "Amazing Grace" as they departed.
Biblical and theological resources for processing violence against children
When children are murdered, every theological system strains at the seams. The Christian faith provides robust resources for processing tragedy, but it offers no easy answers—and scripture itself validates the tension between trusting God's sovereignty and crying out in anguished protest at evil's devastation.
Theodicy and the limits of explanation: The Gospel Coalition presents what theologians call the "Greater Good Theodicy"—the framework showing God aims at great goods by way of various evils while leaving created persons "in the dark" about which goods are his reasons. Three biblical narratives illustrate this pattern: Job's suffering vindicated God's worthiness when Satan claimed Job only served God for blessings (Job 1-2, 42); Joseph's betrayal and enslavement preserved God's people through famine, leading Joseph to tell his brothers "you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good" (Genesis 50:20); and supremely, Jesus' crucifixion accomplished redemption "according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God" (Acts 2:23-24). These stories establish that God can have purposes in allowing evil that remain hidden from us.
Yet multiple Christian thinkers warn against theodicy construction as potentially "destructive practice." Theologian J. Todd Billings argues we should reflect on tragedy rather than justify it. Wendy Farley emphasizes "desire for justice" and "anger and pity at suffering" over "theodicy's cool justifications." Karl Barth insisted only the crucifixion establishes God's goodness; any theodicy becomes "anticlimactic" after the cross. The tension is biblical: Scripture offers theodicies (suffering as punishment for sin, soul-building character formation, enabling higher-order goods like courage and compassion, pain as "God's megaphone" to get attention), but it also emphasizes divine inscrutability. Romans 11:33-36 declares: "How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!" Our cognitive limitations make confidence about God's reasons inappropriate, especially in the immediate aftermath of horror.
The biblical gift of lament: Over one-third of the Psalms (50+) are laments, yet Franciscan Media notes: "Despite its wide-ranging presence in the Bible, we Christians have by and large lost touch with this dimension of prayer. It is something we need to recover." Lament psalms follow a pattern: direct address to God ("Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord," Psalm 130:1), honest complaint ("How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?" Psalm 13:1-2), appeal for help with specific requests, and typically movement toward trust and praise—though critically, Psalm 88 ends without resolution, demonstrating that persistent darkness without easy comfort is biblically acceptable.
The question "How long?" appears repeatedly in Scripture as the cry of God's people experiencing suffering that seems interminable. Psalm 22 opens with "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"—words Jesus himself would cry from the cross (Matthew 27:46), demonstrating that even the Son of God entered fully into the experience of feeling abandoned by the Father. Psalm 6 expresses physical and emotional anguish: "I am worn out from groaning." Psalm 10 questions why God stands aloof in times of trouble. Communal laments like Psalms 44, 74, 79, 80, and 83 provided ancient Israel language for processing national tragedies—the kind of collective grief the Covenant School community and broader Nashville churches needed.
Jesus himself modeled lament. In Gethsemane he prayed "Take this cup away from me" (Mark 14:36), and Hebrews 5:7 records that Jesus offered prayers "with loud cries and tears." The Book of Job provides the most extended biblical meditation on innocent suffering—Job's radical honesty ("Why did I not perish at birth?" Job 3:11) is ultimately vindicated by God, who tells Job's friends "you have not spoken of me what is right, as my servant Job has" (Job 42:7-8). God never explains the "why" to Job but reveals his character through questioning Job's limited perspective (Job 38-42). The message: Honest wrestling with God is preferable to false explanations that defend God at the expense of truth.
Scripture's special concern for children: Jesus made his stance on children unambiguous and severe. In Matthew 18:5 he declared "Whoever receives one such little child in my name receives me," and in verse 6 he issued a terrifying warning: those who harm "these little ones" would be better off with "a millstone hung around his neck" and drowned in the sea. Matthew 18:10 reveals "their angels always see the face of my Father"—suggesting children have special access to God's presence. When disciples rebuked parents for bringing children to Jesus, seeing it as an unimportant interruption, Jesus responded sharply: "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these" (Matthew 19:14). Mark 10:16 records that Jesus took children in his arms, laid hands on them, and blessed them—demonstrating their intrinsic spiritual value. Psalm 127:3 declares "Children are a heritage from the LORD." Throughout the prophets, God expresses fierce anger at violence against children: Jeremiah 19:4-5 and 32:35 condemn "spilling the blood of innocent children" as grave sin. Joel 3:3 pronounces judgment on those who "traded children as commodities." The biblical witness is clear: God especially values children, and those who harm them will face his wrath.
