Sunday started as a good day. Our church worshiped Jesus together. We celebrated as several people became members, and as five people were baptized. We enjoyed a picnic lunch in the playground behind the school where we meet on Sunday mornings.
Sunday continued to be a good day, as we drove home and listened to a bit of music while everyone was in generally good spirits. Shortly after arriving home, my middle daughter and I drove over to the local hardware store to get a few bags of mulch, which now sit in the garage until it’s time to use them on the front garden bed and the miraculously still living maple tree in our yard.
The moment the day turned
Then I started to read the report. The SBC Sex Abuse Task Force Report. A massive 288 page document with 100+ additional pages of appendices. Outlining the extent of the SBC Executive Committee’s monumental failure to address sexual abuse within the denomination.
I struggled for a while after that.
I will admit, I still haven’t finished reading it. Despite being fairly realistic about humanity’s propensity for self-deception, the report gutted me. And it brought to the surface a whole host of emotions. Sorrow for victims. Anger toward predators and those who gave them cover. Concern for people I know and care about who work for various entities. Even a degree of gratitude for myself and my family because we were spared the heartache of some very difficult conversations I am certain many friends will have in the weeks ahead.
12 Words We Need Right Now
Later in the day, my roiling feelings burst forth and I yelled at one of my kids for what was a completely foolish reason. It was uncalled for. Entirely.
I knew it almost as soon as it happened.
And I admitted it.
I asked for everyone’s forgiveness. They were gracious and forgave me, but it didn’t change that it happened. It didn’t change the discomfort or the tears that were welling up in my oldest child’s eyes.
Then Emily encouraged me to talk about my inappropriately angry outburst.
So I did. I told them about the report and what it said in as age-appropriate a way as I could. As we talked, one of my daughtersâmy 12-year-oldâsaid something profound: “Well, the fact that you’re angry about this, even if it didn’t come out in the right way, means that your heart is working right. You should be angry about these things.”
Those last twelve words, from my 12-year-old⌠man. They’re so important to remember. Our responses to sin are not always going to come out right, especially in the face of great evil. Especially when people who entrusted with aiding gospel mission are shown to be actively hindering it.
But that doesn’t mean your anger is wrong. Don’t let anyone say that it is. Because it isn’t.
It is right to be angry about these things. To wrestle with what to do about them.
Because God is angry about them too. And He will bring about justice on behalf of those who have suffered and continue to suffer. And while there is more to say, and more to consider about how to respond to this particular report, for the moment I can take comfort in those words my daughter shared:
My heart is working right.
I should be angry about these things.
And it’s okay for you to be too.
