January 3, 2014  / 2 Shevat,  5774

In her most innocent and precious way, Claire tried to shine a light on Karl's darkness … My wife and I forgive Karl Pierson for what he did because he didn't know what he was doing. We would ask all of  you here and all of you watching to search your hearts and also forgive Karl Pierson. ...  (excerpt from Michael Davis' address at the memorial service for his daughter, 1/1/14)

The story of Claire Esther Davis' final moments is as tragic a tale as I can imagine. 

As one who interacts daily with teens, and who perceives both the fragility and the power of their stage of life, I could not stop thinking about this young woman's fate of crossing paths with a mentally unstable classmate who was armed to the hilt, in the hallway of Arapahoe High School on the second-to-last Friday before Winter Break.  And as she lay in her hospital bed, I led others in prayer for her recovery, beseeching God for an outcome of healing – even as I feared that this teen, who had already made such a bright name for herself, did not stand a chance of awakening from the bullet's fatal entry.

And then, to watch and read her father's courageous and poetic remarks at the memorial service held at the Western Stock Show Complex on New Year's Day, sent shivers up my spine.  For, truly, while anyone of our kids could have been an innocent victim of random and senseless violence, any one of us could have been his or her parent, left with the ordeal of either harboring anger or making peace with this unforeseen, unfair destiny. 

As Jews, we struggle with offering forgiveness to perpetrators of violent crimes.  At our most recent Selichot Eve Program (the official launch to the period of the Jewish Calendar known as the Season of Repentance), my colleague Rabbi Evette Luttman and I facilitated a discussion about forgiveness for crimes against humanity (e.g. the Holocaust), crimes of terrorism (e.g. September 11), and crimes of youth who have made horrific choices.  Furthermore, my students at Denver Jewish Day School (some of whom, ironically, are the same age as Claire) and I pored over the teachings of Rabbi Moses Maimonides regarding seeking forgiveness before Yom Kippur, Judaism's Day of Atonement.

Nearly every Jewish source agrees, that there must be an initiative taken by the sinner to confess and seek forgiveness from those whom he/she has wronged before the trangression is to be wiped away from one's personal record.

But other faith traditions, including Michael Davis', provide another means.  Guided by his witness, and under the wing of his pastor, Michael and his wife Desiree elected the path of love and compassion, that enabled them to let go of their anger before it got to the better of themselves.  While only some of us are capable of such determination, all of us can offer our respect and admiration.  In choosing to personalize his daughter's murderer, speak his name and publicly forgive him, Mr. Davis strove to create something constructive and inspiring from within the deepest torment of his life.  He begged us, his audience, to consider not our own, subjective response, but that of a more selfless doctrine.

I pray that the Davis Family continue to abide in their peaceful method of coping with their loss, that Michael and Desiree's marriage gain in strength, and that others in their midst will know the right moments to enter into support of them (as well as the correct moments to withdraw or just be silent).  They are our teachers for this traumatic chapter in local history.

In the context of our Torah reading this week, which incorporates the last three of the Ten Plagues set upon Egypt, the Midrash call the ninth plague of darkness “the darkness of Hell/Geihinnom,” and it connects the darkness that afflicted the Egyptians with the primordial darkness that existed before God said, “Let there be light!”  From this we learn that the punishment that awaits those who cannot truly see/recognize the dignity and humanity of others are destined for a greater darkness than that which was known to Pharaoh (cited from Etz Hayim Humash, pp. 376-7).

As the gathering at Claire's memorial service lit candles and made light amidst the chaos of their loss, may we be inspired to perpetuate the light of making peace with our neighbors ... and ourselves.