Brothers and Sisters,
The past week have been a storm of emotions — waves of deep sadness, grief, fear, and anger crashing over us one after another. The only moment in my living memory of such grief is 9/11, when we felt that terrible wound — not only an attack on lives, but on the very idea of America itself.
Perhaps that is why the assassination of Charlie cuts so deeply. It feels like more than the loss of an innocent man. It feels like an assault on what we hold most dear: the freedom to speak, the right to hold convictions, the God-given dignity of every person, and the very Christian faith that grounds our lives.
Political and cultural voices are abuzz, analyzing the event, debating its causes, naming culprits, and speculating about what might come next. The air is thick with blame, anger, fear, and - grievously - even moments of glee.
But what about us?
What are we to do with our own hearts and tears in this moment?
What are we to do as families gathered around our tables?
What are we to do as the Church of Jesus Christ, called to be salt and light in such a dark hour?
One picture I often share with our children to help them consider their response to life's storms is the image of waves, boats, and anchors, each representing three kinds of people.
The waves are the ones who create chaos. They are restless and unrestrained, moved by impulse rather than wisdom. They crash, churn, and break apart whatever lies in their path. Its rather easy to be a wave.
The boats are those who are at the mercy of the waves. They are carried wherever the current takes them, reacting to every gust of wind and swell of emotion. When the waves rage, they rage. When the waves panic, they panic.
The anchors, however, are different. They do not become waves, and they do not drift like boats. They dig deep. They hold fast. They know storms will come, waves will crash, and boats will be tossed — but they themselves need not be moved.
In the days and months ahead, many words will be spoken about Charlie. But what we witnessed in his life was clear: he was neither a wave nor a boat — he was an anchor. And he could be an anchor because, first and foremost, Jesus Christ had saved him. Charlie sought to trust his Savior in everything, and that deep faith gave him the moral clarity and courage of conviction by which he lived.
Now the challenge before us is this: to refuse to be waves, to refuse to be boats, and to take up the calling to be anchors. Our world is desperate for anchors — men and women who will stand firm in Christ when the storm rages.
So back to the question: What do we do with ourselves? What do we do as families? What do we do as the Church?
1. Be Anchored in Christ
Our Lord told us that those who follow Him would be hated, mocked, persecuted, and even put to death for His name’s sake — so we should not be surprised. But He also promised, “I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” Take comfort in His goodness, mercy, and forgiveness toward you. Before anger, bitterness, and the noise of political rhetoric on social media shape your heart, let God’s Word shape your mind (Romans 12:2). Bring your grief and fear to Him in prayer, and ask Him to fill you with His grace, wisdom, and courage.
2. Treasure Your Family
Hug your spouse. Hold your children. Call your parents. Embrace your friends. Life is a precious and fragile gift. Give thanks for the people God has entrusted to you. Love them faithfully, sacrificially, and joyfully. The single greatest way we push back against the darkness is by building homes that honor and serve Jesus Christ.
3. Boldly Stand on Truth
The church father Tertullian once said, “The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church.” When believers witness others living and speaking the truth — and dying for that truth — it strengthens the entire Body of Christ to stand firm. I am personally emboldened by my brother’s courageous witness in the face of evil. This is our calling as well: to shine as light in the darkness, no matter the cost. And we do this not only as individuals but as a community. Trinity, though we may feel small or insignificant, are a phalanx in the Lord’s army — standing shoulder to shoulder, shield to shield, engaged in a very real and high-stakes spiritual battle. We follow in our Master's train.
If you don’t have a place to worship this Sunday, I would like to personally invite you to join us at Trinity San Antonio this Sunday at 10:30am.
4. Pray for Our Nation
Our nation is deeply broken — and no system, politician, judge, or president can fix it. Those are only mirrors reflecting the soul of the people. And what we see right now is a divided soul. The only hope for America is not a new policy but a new heart — hearts transformed by the grace of Jesus Christ. Let us pray earnestly for revival, asking God to begin His work in our own hearts and to sweep across this land with repentance, healing, and faith.
5. Talk with Someone.
I realize this is impacting everyone differently. Some wonder why there is so much emotion, while others are shattered. If you are finding yourself closer to the latter response, I encourage you to grab coffee with someone at church or a close friend and talk about it. Talk about what you are feeling, what you are thinking, and how it's impacting you. This is how normal humans process such tragic events. Tears are okay, emotions are normal, questions are healthy. As always, I am available to visit on the phone or in-person, as are both of our elders.
I'll leave you with a quote from our beloved J.R.R. Tolkien from his Fellowship of the Ring:
“I wish it need not have happened in my time," said Frodo.
"So do I," said Gandalf, "and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”
May our Lord Jesus Christ strengthen us to be faithful followers in these days we have been given.
If you don’t have a church home, you are invited to join us this Sunday at 10:30am! You can learn more on our website: www.trinitysa.org
Grace and peace,
Pastor Matthew Ballmann
