Month: September 2025

Forever (Holy)

Posted on by bradlichtman

Like maybe 100 million others … perhaps more by now … I tuned in to the Charlie Kirk Memorial on Sunday. To say that it was moving is a vast understatement. Just the day before, I was struggling with the enormity of his loss. And, while I still struggle and grieve, something clicked inside of me by the conclusion.

I was overwhelmed by Hope.

Not just with but by. (There is a distinction.)

Overwhelmed to the point of tears.

For any of you who might be reading this, you probably know something about my abrupt and wholesale transformation just over twenty years ago. Perhaps some of you have read my thematic autobiography that chronicles everything up to and following that unique moment.

For whatever reason, God has given me glimpses into his realm, via the audible, the visual, the head and heart. Given all of this, I can’t help but commit to Holy Forever.

Which is the close to the title of one of the worship songs, the entirety of which covered about two hours before the speakers took over on Sunday. And, listening to it again, last night, I was drawn to write on a piece of the song because it resonated so beautifully in my experience.

Now, rewind the tape of my life some fifty-eight years. I was thirteen at the time (I recounted this in great detail in my book), when the earth first shifted for me.

Growing up in a home without any religion to speak of … no prayers … no talk about God … no church … just a lot of mind and intellectualization … I was wholly unprepared for a watershed moment to arrive unbidden while in the seventh grade. By that point, I was a fairly accomplished young violinist, ensconced in my junior high school orchestra, serving as a third chair first violinist, when my teacher suggested I might be able to transfer my instrumental music skills to the voice. So, shortly thereafter, I found myself standing on the risers with other students who participated after school in the junior high school choir. 

I have related what happened hundreds of times, I suspect.

But to cut to the chase, while scratching out my voice, while sight-reading the score, I was no longer there.

I was, instead, suspended in a vast space, dark, but punctuated with millions of points of light, all surrounding me. And from each point of light, there was sound. It was singing. No discernible lyrics but pure transcendent sound.

I was surrounded by unimaginable beauty and realized my voice had joined theirs. And, yes, it actually happened.

I had no context for this except thinking these were probably angels, something I’d never thought much about except to see them on Christmas cards or on top of Christmas trees.

But that only came from later reflection because the sound permeated every fiber of my being. The only way to truly describe it was that I was the sound … I belonged there and was filled with joy, never having heard or experienced anything close to it before.

I only told one person at the time, my mother (who was not particularly loving but very particularly judgmental), of what happened. After I “returned” to the risers and raced home from school because I was bursting with the news, I burst through the front door and cried, “Mother, I just sang with all of the angels!” To which she immediately replied, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

I didn’t sing again for thirty-eight more years.

But I never let the memory fade because it was overwhelmingly powerful … completely out of place but achingly authentic. I knew there was an Other.

Fast forward to Sunday and the song that shares the title with this post.

Holy Forever.

I will provide a link to the song at the end of this post but here are the lyrics:

A thousand generations falling down in worship
To sing the song of ages to the Lamb
And all who’ve gone before us and all who will believe
Will sing the song of ages to the Lamb

Your name is the highest
Your name is the greatest
Your name stands above them all
All thrones and dominions
All powers and positions
Your name stands above them all

And the angels cry holy
All creation cries holy
You are lifted high, holy
Holy forever

If you’ve been forgiven and if you’ve been redeemed
Sing the song forever to the Lamb
If you walk in freedom and if you bear His name
Sing the song forever to the Lamb
We’ll sing the song forever and amen

And the angels cry holy
All creation cries holy
You are lifted high, holy
Holy forever

Hear Your people sing holy
To the King of kings, holy
You will always be holy
Holy forever

Your name is the highest
Your name is the greatest
Your name stands above them all
All thrones and dominions
All powers and positions
Your name stands above them all

Jesus
Your name is the highest
Your name is the greatest
Your name stands above them all (oh, stands above)
All thrones and dominions
All powers and positions
Your name stands above them all

And the angels cry holy
All creation cries holy
You are lifted high, holy
Holy forever (we cry holy, holy, holy)

Hear Your people sing (we will sing) holy
To the King of kings (holy), holy (holy is the Lord)
You will always be holy
Holy forever

You will always be holy
Holy forever

Yes, the lyrics speak volumes but it’s the music that cuts straight to the heart. And to my first direct interaction with the Holy forty-eight years ago.

