By John Charles McAllister-Ashley
"If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts." Psalm 95:8
I come to you not as a nun or a religious layperson, but as someone whose life has been shaped by gun violence. In 2012, I lost my older brother to a random act of gun violence. He was on his way home from work, when he was senselessly murdered for nothing more than the contents in his bookbag. I remember it all so vividly, the pain and hurt, the constant questioning, and wanting to turn back time.
In one moment, my family’s life was forever changed. His absence is something we live with every day. It shows up in the quiet moments, in the empty spaces, and in the future he never had the chance to live.
When gun violence touches a family, faith is tested in ways that are hard to explain unless you have lived it. I have asked God the same question so many grieving families ask: Why? Why him, and why so much violence in a world created for love? I do not have clear answers. What I have learned, though, is that faith does not take away the pain. Instead, it stays with us inside it.
Lent invites us into prayer, fasting, and reflection. For those who grieve, absence itself feels like a kind of fast. We know what it means to long for someone who cannot come back. No distraction or comfort can fill that space. And yet, Lent teaches us not to turn away from that emptiness, but to bring it to God, trusting that even there, we are not abandoned.
The Psalm for this Sunday says, “If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.” That line speaks deeply to me. Gun violence continues when hearts grow numb, when suffering becomes familiar, when families like mine are expected to carry loss quietly and move on. God’s voice calls us to something different. It calls us to stay open, to stay tender, to let the pain of others move us rather than shut us down.
Jesus knew violence firsthand. He was taken unjustly, harmed by a system that valued power over life. Yet his response was love. Not a love that looks away, but a love that confronts injustice and insists on dignity. That is the love Lent asks of us. A love that prays. A love that fasts. A love that acts.
This season, I offer my prayers and my fasting for families who are grieving today, for those whose losses are still raw, and for a world that too often looks away. My hope is that we hear God’s voice in their pain, that we refuse to harden our hearts, and that our faith moves us toward peace, justice, and life.
John Charles McAllister-Ashley is the Strategic Programs & Operations Specialist on the Institute Justice Team for the Sisters of Mercy of the Americas. His work places an emphasis on digital logistics for webinars, and leading core Justice Team initiatives, including the Border Immersion Programs. In 2012, he lost his older brother to a random act of gun violence on his way home from work, which is why he is driving force behind being apart of Nuns Against Gun Violence.