Theological tension: Sovereignty and suffering coexist: John Piper's framework from Desiring God addresses the apparent paradox by questioning two false assumptions—that feeling God's sovereignty conflicts with compassion, and that God being the ultimate cause excludes our hurt, weeping, helping, or outrage. His key insight: "Part of God's will in permitting or ordaining a calamity is that we weep with those who weep. That is part of the plan." God intends weeping, abhorrence of evil, and rescue of perishing as part of his sovereign design. R.C. Sproul's famous phrase "there are no maverick molecules" establishes God's comprehensive control, but this doesn't eliminate human responsibility or appropriate emotional response.
The cross provides the key to this tension. Romans 8:31-32 argues from greater to lesser: "He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all—how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?" God sent Jesus into suffering by divine plan (Acts 2:23), proving he's on our side even when he ordains painful circumstances. As Revive Our Hearts notes: "If God is not in control, even if His intentions are good, then we can't actually trust him to ordain what is right and best." Sovereignty properly understood becomes comfort rather than obstacle—but only after "passing through the dark side of divine sovereignty" by turning to God with all sorrow and questions, worshiping even in pain, and trusting that "God loves you with faithful and everlasting love through his Son."
David, Jeremiah, Job, and even Jesus questioned God. Lamenting is an act of faith, not its failure. Questioning is not sinful if not "sitting in judgment of the Lord." God has "millions of good and holy purposes" even in tragedies we cannot see, and our response should not be determined by false logical deductions from sovereignty but from what the Bible explicitly says: show compassion, express outrage at sin, work for relief, and trust that the God who entered into suffering at the cross understands and redeems.
Christian perspectives on gun violence: Acknowledging faithful diversity
On few issues do faithful, Bible-believing Christians disagree more sharply than gun violence and policy responses. Any pastoral article must acknowledge this diversity honestly while seeking common ground in protecting children and valuing life.
The pro-gun control Christian position draws heavily on Jeremiah 29:7—"Seek the welfare (shalom) of the city"—arguing Christians should work for societal good, which includes reducing gun violence. Proponents emphasize God's consistent biblical concern for the downtrodden (James 1:27; Isaiah 32:15-18), noting gun violence disproportionately affects areas of poverty and domestic violence, with women and children particularly vulnerable. They point to Jesus' consistent nonviolence: the Sermon on the Mount teaching "do not resist the evildoer" (Matthew 5:38-48), his rebuke when Peter used a sword (Matthew 26:52), and his forbidding violence for building God's kingdom (Luke 9:51-56). As one Christian ethicist states: "I do not think anyone who has read the Gospels could imagine [Jesus] killing someone in self-defense." Early Christian martyrs preferred death to taking life. Advocates note practical effectiveness—Chicago's experience shows localized laws fail when surrounding areas lack restrictions (20% of guns recovered from criminals came from one store just outside city limits). They support extreme risk protection orders (red flag laws), universal background checks, and assault weapons restrictions. Organizations like Sojourners (whose Jim Wallis called for a "church boycott of the NRA"), RAWtools (which literally turns guns into farming tools per Isaiah 2:4), and Everytown Faith Advisory Council represent this stream. Notably, even among gun-owning evangelicals, Pew Research reveals significant support for restrictions: 89% support restrictions for mental health issues, 80% support background checks at gun shows, and 63% support bans on assault-style weapons. The Daily Beast
The pro-gun rights Christian position emphasizes Luke 22:36 where Jesus tells disciples "Let the one who has no sword sell his cloak and buy one," interpreting this as authorization for self-defense. They cite Exodus 22:2-3 (homeowner not guilty if killing nighttime intruder) and Nehemiah 4:15-23 (Israelites armed themselves during Jerusalem's wall construction) as biblical precedent. Gun Owners of America frames the Second Amendment as reflecting a "God-given right" to self-defense, with Proverbs 25:26 warning that "righteous who give way to wicked" are like "muddied springs." They argue the Founders considered self-defense and gun ownership divinely sanctioned.