And the Angels cry Holy. All creation cries Holy. You are lifted high, holy, holy forever.

And I cry Holy along with all creation. And I will keep crying it forever.

Because that’s where God and mankind are designed to meet and interact. To interact with something called Holy.

To risk a play on words … Holy is wholly Perfect, wholly Beautiful, wholly Loving, wholly magnificent, wholly Powerful, wholly Good, wholly Just, wholly forgiving, wholly overflowing with Grace.

And Jesus is at that exact point of connection, something I dismissed as mythological for decades, even though I “knew” there was something just on the other side of the veil. Something beyond human comprehension. Something where Love and Beauty reigned. Something with what and whom I could connect and in a place where I belonged.

Yes, I unabashedly and unapologetically claim that Jesus is the Lord. His name is the highest, his name is the greatest, his name stands above them all. To which the angels and those of us who have awoken to the perfect reality of who he is and why he came, cry Holy, Holy, Holy.

He is my Lord. He is Diane’s Lord. He is the Lord of hundreds of people I know and of countless millions across our country and around the globe. And, yes, the concept of Lordship will probably seem anachronistic to “enlightened” moderns many of whom are largely atheists or agnostics who call themselves “spiritual” but not religious. It implies hierarchy and that doesn’t quite mesh with this vague claim that we are all “equal.”

Sure, in the sense we are all children of God, who views each of us as deserving of limitless love, we are equal. But we are not equal with God. He is wholly Other. The author of our creation, the author of our salvation.

To which, for those of us who really, really believe this, we are left with nothing other than to cry Holy, Holy, Holy, invited into an eternity of beauty and joy. An eternity in resurrected bodies, to live in the full renewal of all of creation.

So, while I did not hear words when I sang with angels, perhaps it was because I would not understand them at that time. But I did know music and I did know that I could make beautiful music come from a wooden instrument.

The millions and I could just as clearly have been singing Holy, Holy, Holy.

Amen.

For some reason, WordPress and YouTube are not allowing me to embed the link. All you have to do in YouTube is search for

Kari Jobe Forever Live

It’s a recording from 11 years ago with 80 million views.

Or you can find it on Spotify easily.

There are other renditions by other artists on YouTube and Spotify. But I’m choosing to link this one because it was the one that touched me on Sunday and, again, last night.

I urge you to listen.

Blessings,

Brad

Love and Wrath: Two Sides of the Same Coin

Posted on by bradlichtman

A dichotomy is a concept normally used to describe two things that are related but opposite.

A paradox is something akin to two concepts that seem to be self-contradictory but true.

I’m not sure if I am living within these spaces right now but if sure feels like it.

My heart loves deeply but, simultaneously, I feel deep anger. What does that say? What do these emotions say about my commitment to follow Jesus?

There is this misconception in our modern comprehension of Jesus that presents him as soft. As merely the Lamb of God. The airbrushed depictions of him (light colored hair, with sheep and children at his feet), depicts him as some kind of gentle soul.

Which, of course, he is.

But that hardly presents the whole picture. Jesus is also the Lion of Judah.

In fact, he is God. God made man. Emmanuel. God with us.

And God, the omniscient, omnipresent, all powerful being in whose image we are created, cannot be airbrushed.

After all, while he is Love Itself, he is also Truth and Justice Itself. And this is something that moderns just don’t understand. 

He is a God of Wrath.

This past seven days have been the most tumultuous for our country since the awful attack in 2001. But this is different by an order of magnitude. Following 9/11, it seems our entire nation was unified, even for a relatively short period of time. Not so now. We are clearly a divided people, large swaths of which hold diametrically opposing visions of who and what we should be.

I fundamentally believe that we are in a clash of civilizations, although those on the other side from my own have a different concept of what “civilization” even means. You can’t be nihilists (those who reject all religious and moral principles who also believe that life is meaningless) and civilized at the same time. Not all of those on the opposite side from where I stand are nihilists, but they do reject many of the historical religious and moral principles that have shaped our world for the past half millennia and even before.

All of this brings me to this point. How do I live my life as a committed follower of Jesus who teaches us to embody the fundamental character of God while we live in a broken and fallen world? 

If we truly believe that God is equally loving and just … then there is nothing wrong with feeling anger towards evil and injustice. We are taught to hold these two seemingly opposite thoughts and feelings in balance.

