In Your Anger, Look to Jesus
Outrage can be an honest response to evil. It can't be a permanent one.
It was while I was rocking my young son to sleep. That was when the weight of Charlie Kirk’s murder really landed on me. Charlie was a Christian. He was an extremely effective political activist. Those things have long been well-known.
He was also a husband.
And a father.
Millions have already weighed in on this young man’s death. Many with raw, visceral emotion. Some with grace and dignity. And yes, some with bile.
But for me, late Wednesday night, in the dark and quiet of my kids’ bedroom, there were neither hot takes nor tributes. There was only the weight of the child I held. And this thought: Charlie’s kids won’t get to drift off to sleep in their father’s arms again.
Thursday morning we woke up to 9/11. It’s been twenty-four years since the towers went down, since that day when terrorists killed thousands.
Anger is an honest response to evil. Sometimes, in the face of unmistakable wickedness, it feels like the only fitting reaction.
“Be angry,” the psalmist tells us. And then he adds four confounding words, “and do not sin.”1
Anger’s grip can feel strangely satisfying. But if you surrender to it, it will eventually do one of two things to you. Either it will fade, leaving you empty and exhausted.
Or it won’t. And then it will corrode your soul.
Like anger, our technology holds us captive to moments of destruction. The same images of violence flash across our screens again and again. For a time, that split-second of horror seems inescapable.
And then it’s gone. And you’re left trying to figure out how it could possibly have taken a couple of decades with it.
The kids who lost their parents on 9/11 have become adults. Many of them have children of their own now.
What kind of America are we going to pass on to their generation?
Sit with that a moment.
What will our families look like in twenty years? What about our communities? Our churches?
The answer to all of these questions depends what we choose to do with the days to come. It depends how we fill the weeks, the months, and the years ahead.
Our choices matter. Our prayers matter2.
Jesus matters.
When she was still alive, my grandmother wrote me many cards. There were handwritten birthday cards and Christmas cards. There were just saying hello cards. Back in my days of unbelief, she’d now and then include the note, “Don’t forget about Jesus.”
Are there a thousand reasons why America, today, is a shell of the country many of us remember? Are there countless explanations for why our future suddenly seems so fearful? Yes and yes.
And beneath them all, there’s one.
We forgot about Jesus.
Many simply abandoned church. Tens of millions, as it turns out. Others stayed, but remade Jesus according to their liking. For some, he became a lovey-dovey soul who would never pass judgment on anyone. For others, he was a prizefighter, ready to verbally pound anyone your Christian clique deemed impure. For yet others, he became an idea, a dry, well-formulated concept, ready to be dusted off whenever you longed to feel intelligent. Others made Jesus into a therapist, a politician, a life coach, an entrepreneur. I could go on.
Without question, some have distorted Jesus more severely than others. But if you’re reading this, you’re likely aware of that. That’s because call-out culture now dominates online Christian conversation. Of course, it’s a good thing if you have the courage to have a heartfelt conversation with a friend who’s drifting into error. But the non-stop, algorithm-fueled panic over the supposed impurity of the wrong kind of believer is something else entirely. It has, itself, become a snare to millions.
Less comfortable, but far wiser, is the path of responsibility and repentance. All of us live in an age where Satan “prowls about like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.” Every one of us faces the temptation to twist who Jesus Christ really is. And that sinister pull, I believe, will only increase in the months and years to come.
So starting next week, I’m inviting you to rediscover the true Jesus. By reading just a chapter a day, you’ll finish the four gospel accounts before Christmas. That’s a walk through Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, at a very do-able pace.
Only about 10% of Americans read the Bible daily. So even if you’re someone who regularly digs into Scripture, you surely know someone who needs to experience the story of Jesus. Bible sales were way up last year. In its painful way, this world is pressing more people to ask the questions that matter. Many simply need that invitation. Maybe it will come from you.
I’ve shared the plan below. On its face, yes, it’s just another Bible reading plan. But through the posts I’ll be including along the way, you’ll find something more. It won’t just be an invitation to read Scripture. It will include ways to pray in response to Jesus’ story. I’ll be showing you how to immerse more and more of your life in the Word that reveals who Jesus is.
The plan kicks off next Tuesday. So for now, save it or print it out. Look it over, pray about it. And think about who you could invite to look into the face of Jesus.
Psalm 4:4, Ephesians 4:26
I was struck this week by this quote by R.C. Sproul from Does Prayer Change Things?
“The mind of God does not change for God does not change. Things change, and they change according to His sovereign will, which He exercises through secondary means and secondary activities.
The prayer of His people is one of the means He uses to bring things to pass in this world.
So if you ask me whether prayer changes things, I answer with an unhesitating ‘Yes!’” (emphasis mine)
I live about an hour from that bridge. Thanks for the post.