This position emphasizes individual responsibility over legal restrictions: the problem is "bad people with guns" not guns themselves. The solution is cultural change through Christ transforming hearts, not legislation that "cannot legislate evil away." Research shows 82% of white Christian nationalists agree "the best way to stop bad guys with guns is good guys with guns." They advocate for armed security in schools, stronger role for religion in public life, and protecting constitutional freedoms they see affirmed in Romans 13's teaching to submit to government—since the Second Amendment is law.
Middle ground positions exist and deserve acknowledgment. Compelling Truth states: "Gun control is not a moral or biblical issue, rather a philosophical or political issue that can and should be regularly debated," applying Romans 14:1-4 on freedom where Scripture doesn't speak specifically. GotQuestions.org notes "nothing unspiritual about owning a gun or knowing how to use one" but also nothing mandating ownership—it's a matter of personal conviction within lawful boundaries. Sean McDowell's interview with author Mike Austin recommends building strong communities (addressing root causes), supporting red flag laws (proven effective), and research-based approaches to reducing violence while acknowledging Christians can disagree on specifics.
Critical distinction: Research reveals white Christian nationalism (as distinct from mainstream evangelicalism) strongly correlates with opposition to gun restrictions, but not ultimately about gun rights—rather about "controlling who gets access to cultural and political power" and "protecting freedoms of white conservatives to suppress disorder." This politicized strain should not be conflated with the range of faithful evangelical perspectives on guns. The pastoral task is naming this complexity honestly: Christians who emphasize Jesus' nonviolence and prioritize protecting vulnerable populations from gun violence are faithfully applying Scripture. Christians who emphasize self-defense rights and individual responsibility over legal restrictions are also faithfully applying Scripture. The tragedy is that political polarization has made it nearly impossible to find common ground on practical measures most Christians actually support when asked directly.
The cultural reality Christians were living in March 2023
By March 27, 2023, America had already experienced 130 mass shootings in just 87 days—more than one per day. This was the context in which Christians woke up to news of the Covenant School shooting: not an anomaly but the latest entry in an exhausting, relentless catalog of violence that had begun to feel grimly normal. January 2023 alone saw 52 mass shootings, including Monterey Park (11 killed at Lunar New Year celebration) and Half Moon Bay (7 killed in workplace violence). The Covenant School shooting was the deadliest since Uvalde, Texas, in May 2022 when 19 children and two teachers were murdered.
For Christian parents, this meant sending children to school—public or private—carried anxiety that previous generations never faced. Active shooter drills were as routine as fire drills, a grim ritual of American childhood. Covenant School itself had conducted active shooter training in 2022, and that preparation likely saved lives as teachers locked down classrooms and followed protocols. But the shooting demonstrated that even private Christian schools in affluent neighborhoods with security measures and training were vulnerable. As one Christian second-grade teacher at a nearby private school reflected while walking past Covenant's campus: the realization that it could have been her school, her students, was inescapable.
Tennessee's political environment intensified the sense of helplessness. The state had some of the nation's weakest gun laws after eliminating permit requirements for carrying handguns in July 2021—anyone could carry loaded firearms in public without background check, permit, or safety training. There were no waiting periods, no red flag laws, no universal background checks, no assault weapons restrictions. Tennessee's gun death rate increased 45% from 2014 to 2023 (compared to 33% nationally). The state legislature's Republican supermajority (100 of 132 seats) had consistently opposed gun restrictions.