Not an easy thing to do.

God hates evil. That’s a fact. He knows it destroys his creation … that Evil acts diametrically opposed to his Will.

Evil is “grooming” children by telling them it’s just fine if they want to mutilate themselves because they think and feel that they were born into the wrong body.

Evil says unborn human beings are just clumps of cells and tissue with no intrinsic value.

Evil says that those who prey on the weak in our society through acts of violence are just “misguided” and are merely “misunderstood.” They are the true victims and don’t deserve justice and punishment. That their victims are actually oppressors and “deserve” what they get.

Evil says it’s ok to celebrate the brazen and public murder of a kind and loving husband and father who just asked questions about principles and sought civil discussion. Evil makes up lies about things he said because it is afraid of the truth. Evil laughs at such a life because it has no other defense.

Those that follow such evil are like water descending in a sink, circling the drain. There is nothing left but the darkness of the hole they have dug for themselves.

That is the ultimate reality. The nature of Evil is to deceive. To lie. To draw our focus away from Truth itself, our Creator, in whose image we are made, even as we are free to choose its opposite. 

I know this with every fiber of my being, although it took five decades to get there and it’s only been two decades since. I always knew that evil was an actual thing, but I could never point to its origin. It all makes sense now.

Wrath can be defined as extreme anger. How could God not “feel” extreme anger at the force that sets out to destroy the beauty of his creation?

Yes, there is a supernatural battle going on that is far greater and in more vivid detail than we can possibly see. I shared this perspective this morning in a group prayer setting: The Enemy sees us as pawns to play in its demonic battle against Good. However, God sees us as his sons and daughters, adopted into the family business of restoring that broken creation. We are kings and queens on that cosmic chess board, make no mistake. He has, via love and grace, adorned us with the royal robe of righteousness and put on our fingers the signet rings that demonstrate we will inherit his Kingdom. (Luke 15:22). 

Surely, there has been rejoicing in heaven that we can only imagine, now that Charlie is welcomed there in glory. Yes, a life was snuffed out by evil. But let the Enemy learn that, from such unspeakable event, the army of God has only been strengthened.

Save me a place at the banquet table, Charlie, for that time I can meet you face to face and say thank you.

Lord, please give me the strength and wisdom to carry out your Will. Please guard my heart that is really angry right now … so that it does not turn hard and into contempt, for that is not loving. I know that anger is completely justified when its object is evil. You have called me to be your son but, also, a member of your army. Help me to find my role in all of that when the pathway can seem cloudy. Let your truth break into me with the help of the Holy Spirit. Let me never forget that you are equally Love and Justice and that both will prevail. Nothing, absolutely nothing, can stand against that. And nothing can separate me from you. Thank you, Jesus. Amen.

Attached: An AI depiction of the Great Battle. Archangel vs. the Demonic. This is real.

The Power of Today’s Call

Posted on by bradlichtman

I have posted hundreds of reflections on this site since the beginning in 2016. I have never spoken through the lens of politics. I have only endeavored to speak the truth as I see it.

These past few days have been very hard for me as they’ve been for many tens of millions of others, both in America and around the world.

They killed someone who is a better man than I.

Yes, I use “they” even though it was a single person who carried out a vile and evil act. But that assassin did so because he was influenced by thousands of voices who compare people like Charlie or Trump to Hitler.

It’s a classic philosophical challenge: “If you were transported back in time to the 1920s and came across Adolph Hitler, after he wrote Mein Kampf but before he gained his total control of Germany and proceeded to kill millions of people, would you shoot him?”

This is the voice that is being taught in our schools and universities and then reverberates throughout mainstream and social media. The result is the attempt to galvanize a mass armada of young people to see conservative opposition as evil and it therefore becomes their duty to engage in violence of some form.

Be it silencing their voices on college campuses or, even, threatening and assaulting them on those campuses and out in public. 

It is insane.

Whatever one thinks of Donald Trump (as flawed an individual he might be … and I know many self-proclaimed conservatives that cringe at some of the things he has done), he is not Hitler.

Nor is and was Charlie Kirk. People who say this are plain stupid and ignorant. They have no way to think independently … to examine history and the many forces that have shaped it.

