Like many of you, I’ve found my screens and news sources increasingly filled with videos and stories of people being killed in encounters with ICE and then the ensuing debates about how one should see it all. Regardless of where one lands politically, the steady exposure to human death—replayed, slowed down, commented on, argued over—ought to grieve us. When the loss of life becomes just another clip in an endless feed, something precious in our shared humanity is at risk.

I do not know all the facts behind every video or headline. I know there are plenty of other very important stories unfolding of which I’m totally ignorant. I’m also wary of the pressure we all can feel to respond immediately and decisively to every breaking story, as though moral faithfulness requires reactive urgency. I know speed is certainly not synonymous with discernment and in fact often impedes.

And at the same time, I’m finding it increasingly difficult not to sense the pressing question: am I paying attention? Not in a way that distracts from the tangible vocations and constraints of my small, limited life, but in a way that is seeking to discern the signs of the times. I’m not one for extremism or overreaction, and yet, I find myself increasingly sensing the resonance of the words of Vaclav Havel, Jacques Ellul, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Oscar Romero, and others for our time and place. People whose lives were marked by a loyalty to Jesus and his teachings that led to an integrity that certainly didn’t map onto the social conventions of their day, as well to a courage that freed them to obey Jesus in the messy realities of their moment. And as I read and reflect with them, and continue to pay attention to the God revealed in the Scriptures… my prayers tonight are “Christ, have mercy” and “Christ, grant us the humility and courage to seek, speak and live the truth.”