The immediate legislative response after Covenant exemplified this stance. On April 4—just one week after six people were murdered at a Christian school—the Senate Judiciary Committee voted to defer all gun legislation until 2024, with the chair explaining he didn't want the committee "turned into a circus." Bills deferred included both restrictions and expansions (like arming teachers). Governor Bill Lee, despite the deeply personal nature of the tragedy (his wife's best friends were among the dead), only proposed an "order of protection" law similar to red flag laws on April 11—his first embrace of any gun reform measure. His other proposals focused on hardening schools: $205 million for school security and armed guards at every public school.
The national response followed a now-familiar pattern: President Biden called the shooting "sick" and "heartbreaking, a family's worst nightmare" and urged Congress to "pass my assault weapons ban" and "do more to stop gun violence. It's ripping our communities apart and ripping at the very soul of the nation." He ordered U.S. flags at half-staff through March 31. But with a Republican-controlled House opposed to new restrictions and Senate Democrats lacking votes to overcome filibuster, no legislative movement occurred. The cultural division was stark: an estimated 42% of households owned firearms, with 258-394 million guns in civilian hands, and deep polarization on whether guns represented constitutional rights or public health crisis. Public opinion showed 61% of Americans believed it was too easy to legally obtain guns, and 58% favored stricter laws (Gallup, October 2023), but these views divided sharply by party—77% of Democrats wanted stricter laws versus just 27% of Republicans.
The most dramatic political response occurred when the shooting became entangled with Tennessee's authoritarian streak. On March 30, as thousands of protesters (including students) flooded the Tennessee Capitol demanding gun control, three Democratic lawmakers—Justin Jones (Nashville), Justin Pearson (Memphis), and Gloria Johnson (Knoxville)—joined protesters' chants from the House floor using a bullhorn without being formally recognized. This 45-minute protest led Republicans to strip their committee assignments and file resolutions to expel all three. On April 6, the House voted to expel Jones (72-25) and Pearson (69-26), while Johnson survived by a single vote (65-30, one short of the two-thirds needed). The expulsions were extraordinarily rare—used only twice since the 1800s, usually for serious crimes like bribery—and many noted the racial element: Jones (Black-Filipino) and Pearson (Black) were expelled while Johnson (White) survived. President Biden called it "shocking, undemocratic, and without precedent."
The "Tennessee Three" drama dominated national news for two weeks, exemplifying how gun debates had become proxy battles over democracy, racial justice, and cultural power rather than policy discussions. Nashville Metro Council and Shelby County quickly reinstated Jones and Pearson as interim representatives, and both won special elections in August to reclaim seats permanently. But the episode demonstrated that in Tennessee, rather than debate gun policy after a massacre, Republicans punished lawmakers who called for reform.
For Christians specifically, additional anxieties emerged. Initial uncertainty about whether the shooter targeted Covenant because it was Christian created fear that faith communities were being singled out. Some Republican lawmakers, including Sen. Josh Hawley, immediately called for federal hate crime investigation "against Christians." While the final police report (not released until April 2025) concluded Hale targeted Covenant because he "believed the Christian faith of those within would make them meek and afraid" and recognized "the age of the children and the school being considered a Christian school made [him] recognize the instant notoriety," the primary motive was desire for media attention inspired by Columbine, not anti-Christian animus per se. But in March 2023, Christians were processing this as potentially religious targeting, raising questions about whether Christian values of openness and grace made their institutions vulnerable.
The broader 2023 context included awareness that globally 380+ million Christians face persecution (one in seven worldwide), with 4,476 Christians killed for faith-related reasons in 2024 and 430 churches/Christian properties attacked in 2023 (an 800% increase since 2018). While American persecution doesn't compare to global contexts, church shootings like Charleston and Sutherland Springs had created a sense of vulnerability in spaces meant to be welcoming.
This was the reality Christians were living: pervasive gun violence averaging more than one mass shooting daily, political gridlock despite public support for some reforms, state-level responses punishing advocates of change rather than addressing violence, parental fear as children practiced lockdown drills, cultural exhaustion as the cycle of tragedy-outrage-inaction repeated endlessly, and for Nashville Christians specifically, the deeply personal devastation of losing community members including a pastor's daughter, beloved school leaders, and innocent third-graders.
