Start with Sorrow

We face tragedy in our world today on a regular basis. While many of us living in the West do not directly experience tragedy as a result of our situations in life, we hear about many, many tragedies in the era of television and internet.

100 years ago, small tragedies (and by small, I mean tragedies that affected one or a handful of people) would likely not be heard about by anyone outside of the town where it occurred. But today when there is a case of parental abuse, a shooting, a hate crime or any other kind of tragedy, we may learn of it. Each day brings the opportunity for any number of small tragedies to come to our attention.

As a result, we need to be better prepared to respond to tragedy, for we never know when we will be thrown into the midst of it. And let me qualify that I’m not equating learning of tragedy with experiencing it. Those who lived through wars know of suffering I will likely (and hopefully) never fully understand. Reading Man’s Search for Meaning was powerful and moving.

Ours is a challenge to process tragedy in the midst of relative comfort. And from what I have observed, we often struggle with it.

In my experience, the loudest voices on social media and television — particularly on that scourge of humanity known as 24 hour news — following a tragedy are those of blame, scorn, and revenge.

Responding to the tragedy of the Coronavirus and its associated economic damage are those looking for whom to punish.

Responding to the tragedy of Ahmaud Arbery are some who call for blood.

Responding to the tragedy of recurring mass shootings are those who immediately accuse the opposing political party for being at fault (both sides do this.)

Now, am I saying that when we face tragedy, we should do nothing? Is it wrong to seek what justice humans are able to bring to injustice? Are we wrong to call for and work for political reform where it is out of balance? Do we simply abdicate and accept tragedy with a sad shrug? Assuredly not.

But it is essential that we begin properly. This is something many have forgotten in a world where the first one on TV, or the first one to post an article, or the first one to flood social media channels has an opportunity to control a narrative. These knee jerk initial offers lead to immediate reaction, and the merry-go-round of angry words spins out of control for yet another day.

Those who profit off such things (owners of television networks, owners of websites, owners of social media platforms,) surely rejoice. For such is the lifeblood of their income source. Eyeballs mean money, and angry people bring eyeballs in droves.

I implore you to reject all of this at the outset.

Start, instead, with sorrow.

Weep with those who weep, as the Apostle Paul tells us.

In fact, we see this in the very ministry of Jesus.

John tells of a time when one of Jesus’ best friend dies. When he arrives at the tomb of Lazarus, he has been dead four days. When Jesus sees the emotional pain Mary, the sister of Lazarus, is in, and hears the wailing of people who have been affected by this small tragedy, we are told that he was “deeply moved in spirit and troubled.”

After this, he doesn’t rage or rail. He doesn’t blame or threaten.

He cried.

He started with sorrow. He let compassion lead the way.

After this, he takes action. But not before. Amazingly, he knew what action he would take, but he still responded by connecting emotionally with those who were affected. Why not show up and flippantly dismiss their crying? Because weeping with those who weep is part of the Kingdom of God.

A few years ago, Annapolis Maryland suffering a mass shooting. Wanting details, I turned to twitter, as no traditional news media had any information to offer. I was appalled by what I found: before the bodies were even cold, the event was filled with people blaming political parties. It was a moment that demanded sorrow first, but many had skipped it and in so doing, lost their humanity; the humanity given to us by God and embraced by God in the person of Jesus standing before the tomb of a common, ordinary man.

When we rush past that in an effort to control narratives, or get clicks we are selling our souls in an effort to gain a world that nobody would want to own anyways.

I want our nation to make long overdue changes after what happened to Ahmaud Arbery. But first I must grieve for his death.

I put up a post on social media and was unsurprised when argument broke out in the comments. I understand that such stories provoke emotions in many directions. But if we can’t unite in sorrow for what has been lost, there isn’t the slightest chance that we can work toward something better.

We are called to be ambassadors of the Kingdom of Heaven on this world.

Perhaps that involves social and political work.

Perhaps that requires speaking truth and wisdom to those in power.

But I believe without a doubt it must include demonstrating how to face tragedy without losing the humanity Jesus demonstrated.

The world doesn’t need any more angry voices. Tirades, outrage, threats and perhaps even lawsuits usually follow loss. But what the world sure could use more of is people who are still willing to weep when they hear of tragedy. But I can only ensure that with one voice: my own.

So rather than an angry rant, I simply invite you to join me in being ready to weep when we learn of the next tragedy, so that we may be ready to do the work God has called us to do: inviting those in pain to find healing in the presence of God. That’s impossible to do when you’re yelling at someone else.