Their stated goal is to tear down the values that have shaped western civilization and brought prosperity to billions. Values like freedom of speech (please read about what is happening in the UK). Values like stable families are the bedrock of successful communities. Values that see everyone as individuals with inalienable rights that come from God. Values that protect religious liberties and freedom to worship in whatever faith you choose. Values that elevate the practice of reasoned debate, unencumbered by fear.

Values that are enshrined in the United States Constitution, the best foundation of laws and society ever fashioned. 

Yes, these values do not guarantee perfection. After all, we are humans and are driven by internal voices to act in ways antithetical to these core values. Yes, the history of the last five hundred years of the evolution of western civilization has been marked with serious flaws and internecine strife and wars. But it was never the fact that it was Christians who slaughtered hundreds of millions.

It was the atheists and nihilists like Hitler, Stalin, Mao, Pol Pot and the like. If God is not real, then anything is possible and their idea of good is the mass eradication of large swaths of humanity.

Christians just don’t think this way.

It was Christians who ended slavery, a practice ubiquitous around the globe. Slavery was the norm in pre-Christian empires, and in the centuries that followed … in Africa and in the tribes of American Indians, throughout the Middle East … and it still prospers today in the absence of Christian influence. It remains big business, even in the United States, as vulnerable women are routinely “trafficked” in the sex trades.

We are in the clash of civilizations and ideals. And Charlie lived his life at the epicenter.

Charlie was and is a better man than I.

Which brings me to this.

I have watched and listened to thousands of speeches since my “awakening” to the world of politics in my early teens and since then. Some of them have been great. Some historical whose words still ring in our memory.

But I have never … I repeat never … heard a speech as the one that Erika Kirk gave yesterday.

I have only to surmise that she was propped up by God and given the strength and wisdom to speak to the world.

I have said that I have been called to be bold, especially in ways I could not have imagined since I was “awoken” again twenty years ago by hearing the audible voice of God.

Since then, I understand fully that I am an eternal being who is called to be part of a vast family seeking to do his will … something I sadly fail at much more that I wish. Charlie’s and Erika’s clarion call is for me to seek God’s strength to love and speak the truth is an antidote to the grief and anger I have … to a little voice that wants me to surrender into the darkness and lose hope for humanity.

Our battle is not political. It is spiritual as I’ve previously said. We are asked to choose a side in this spiritual battle.

Such is the legacy of Charlie’s life and Erika’s future. 

If you have not yet seen her speech, please do so. You can find it everywhere.

Lord, give us strength. Help us as we seek to move forward. Not out of vengeance but out of truth. To follow the Incarnate, the One who is our pathway to the light.

Amen.

Good vs. Evil and Martyrdom

Posted on by bradlichtman

What a difference a day can make. At this time yesterday, my heart was pretty light, although the last week has been difficult due to some significant challenges facing people I deeply care for. I’d just posted a couple of reflections on compassion and empathy, purpose and mission. I was planning a camping trip up into Idaho next spring.

Not today.

Today, I am angry, grieving, raw.

Twenty-four years ago, today, a number of fanatical Islamic jihadists (Warriors for Allah) attacked our country, our way of life, our fundamental values. They were considered martyrs, dying for a cause they felt as just.

Yesterday, a man whom I admire deeply for his commitment to those fundamental values was assassinated and I am not a little bereft.

Yes, my faith and trust in God is as firm as ever. I have no doubts in that regard. However, I’m struggling to comprehend what is happening in our country and around the world.

Charlie Kirk had the audacity to publicly state his bedrock values … including the importance of free speech and open debate. He decried the insipid movement to tear down the key principles on which our country was founded and for which countless Americans have given their lives to protect. He was a kind and loving man, a devoted husband and father, a humble and faithful friend who seemingly had time to connect with thousands. He did not apologize for his core beliefs, including his overtly Christian views.

He saw our society at a crossroads. He saw and called out organized attacks against family, free speech, and the Judeo-Christian beliefs that led to concepts like liberty, freedom, and common-sense truths.

For this, he was martyred.

And, just as the organization he built is named Turning Point, I think this is a turning point. A watershed moment. A defining moment.

Others may disagree but I see this as a battle of good and evil. Build up or tear down.