Pastoral care for traumatized communities: Ministry of presence over answers
Traumatic grief differs fundamentally from ordinary grief because trauma's threat and anxiety must be addressed before grief's loss and sorrow can be fully processed. As Presbyterian Outlook notes: "Trauma is a blow, whereas loss is a wound." Trauma intensifies grief and complicates bereavement, with higher risk of PTSD, depression, suicide, and prolonged grief disorder. People must first get physically well and stabilize, then reduce trauma-related anxiety, before they can fully enter the grief process. "Difficult to grieve fully when feeling threatened. Severe anxiety contaminates or blocks grieving."
This has profound implications for pastoral response. In the immediate aftermath, the ministry of presence matters more than words. The National Association of Catholic Chaplains emphasizes "simply being with someone in their grief can be incredibly comforting"—active listening without interruption or judgment, reflective listening that validates the griever, visiting and sitting quietly. Prayers should be personalized, mentioning the deceased by name, acknowledging pain while lifting hope. But pastoral leaders must avoid common errors: minimizing loss with clichés ("At least she's in a better place"), rushing to comfort before listening, handing out books or pamphlets too soon (people are paralyzed in early trauma), pressuring toward "acceptance" before lament has happened, and failing to follow up months later when isolation often intensifies.
Rev. Kerri Erbig's trauma-informed approach draws on Judith Herman's three stages of trauma recovery: establishing safety, remembering and mourning (trauma processing), and reconnecting with ordinary life. Key principles include present moment awareness, providing access to choices (which restores sense of control lost in trauma), and critically, not forcing people to tell their trauma story if they're still overwhelmed—this can cause retraumatization rather than healing.
The biblical model for caregiving centers on presence: "The LORD is close to the brokenhearted" (Psalm 34:18), "Weep with those who weep" (Romans 12:15), and 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 revealing God as the "God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God." Matthew 5:4 promises: "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted."
Practical congregational care requires deploying the whole Body of Christ, not just the pastor. Programs like GriefShare (13-week video-based curriculum featuring 40+ Christian experts and real grief stories) allow lay leaders to provide ongoing support. Small groups for specific losses, trained lay grief ministers, and long-term follow-up over months and years prevent the isolation that often follows initial support. As Influence Magazine (Assemblies of God) warns: "Grieving people are exquisitely sensitive and will always remember how others responded to them during this time. They will be forever grateful for their pastor's loving care—or hurt by the lack of it."
Pastors must recognize when professional help is needed: suicidal ideation, extended inability to function, PTSD symptoms (flashbacks, avoidance, hypervigilance), depression not improving over time, or substance abuse as coping. Referring to Christian therapists or psychiatrists is not failure—it's appropriate care. As mandated reporters, pastoral leaders should not hesitate to call 911 for immediate danger while partnering with mental health professionals for comprehensive care.
The Nashville response embodied these principles: Woodmont Baptist Church hosting the reunification center with mental health professionals immediately available, multiple churches opening within hours for prayer vigils, Lauren Daigle transforming her concert into communal worship space, the PCA establishing a fund for long-term material and emotional support, and pastors like Nathan Parker admitting "words didn't come easy" while still showing up to offer whatever the Spirit provided. The emphasis was not on explaining why but on being present with those who suffered.
Resurrection hope: Life after life after death
When Christians speak of hope in the face of death, the temptation is to skip directly to "they're in heaven now" and consider the matter resolved. But biblical hope is more concrete, more embodied, and paradoxically more able to hold both grief and confidence than this truncated version suggests. As J. Todd Billings notes: "We have steady promise from God that this will take place, but it hasn't happened yet. Death will not be dead until the glory of the Lord in the temple is spread across the whole of creation."
First Corinthians 15 is Paul's definitive teaching: Christ's resurrection is Christians' "only hope for death not having the final word." Verse 17 stakes everything on historicity: "If Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile." But verse 20 triumphantly declares: "But Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep." The passage builds to verses 54-55: "Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is your sting?"
