John Buttrick writes from his Vermont Folk Rocker in his Concord home, Minds Crossing. He can be reached at [email protected]

Donald Trump, the candidate for president of the United States, said in a recent campaign speech that this election is “a choice between strength and weakness.” Later, when he was shot in the ear, he showed his understanding of strength. “As the officers began to escort Mr. Trump from the stage to safety, he shouted, ‘Wait, wait, wait, wait,’ and then made a point of raising his fist toward the crowd and appearing to defiantly shout, ‘Fight! Fight!’ The crowd roared and responded with chants of ‘USA! USA!’” His strength was defiance. It was an impulsive response to his injury, an act that carried the crowd along with him.

If we give Mr. Trump the benefit of the doubt, his spontaneous aggressive resistance and the crowd’s reaction may have been the result of the shock of the shooting. But over time, some people, both party members and those without affiliation, became convinced that the anger, the meanness, the blame, and the hateful rhetoric could not continue during a presidential campaign. These things only perpetuate a culture of aggression and gun violence that is plaguing the country and threatening its political leaders and their families.

The reality is that these actions, rather than showing strength, reveal weakness fueled by fear and hidden behind bluff. For many followers of this culture, guilt and conspiracy theories assuage their fears. Change is difficult because few people are willing to admit weakness or sever a relationship with a perceived winning coercive force.

It is possible, however, to use this shooting as a way to motivate restorative human emotions and responses. For example, we have heard little about the others who were shot during the attack on presidential candidate Trump. It is indeed frightening to realize that his death was narrowly missed. But it is also deeply disturbing and heartbreaking to think about the death of one rally attendee and the serious injuries of two others, a Republican and a Democrat. Corey Comperatore, 50, a father of two daughters, worked for a plastics company and was a volunteer firefighter. He was fatally shot in the head after diving for family members who were accompanying him to the rally. David Dutch, 57, of New Kensington, Pa., and James Copenhaver, 74, of Moon Township, Pa. were in critical but stable condition at the time of this writing at Allegheny General Hospital in Pittsburgh. Moreover, this tragedy included the death of the shooter.

It takes strength to face the tragedy with compassion and empathy, with a refusal to ever continue a violent response to aggressive attitudes. It takes strength of character to offer condolences to Comperatore’s family. It takes self-control to avoid placing blame for the tragedy. And it takes the strong faith of empathy and prayer for the gravely injured, David Dutch and James Copenhaver. It takes strength to avoid revenge and retaliation while trying to unite over a common tragedy – a Democrat and a Republican were gravely injured that fateful day.

The greatest strength of all is beyond the weights and gym machines. It surpasses the pumping of the fist, the bluffing of accusations, conspiracy theories and self-aggrandizement. The real issue is not whether someone is strong or weak, but rather the kind of strength they use.

Perhaps this near-death experience of Mr. Trump, the death of Mr. Comperatore, and the serious injuries of Mr. Dutch and Mr. Copenhaver will awaken in many people the latent impulse to listen, to seek understanding, to reject reasons for violence, and to respect each other. There has been much speculation about how this shooting will affect the outcome of the presidential election. A more appropriate speculation, however, would be about the possible ways in which the shooting will strengthen the integrity of the electorate: never again make room in our lives for violence in any form: words, threats, or actions.