I’m Learning to Weep with Those Who Weep

I use words all the time.  My calling and my vocation demand the use of words.  I write, speak, and persuade, I offer encouragement, exhortation, challenge, and hopefully comfort with…words.  I have never lacked for words, and often I am more careless with my words than I will ever realize.  However, finding the words to talk about the tragic death of George Floyd and the hurt and pain my black brothers and sisters are experiencing have escaped me.  Maybe it’s because I haven’t fully processed the events of the past two weeks.  Maybe it’s because I have never had to deal with the topic of racism, justice, hurt, pain, and a host of other adjectives and emotions our nation is experiencing at the level I am experiencing now. I still don’t seem to have the words needed, and I don’t know what to say, but I want to begin to find those words.

A couple of days ago, I opened my bible, along with my journal, and offered a simple but heartfelt prayer.  “Jesus, my heart is open, my mind is open, my hands are open, and my ears are open.  Speak, I am listening.” I believe this is the posture I need and want to have, a posture of listening. Maybe I talk so much that I haven’t heard the pain and heart of my brothers and sisters, but I want to.  As I have searched my heart and prayed for the church I lead to search their hearts, there are four things I want to do, and I hope my church will do in the wake of the death of George Floyd.

I want to have meaningful conversations about race and equality

I want to have real, authentic, and meaningful conversations with my black friends about race and equality, and I don’t want these conversations to be mainly a dialogue.  Instead, I want to listen.  I have had discussions and conversations about prejudice and injustice, but have I heard my brother and sister?  Have I come to the conversation in a state of empathy and compassion for my fellow man?  Have I offered a safe place for a friend to talk?  James states that we are to “be quick to hear, slow to speak” (James 1:19). I admit I get James’ words out of order; I am quick to speak and slow to hear. But this time, I want to hear.  I want to understand the racial divide in our nation not only from my point of view but from my black neighbor’s point of view.  I don’t want to stop there.  I want a church that loves people so much and takes their discipleship so seriously that they would not let history, heritage, prejudice, or any other obstacle hinder their desire to carry the love of Christ to their neighbor. 

I want to understand justice the way God does

Two weeks ago, I addressed the death of George Floyd from the pulpit on a Sunday morning.  During the introduction of my sermon, I quoted Micah 6:8, “He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”  I quoted this verse, but have I grasped the weight of its declaration?  God has made it clear what is good and right.  He is kind, His Son is good, His Spirit is good.  I can be good and do good because of my union with Christ.  From the beginning, God has been and always will be a champion for justice.  The question is, will I understand justice the way he does?  Will I sacrifice and seek justice for my neighbor? Will I be an example of justice for my children and the next generation?  Will I seek justice when it is not the norm, when the rest of the world is quiet?  Will I feel a call to action when I see injustice? These are the questions I face during this time.

I want to do good, seeking justice, and balancing it with kindness.  One of my prayers during this time has been, “God don’t let my heart become hard, nor develop a cynical attitude about the state of the world.”  It is easy to become cynical, critical, and uncaring in a crisis.  Perhaps, the remedy is kindness.  Paul writes in Ephesians 4:31-32, these words, “Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as Christ forgave you.”  I want to have a passion for justice, with a voice and heart of kindness.

I want to mourn and stay there a while

I admit that I don’t know if I am here yet.  Mourning isn’t something you can manufacture nor something you can educate yourself to do.  Mourning comes when you lose something your heart was wrapped around.  Before the death of George Floyd, my heart was not wrapped around the injustice so many African Americans face each day, but it’s beginning to, and in that, I am experiencing hope.   I want my conversations over the coming days, months, and years to shape my heart, where I not only understand what my fellow man is going through, but I stop long enough to hurt and mourn with them.  Not only do I want to grieve, but I want to stay there for a while.  I don’t want to move on to the next “crisis” or the next breaking news bulletin.  I want my church to mourn and understand the pain of injustice and hurt.  It’s biblical to grieve and hurt with someone even though you are not experiencing their pain.  Romans 12:15-16a states to “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another.”  I want myself and our church to experience the harmony between others brought by the gospel.  To have this harmony, we must learn to experience the emotions of another.  It is a good thing to slow down and love enough to stay, stay in the hurt, remain in the grief, and stay because love is greater than hate, and the gospel is greater than our sin, past, present, and future.

I want the gospel to flourish

During this time of crisis and pain, my hope is in the gospel of Jesus Christ.  I believe God is at work in many ways, and I don’t want to miss the opportunity to proclaim the glorious riches of Christ, my Lord.  I don’t want to miss seeing revival sweep across the church and our country.  I want to be a catalyst for real heart level change, which only the gospel message brings. What do I mean by the gospel?  When I say the word gospel, which means good news, I don’t mean the good news that an organization, political party, or agenda promises. When I say good news, I am not talking about sweeping social change or financial prosperity.  The good news is not even when we see peace and harmony in our nation for a short period, and then we go back to normal.  I don’t want the norm. I want the change in the human heart that only the gospel can bring. 

Our society is in a place to hear good news, and we are the heralds.  The good news we bring is a message of hope and peace, a message of love, and the defeat of death and the grave.  The good news we bring is bound to one man, the only man in whom hope is found.  He lived a perfect life, died a gruesome, violent death on a Roman cross yet conquered death and rose on the third day.  The message stays the same, and I believe it’s the message my church and I have to live, love, and share.  There is no hope for humanity outside of Jesus.

May His gospel flourish!

Pastor Kevin

Affirmed by the Elders and Management Team of Fellowship Community Church