Evil says it’s ok for adults to countenance the mutilation of children and even give those children permission to permanently damage themselves so as to march lock step with a brutal and insane ideology. And some of those children are not even old enough to drive a car. Evil says it’s ok to light cities on fire, burn down businesses, attack people at random and espouse philosophies of nihilism and communism, both of which have led to the deaths of hundreds of millions. Evil says it’s ok for ideologies that espouse genital mutilation of young girls and the subjugation of women to bloom and grow in our midst. Evil says it’s ok to silence the voices of high school and college students who have the audacity to disagree with the tyrannical authorities in many of our schools and universities.

All martyrdom is not equal. The Islamic fundamentalists adhere to a core belief that it is their duty to subjugate all humans and to kill those who resist. Theirs is a holy war to push back civilization to the dark ages, before the welling up of concepts such as freedom and individual liberty.

All martyrdom is not equal.

Nathan Hale had one regret … that he had but one life to give for his country. And, it wasn’t just a country, it was an idea that all men and women are created equal in the eyes of God, that we have a right to live free. Patrick Henry famously stated, “Give me liberty or give me death.”

John the Baptist. Jesus. Stephen, the first Christan martyr. Many thousands of early Christians crucified, fed to the lions. Deitrich Bonhoeffer, who famously wrote Cost of Discipleship.

Charlie Kirk, Christian martyr. A good man who gave his life to defend the principles that unapologetically made this country great.

I am not afraid of dying. I know that we humans can be seen as bit players in the vast conflict between supernatural good and evil, while each of us is completely invaluable in the eyes of God. Jesus not only preached peace but he also preached war. In this war, we are called to put on metaphorical armor as the apostle Paul declares in his letter to the church in Ephesus.

Right now, I am hurting for Charlie’s family and for his large circle of friends and the millions of young people who he has energized in this battle between good and evil. Eventually, my anger and grief may diminish but it will take time. I am not complacent nor fatalistic. 

I was on the phone last evening with a close friend and a remarkable educator who is also one of the strongest Christians I know. He is facing an extremely tough challenge right now and shared with me that he is continuing to pray Psalm 27 as he has it memorized.

I slept little last night but when I got up well before dawn, I committed to opening my bible to that psalm as I knew its basis. When I picked up my phone to read the daily scripture, as I do first thing, out of thousands of possibilities, I stared at a verse from Psalm 27.

You can’t make this up.

As David wrote three thousand years ago:

“The Lord is my light and my salvation – whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life – of whom shall I be afraid? One thing I ask from the Lord, this only do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life and to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord. I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.”

Charlie arrived in heaven yesterday and there was a mighty banquet and celebration in that other reality. He died as he lived. Engaged. Kind. Purposeful. Loving.

May we honor his legacy by carrying on his mission.

See you on the other side, brother.

Purpose and Mission

Posted on by bradlichtman

Sometimes, I just have to start laughing at the absurdity of it all.

While I grew up from early teen years with the sense of finding purpose and meaning in my life … something that many of my age-group peers were not particularly interested in considering … the target remained allusive.

In other words, the voice in my head was persistent in the background that I was destined to some kind of journey of discovery. (This was the basis of my thematic autobiography, written three years ago.) But I constantly ran into kinds of roadblocks when what I thought was the target of this compulsion proved ephemeral.

I have written extensively on purpose and meaning … the corner stones of all human endeavors. Even people who do not reflect on these things do, in fact, live by them. For me and for many whom I know well, these concepts are fundamental and openly considered and discussed.

But what’s the point?

For purpose and meaning without action are mere philosophy.

One can gaze at one’s navel or try to unwrap the Zen koan of one hand clapping or meditate upon a candle with the mere objective of losing oneself in the great and vast universe. But, to what end?

My commitment to The Search clouded my perspective and confused the voices in my head. I did understand that I was called to service in the cause of improving the lives of children. And that service was built around a belief that good intentions by conscientious adults could make a lasting impression on soon-to-be adults.

I know many such adults who do not share my core beliefs as they’ve evolved over the last two decades who are wonderful examples of what I just described.

But something has changed and that is with respect to the fundamental target.

The laughing part is that, now, I believe I am a missionary.

At one level, this is not a surprise. I was on mission in a sense for all of those years when I taught in the classroom and led large educational institutions. (I’ve reflected more than a few times that I became the principal of a high school named Mission Hills.)

But the mission has shifted just as the target has shifted. Not by much but just enough. There is now a North Star that beckons like a tractor beam. Navigation is much clearer.

