Several years ago, while speaking at a church where I was well-known and loved, I shared that many of our African American brothers and sisters in the body of Christ were hurting. I emphasized that when members of our spiritual family suffer, we must listen, care, and grieve alongside them. I expressed how deeply God cares that every person created in his image is treated with dignity, noting that racism is both a violation of God’s creative design and a contradiction of his universal love.
Despite these biblical truths, several people walked out of the service, accusing the message of being political. This reaction is a common risk when addressing injustice. However, embracing prophetic lament and solidarity remains essential, even when it is difficult.
The horrific deaths of Ahmaud Arbery and George Floyd—two African American men—captured in heartbreaking videos, serve as a sobering reminder of this reality. These videos show actions that no prior context could justify: one man hunted and surrounded, and another pinned down while pleading for breath. Such tragic events underscore the urgent need for church leadership in racial justice.
People should not be treated this way; must not be treated this way. God is grieved and his name is defamed as people he loves have their dignity and worth so terribly violated. This is not right. Obviously, the families and friends of these men are grieving deeply, but also those who have suffered through the pain of racism hurt terribly with each of these moments. But all of us should grieve. In the body of Christ, it should not only be our African American brothers and sisters who are hurting. We should all hurt.
Important sidenote: Declaring George Floyd’s death as unjust does not lower my view of police officers as a whole—men and women whom I respect tremendously who put their lives on the line to protect us and to serve us. Let me compare it to my own role. As a pastor, I also have deep respect for pastors. But my respect for pastors has not stopped me from grieving and speaking and writing when pastors have disqualified themselves because of deep character implosions. In fact, it is actually my respect for the role of pastor that has motivated me to confront or say, “This is not who we are.” In other words, speaking out about an injustice does not contradict my deep respect for the role.
Back to several years ago. As I drove home after preaching—thinking of those who were disgusted with my message so much that they had to leave—I was perplexed. I was perplexed at how there could be such a disconnect between seeing God as just and as justifier, between seeing God as the One who wants to make people right with himself, and also the One who insists that people are treated rightly. How can one “amen” when hearing about justification and scowl when hearing about justice? How can I, as a preacher, help people see the connection more clearly?
Tim Keller wrote, “To work against social injustice and to call people to repentance before God interlock theologically.” God wants us for himself, so much so that Christ came as our justification. Because we are so valued by him, he came to die. But the message of justice is equally true—that God insists that people, the crowning work of his creation, be treated with dignity, care and respect.
May we be a people who cares for both justification and justice. May we long for people to be made right with God and be treated rightly. And may we grieve with those who grieve.
This article originally appeared on EricGeiger.com and is reposted here by permission.
For more on the topic of racial reconciliation: outreachmagazine.com/racial-reconciliation
Read Brenda Salter McNeil on the powerful witness of solidarity here.
Read Efrem Smith on how Christians can seek transformation, reconciliation, justice and healing in these deeply divided times here.
Read Bryan Loritts on why diversity is not a fringe issue here.
Read Brenda Salter McNeil on why pursuing reconciliation is essential to the gospel here.