There is no question that many of us feel that the current political climate, the divisions across societal and cultural lines within our country, the ongoing violence around the globe in places like Gaza, Ukraine, and Sudan and, now, an assassination attempt on a former president, all indicate that we are in a unique and volatile moment in history. Some have made comments about this being an age of especially uncommon violence. And indeed, it is troubling and upsetting to open the papers or look at any news feed.

I believe this emotion and confusion create a moment for a heightened call for prayer: to confess, to repent, to intercede for our leaders, and to pray that the Evil one will be bound in the name of Jesus Christ.

This past Sunday as I was looking for more information about the assassination attempt on former President Trump, I also happened to be reading the introduction to The Imitation of Christ by Thomas á Kempis. Every morning, along with my Bible reading, I read a page either from the Philokalia, or from The Imitation. On this particular morning, as a historian, I decided to read the introduction of the latter, particularly about who Thomas was and his context.

I was shocked.

Thomas of Kempen (1380-1471, born in Kempen) lived ninety-one years. At the age of twenty he moved to study in Deventer, Netherlands with his older brother. Deventer, at the time, was the center of a renewal movement that was having a tremendous impact: the Brethren of the Common Life with their leader Gerard Groote (d. 1384). The Common Life movement was a lay movement that emphasized a commitment to community devotion one to another and to reading and meditating on Scripture (lectio divina). The spirituality of this movement, which Thomas embraced and robustly articulated in his own writings, became the hallmark of the spirituality and rhythms of life at the University of Paris, where Groote attended.

Much later both Jean Calvin and Ignatius of Loyola also attended the university, and while there they were strongly influenced by this brand of renewal spirituality, which focused on studying Scripture in the vernacular, living in humility like Christ, and serving others. This approach to spiritual formation was then called a Modern Devotion (Devotio Moderna). And, ironically—though the movement was of Catholic origin—the reforming impulses of Martin Luther and Jean Calvin (and Ignatius of Loyola) can be traced to this expression of Christian reform.

So why was I shocked when I read about the worldly context of Thomas? Because the circumstances he faced when writing his treatises very closely resembled the kind of social and political volatility we face in our times. He grew up in the shadow of the Great Plague—“Black Death”—(1346-1353) where about one-third of Europeans died; the economy was in shambles and people starved because crops could not be harvested. Whole cities and towns “died” and riots and revolutions grew in the wake of the social and economic upheaval. (The plague would return again and again every five or ten years during Thomas’ lifetime.)

Beyond that, Thomas lived during the “Great Schism” or the Western Schism (1378-1417) when the papacy was so divided that competing popes rallied soldiers to arms, killed cardinals, and gathered neighboring countries and rulers to support one of the two agents vying for the papacy: either Pope Urban VI (in Rome) or Clement VII (based in Avignon). Popes, antipopes, assassinations, and wars marked the religious landscape of this time, not to mention the great affluence of both the papacy in Rome and the luxurious palace in Avignon. The tumult and chaos of this time marks one of the lowest points in the history of Western Christianity.

We live in a very difficult time, but ours is not a unique time. This time, like Thomas’s, is a moment that calls for prayer. Since the curse of Genesis chapter three, human sin has bent human history toward death, division, and deception. The Old Testament is a tragic story. Yet, in so many ways it is also a beautiful story. Despite the violence and chaos, we see a God of love and compassion. This is still the case today, even as human sin drags history back through the mud and blood of time.

I believe we need a renewal in our time such as we have seen through the writings of Thomas á Kempis and Gerard Groote, even as they faced what we face: disease, divisions, deception, and violence.

It is not escapist to focus on imitating Christ when we face crisis points such as our society is experiencing today in the wake of so shocking an event. To the contrary, we ought to see such deep spiritual focus and formation as our duty amid such chaos. It is what our neighbors and our societies need, and it is what God requires. In this spirit, let us keep in our prayers the family of Corey Comperatore, the man who lost his life while protecting his wife and daughter from the spray of bullets.

Let us ponder, then, the opening words of Thomas’s The Imitation of Christ:

“He that follows me shall not walk in darkness but shall have the light of life.” [John 8:12] These are the words of Christ by which we are taught that it is only through conformity to his life and spirit that we can truly be enlightened and delivered from all blindness of heart; let it therefore be the principal employment of our minds to meditate on the life of Christ.

Dr. Scott W. Sunquist, President of Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary, is author of the “Attentiveness” blog. He welcomes comments, responses, and good ideas.