I don’t just have purpose and meaning in my life. I have, in addition, a “mission statement,” a constitution of sorts, a vision of how to live out purpose and meaning. The long march through searching has changed from shifting sands to a foundation of solid rock. 

In a loose sense, the job of a missionary is to be on constant mission. And, while non-Christians and even Christians may picture a missionary as someone engaged in the jungles of Borneo or in the hot and arid lands of Africa, seeking to convert lost souls, this isn’t the whole story.

As one who firmly believes the overarching Christian narrative to be completely true (the evidence of which I have repeatedly presented on this site), my “job” as a committed follower of the risen Lord, Jesus, is to partner with him to help restore a broken creation.

Many Christians will recognize one of my titles: The adopted son of the King. That means I’ve been admitted by grace into God’s family, and I get to participate in the family business.

That business is the basis of my mission and as one who should be on mission (living out purpose) each day, that makes me a missionary.

So, what does that even look like? Especially when I do not feel the call to travel overseas for lengths of time to seek out lost souls.

(For purpose of clarification, I have absolutely no problem with claiming that there are many billions of humans who possess lost souls. In fact, that’s the main reason Jesus arrived on the scene two millennia ago. Such a concept can be considered antagonistic in a society that defines freedom in terms of relative truth. How dare you say that I can be or will be “lost” for all of eternity? And, while this may not be my own overt form of dialogue with those who do not share my beliefs, it’s still a motivating factor, make no mistake. Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me! I once was lost and now am found, was blind but now I see.)

My mission is a product of God’s primary character: He is fully both Truth and Love. As a consequence, I need to boldly speak the truth and to act out of love.

These require risk as opposed to complacency. It is not for me to park myself on the sidelines. As this pathway has become clearer, I find myself reaching out to strangers in all sorts of places, seeking to find common ground and to let them know I “see” them. Affirm those who are typically invisible to most people, those who work in mundane jobs where they perform tasks for the general public and who receive very little authentic appreciation.

Also, many years ago, I realized I had been given several “spiritual gifts,” which are kind of like supernaturally charged innate skills. These are expressed as abilities that blossom out of deep places and are expressed through relationships with others. Two of mine are teaching and leadership, activities that I’m engaged in almost all of the time. I also relish the deep conversations with fellow believers as we walk hand-in-hand on a pilgrimage into eternity.

So, I pray nearly every day that God shows me someone whose life I can bless, especially those new to me. I also pray that God grants me the eyes to see others as he sees them, the heart to feel towards them as he does and the hands and feet to carry out his will, that they may flourish and live fully in the reality of his reign and rule.

All easier said than done. I always fall well short. However, at times I am stunned by his provision as opportunities abound that I would easily have missed a while back. 

So, whether based at home in San Diego … whether within a community of believers or out and about in all the grand diversity of humanity … whether while traveling through campgrounds or on ships of hundreds or thousands crossing vast oceans … I seek to be a missionary in God’s army … living boldly, speaking clearly, seeking redemption and renewal in the hearts and minds of others as I have received in ways beyond compare. May they all experience the love of Christ as something almost unimaginable in its boundless power and have eyes anew to see all of reality as it was originally intended.

For it is glorious.

For those of you reading this, I ask for your prayers that I can continue on mission, as a missionary helping to carry out God’s will. Thank you.

Blessings,

Brad

Compassion and Empathy

Posted on by bradlichtman

Apparently, there are 31,102 verses in 66 books that comprise the entire Bible, both Old and New Testaments.

The shortest verse has only two words and will serve as a basis for this reflection.

Jesus Wept.

* * * * *

I’ve had many conversations with respect to the theme in this title. My motivation today to write about compassion and empathy probably comes from several interactions over the last several days but it’s certainly a recurring one, so here goes.

There are way too many people in our culture who are, principally, self-centered. I say, principally, because all of us are self-centered to some degree. We seek what we want and that pursuit defines so much in our lives.

However, in this era of moral relativism, where the catch phrase, “my truth,” predominates, the laser focus is to elevate “my” needs considerably above the needs of others. Who is to say what truth or beauty or goodness actually are? The explosion of social media seems to have spread this contagion deeply into the consciousness of vast swaths of our society. Look at me! See how important and significant I am! Narcissism (pathologic elevation of self over anything and anyone else) abounds.

Is there an antidote?

Fortunately, there are so many people whose lives are ordered differently. I meet them everywhere.

