Have you noticed how nearly every time there is a mass murder like the Connecticut school shootings it seems the shooter is described as a “loner” or “dressed in goth” or in some other way that indicates they were perhaps on the fringe, or marginalized? I have a suggestion that I think will reduce these kinds of incidents. I hope my own daughters will pay attention to what I’ve written, and if you like it, that you’ll share it with your kids, too.

How might it be different if we took note of the “odd” kid who is at the fringe of the group, and invited them to its center? Oh, I understand that the guy with pimples and hair hanging down in his eyes isn’t “cool” enough to be in your group. But what if you invited him to sit at your table for lunch anyway? What if you asked about his family? His dog? What he was interested in? Do you think there’s any chance you might be throwing him a lifeline that would save him and others?

Maybe!

When I was young I wanted to be cool as badly as anyone else. I still do, but I didn’t ever quite arrive at “cool” when I was young and my teenaged daughters are quick to remind me that I’m not cool today. However, in college, I was more in the “in” crowd than not, and I’m grateful that I was able to get over myself just enough to be at least welcoming and inclusive to people who definitely weren’t cool.

I remember Bill. What I  remember about him is that Bill was an engineering student. He was dorky tall and skinny, talked like an alien with a nasal blockage, wore black horn-rimmed glasses and had bad acne. Bill was the kind of guy who came in the room and stood on the wall away from the crowd. I remember reaching out to Bill and talking to him. He never made it to the center of the “in” group, but at least he wasn’t ignored and anonymous.

I remember Amy. Same story as Bill. She may have even been his sister, I can’t recall.

Then there was Jeff. He had long greasy hair under a dirty John Deere cap. He wore thick glasses, had bad pimples, never looked anyone in the eye, and mumbled when he talked. Jeff wasn’t cool. I didn’t really want to be his friend. But Jeff and I did have one thing in common: we were both seniors in college flunking freshman algebra. So there we sat together on the back row listening to a Teaching Assistant from Godknowswhere jabbering in an unintelligible tongue while writing undecipherable algebraic equations on the board.

I befriended Jeff. Nothing big. He never came over the my apartment. He probably never met any of my friends. I just talked to him; I treated him as human. I tried to be a bridge across which Jesus could walk and reach out to a guy who I was pretty sure was being ignored by everybody else.

Fast forward three or four years and my phone rang, it was Jeff from Algebra. He said “Do you remember me?” Yes, I did. He was wondering if he could have a meeting with me. Oh great! I thought. Now he’s God’s gift to multilevel marketing and I’m the only guy whose ever talked to him and I’m going to have to set through his presentation. Cautiously I asked what we’d be meeting about and he blurted out “I was wondering whether you could tell me how to be saved?”

YES! Yes, I could. In fact, I was available for a meeting that very morning.

A few hours later I met Jeff in a local restaurant. I didn’t get to lead him to Jesus, he’d gone and bought Billy Graham’s book “How to be Born Again” and had already asked Christ into his life. But I did get to talk with him about what had already transpired, help him understand what it meant, and got to send him into the rest of his life with some basics about how to begin growing in his faith. I never saw him again. But some 30 years later my heart is warmed that apparently I’d acted like a Jesus follower just enough that when Jeff wanted to talk about Jesus, he knew to call me.

I don’t know what ever became of Jeff.

I don’t know what happened to Bill.

I don’t know what became of Amy.

But I do know that for a time in their life I was a friend, they got to sit at my table, and while it wasn’t the coolest table, at least they were no longer socially ostracized. They were welcome.

You want to do something to reduce violence and the risk of a shooting at your school? Make an extra place at the table for the kid who is a loner, then invite them to sit with you.

My daughters, and other young folks, I understand that you are cool, and that you want to be with cool people like you. I know that “they” are weird and creepy, and that you don’t necessarily want to hang with them. But I also know that they’d be welcome a Jesus’ table, and they ought to be at yours. I’m not asking you to make them BFFs. I’m just asking you to be decent and treat them as human. Get over yourself just briefly enough to ask this simply question “How would I want to be treated if I were them?” or even better “How would Jesus treat them?” and then do accordingly.

A little kindness goes along way. It might open the door for you to lead them to Jesus. At the very least it might release the pressure of isolation and shine enough light into their life that it prevents an enraged school shooting.

When we call ourselves Christians we take on responsibilities. One of those is to include people like Jeff, Bill, Amy, and Adam Lanza. If they aren’t welcomed at your table, it probably means you aren’t sitting at His.