The key theological framework that many Christians have lost is the two-stage hope. Most have adopted a one-stage view: die, go to heaven, end of story. But Scripture teaches something richer. Stage one involves the soul being present with Christ immediately after death (2 Corinthians 5:8; Philippians 1:21)—"at home with the Lord" but "absent from the body." This is real and comforting, but something is incomplete about this bodiless condition—we are not yet fully whole. Stage two occurs at Christ's Second Coming: bodily resurrection when bodies are raised from graves (1 Corinthians 15:51-54), heaven and earth are reunited, and the Lord dwells with creatures as in the temple. THIS is when "death will be dead." THEN "death is swallowed up in victory." As Matt Martens writes in The Gospel Coalition: "We do not place our hope merely in life after death but rather in life after life after death."
This matters because it means Christ "broke the permanence of death" not by showing people go to heaven (that was already believed) but through Resurrection Sunday when Jesus "was made whole" in body reunited with spirit. The Christian Creed affirms "the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come"—not escape from bodily existence (that's gnosticism, an early heresy) but restoration of embodied life in new creation. God created the physical world good; new creation includes bodily resurrection because bodies matter.
For grieving families, this provides specific comfort: 1 Peter 1:3 grounds living hope in "God's great mercy" exercised "through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead." Because of new birth, union with Christ means his indestructible life is ours (Romans 6:5: "united with him in death...united in resurrection"). This is not dead hope or wishful thinking but confidence based on historical event with ongoing power—Christ "can never die again," and this indestructibility belongs to those in him.
First Thessalonians 4:13 explains: "We do not grieve like the rest who have no hope." The difference is not that Christians don't grieve—Jesus wept at Lazarus's tomb (John 11:35) even knowing he would raise him minutes later. The grief is real; the pain of missing physical presence is valid; separation hurts. But for the non-believer, the loved one "really is lost forever"—a "black hole" as Elizabeth Groves describes it in Ligonier. For the believer, separation is temporary; the loved one is alive with Christ, awaiting that final resurrection when families reunite in glorified bodies.
God remains sovereign AND with us. He does not "sit aloof in heaven." Immanuel means "God with us." Jesus as High Priest intercedes for us (Hebrews 7:25); the Holy Spirit intercedes when we don't know how to pray (Romans 8:26). As Cameron Cole, who lost his three-year-old son, testified: "If God has ability to raise Jesus from dead, then he can redeem all my suffering and misery. The life of my Worst is buried with Christ in death and will be raised with him in resurrection power." The truths he clung to: God is on my side (Romans 8:31-32), God is more for me than I am for myself, God gave Jesus—when he gives pain, can we not trust him? "The road ahead is long and painful, but Christ has defeated sin and death through the cross."
For the Covenant School children specifically, additional promises apply: Matthew 18:10 reveals children have "angels in heaven [who] always behold the face of my Father"—special access to God's presence. Jesus took children in his arms and blessed them, declaring "the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these" (Matthew 19:14). There is no age restriction on God's promises. Evelyn, Hallie, and Will are with Christ, awaiting bodily resurrection like all believers, when families will be reunited in resurrected bodies in new creation.
The final word remains Revelation 21:4: "He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." This is the certain hope. Not yet realized. But absolutely promised. Christians live in the tension: Christ HAS defeated death (already), but death is not yet fully defeated (not yet). We live between resurrection and final resurrection. Current grief is real; future hope is certain. Worship continues even in the valley of shadow because we know the story's ending—not because we've reached it yet, but because the empty tomb guarantees it.
Prayer and practical steps forward
A prayer for the Covenant School community and all who mourn:
Gracious and sovereign God, we come before you with groaning too deep for words, trusting that your Spirit intercedes when we cannot form prayers. We confess the events of March 27, 2023 are not okay—not in your original design, not in your heart, not in what you intend for your image-bearers and especially not for the little ones you so tenderly love.
We lift before you Evelyn Dieckhaus, Hallie Scruggs, William Kinney, Katherine Koonce, Cynthia Peak, and Mike Hill—names we will not forget, lives we entrust to your keeping. We believe they are now in your presence, those angels beholding your face, awaiting that great day when death itself will be dead and you will make all things new.