When I interact with individuals for the first time, I frequently ask them what they like about their jobs. As most of these people are in some kind of “serving” profession, be they servers of food and drink or caregivers in doctors’ offices, clinics and hospitals, or crew on a cruise ship, or teachers and coaches at my former school, they invariably say some form of “it’s the people.”

To them, yes, they know they are held accountable for doing their job, performing well, but there is something about the relationships they develop, whether for the briefest or the longest spans of time, that feed them as they feed others.

Which brings me to this theme.

The concepts of compassion and empathy are closely related but not identical. In practical terms, I define them as follows:

Compassion is recognizing the brokenness in another and become willing to assist them in some way to relieve the pain. Compassion comes from an innate “caring” head and heart. But it goes beyond that thought or feeling and compels one to act. It involves an overt act of will.

Empathy is a bit different. To me, empathy is not just recognizing the brokenness in another but actually “feeling” that pain. To empathize is to share that pain in some measure. I “feel” the grief of another. I sob alongside the other person because I can’t help it. It’s not that I feel sorry for them (maybe closer to compassion) but it’s as if the event is actually happening to me.

Many people are compassionate by nature (fortunately!) but not all are what we can call “empaths.” 

When God took the scales from my eyes in the fraction of a moment on the evening of March 26, 2005, he then told and showed me that I had always belonged to him, even from the womb. That he was beside me through every event in my life. It is hard to describe everything that happened in the course of seconds or a few minutes but the veil between this world and his world was lifted and I could actually “see” the course of my life and know who he is and who I am in relation to him.

With this profound knowledge and in the months and years since then, I’ve been able to dissect many elements of my character and the values that form my life. 

Perhaps because I have faced suffering (many lifelong health challenges that would have killed me had I been born fifty years earlier) and I was raised with the lesson that I should always look out for those who could not help themselves, it seems I’ve lived with some semblance of compassion throughout my memory. This was not always the case, and I regret so much of my past behavior, but (and I see it now as God’s providence) there seems to have been an undercurrent going way back.

For some reason, and I can’t pinpoint a time when this became evident, I found myself responding to the pain or grief in someone else as if its source came from inside of me. There are moments when I choke up as another chokes up. As a high school principal, I was around a lot of suffering … from multiple suicides cascading across one of my campuses to the victims of extreme violence or other forms of suffering, it was a challenge to lead through those feelings as I was looked to for support and guidance. I imagine it’s similarly hard for some in the helping professions who are empaths … caregivers, therapists, teachers … and some kinds of boundaries or conscious separation has to occur to maintain sanity.

I don’t have the room here to recount everything about the most extreme experience of this in my life … I included it in my autobiography … suffice to say that I asked that the massive grief of a dear friend who had just lost his twenty-something daughter to anorexia and who stepped to the podium at the service in order to speak … that I could take his pain upon me so as to allow him to talk. And I was struck physically so hard  and deeply in an instant that I was rocked in my seat and felt I couldn’t breathe. My friend spoke with strength and compassion.

Back to Jesus.

Like most people who have surrendered some or all of their lives to Jesus … Christians … we can see vivid examples of how God’s character manifests. Throughout his three-year public ministry, time after time, Jesus demonstrated his deep compassion for brokenness all around him. It was an element of his unconditional love. He was gentle in spirit and sought to lift others out of misery, persecution, grave illness, and other debilitating forces in their lives.

There are, of course, moments between his emergence on the scene and his final climactic challenge while hanging on the cross and in the immediate hours before his crucifixion, that Jesus was tapped out … his cry and suffering as he took on the weight of all of humanity actually ended up shaking the ground and upending all reality.

The shortest verse in the Bible is the account of his grief at the death of a dear friend as his own grief was melded with the grief of the family who were some of his closest followers.

Of course, moments later, we learn of perhaps his greatest miracle: Bringing a man back to life after being dead for four days. Immediately producing great rejoicing.

So, in our own weeping, we can have confidence that the Lord of all understands and like the real-life account, weeping will turn to joy and celebration.

Compassion and empathy. Two forms of love where we put the needs of others before our own. Where we willfully act to help relieve suffering because we can’t help it. Our heads and hearts compel us. And, for some, we have an opportunity to live into the experience of others through, possibly, a supernatural linkage whereby we share common humanity. 

Thank you, Jesus.