It was a wonderful evening! My brother in law and his family were enjoying a few days of vacation following our daughter’s wedding. They called that afternoon and said they were going to the Charleston Riverdogs game that evening and invited us to join them.
It was one of those perfect Charleston summer evening—not too much sniffling humidity! We had great seats, the kids were having fun, and best of all, the home team won!
In fact we were so far ahead that Anita and I left early to beat the traffic home. We were driving home when I received a text from a friend in NY. “Just heard the news. What can I do?”
I thought she had meant to send the message to someone else? What could she do about what?
When we got home we knew.
A person had visited a Bible Study at Emanuel AME Church in downtown Charleston, sat till it was over and then open fire, killing 9 and injuring 3 others.
It changed everything!
Suddenly mass shootings weren’t a thing that happened “there.” It was here, on Calhoun Street, in one of the Holy City’s most historic churches. The media swarmed our city, blocking off streets, telling the story, waiting for the violence that had accompanied so many other shootings. President Obama came for a city wide memorial service. In the next days there were 9 individual services.
Our city and state were changed. At long last the Confederate flag that has flown over the statehouse, and then on the statehouse grounds was finally removed.
Things changed.
But they also changed for me.
Anita says that my preaching changed. After Mother Emanuel I was no longer able/willing to just make insinuation. I became more directive. I had to call out the sin not only in our lives but in our community and world. Some said I got political. Maybe so, but when a church is littered with bodies, what are you to say?
The rest of that week was a blur. My father had died and his funeral was on Saturday. A beloved church member had died and his funeral was on Sunday afternoon. And I had a sermon to write for our congregation that was in shock, in grief. Not since 9/11 did I feel such pressure as a pastor.
Here are the words I shared that morning.
But I still remember that evening. June 17, 2015. A night that changed everything.