Comfort the families who wake each day to unbearable absence. Walk with Chad Scruggs as he pastors while grieving his daughter. Sustain the parents of Evelyn and Will. Uphold the spouses and children of Katherine, Cindy, and Mike. Give them your peace that surpasses understanding, the kind that doesn't make sense but somehow holds when everything else falls apart.
Be near to every student who was in that building, every teacher who locked their classroom door, every first responder who entered not knowing what they would find. Heal trauma in bodies and minds. Raise up skilled counselors and patient friends who will walk the long road of recovery.
We pray for your church—make us communities that know how to weep with those who weep, that don't rush past Good Friday to Easter Sunday, that can hold both grief and hope in the same breath. Give us wisdom for the conversations ahead about how to protect children. Where we disagree on means, unite us in commitment to the end: that your little ones would grow up safe, loved, and celebrated in their childhood.
And we confess our longing for your return, for that day when the groaning of creation ends, when resurrection bodies rise, when heaven and earth are joined, and when you dwell with us wiping every tear from every eye. Come quickly, Lord Jesus. Even so, come. Amen.
Practical applications for churches:
First, create and sustain spaces for corporate lament. Christians need permission and structure for honest grief that questions God like Martha, Job, and even Jesus did. Regular prayer services that incorporate lament psalms, testimony times where people can speak pain without pressure toward resolution, and recognition that some grief requires months or years, not weeks. The Nashville churches that opened their doors within hours exemplified this—providing space to grieve together because some burdens are too heavy for isolation.
Second, train congregations in trauma-informed care. Partner with Christian mental health professionals to equip lay leaders in recognizing PTSD symptoms, understanding that trauma must be stabilized before grief can be fully processed, learning to be present without offering premature comfort, and knowing when to refer for professional help. Develop care teams focused on long-term support, not just immediate crisis response, with particular attention to the follow-up six months and one year later when initial support often fades.
Third, have honest conversations about protecting children while acknowledging disagreement on policy. Churches can unite around shared commitments (children are precious to God, violence against them is especially heinous, Christians should work for the welfare of their communities) while recognizing faithful believers reach different conclusions about gun policy. Create forums for respectful dialogue that don't demonize those who emphasize different biblical principles. Focus on what the congregation can directly influence: church security assessments, relationship with local schools, supporting teachers and administrators, addressing mental health stigma, and fostering community resilience that addresses root causes of violence.
Fourth, teach the full biblical theology of resurrection hope—not just "heaven when you die" but the embodied, new creation vision of Scripture. Help congregants understand grief and hope are not opposites but companions on the journey. Model this in funeral liturgies, pastoral care, and preaching that doesn't minimize loss but grounds confidence in Christ's resurrection and the certain future resurrection of believers.
Fifth, mobilize the Body for mutual care. Grief ministry cannot rest on pastors alone; it requires the whole church deploying its gifts. Consider implementing programs like GriefShare, training lay grief counselors, creating meal trains and practical support systems, and establishing protocols for ongoing care. Remember the Woodmont Baptist Church response: hundreds of volunteers showed up unbidden to help however they could. Cultivate that culture of radical availability to those who suffer.
Finally, maintain prophetic witness in a polarized culture. Christians are called to be peacemakers (Matthew 5:9), to speak truth with grace (Ephesians 4:15), and to love neighbors sacrificially (Luke 10:27). This means resisting the temptation to tribal partisan alignments and instead asking in every situation: What does fidelity to Jesus and his kingdom require? How do we seek the welfare of our city? How do we protect the vulnerable while respecting legitimate disagreements? The watching world needs to see Christians who mourn, hope, disagree charitably, and ultimately trust not in political solutions but in the God who entered into suffering at the cross and will one day wipe away every tear.
The road ahead is long. The questions remain. The grief is real. But Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again. This is the foundation that holds when everything else shakes. This is the hope that allows us to stare into the darkness and still sing of resurrection. This is the faith that carries grieving families through valley of shadow toward that certain dawn when the Lord of Hosts makes all things new.
"In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." —John 16:33
