“It’s painful to let this unchanging situation break your heart, because it means you will continue to have your heart broken over and over. But we can’t become numb.”

Jamila Aubain, Harlem

As the country confronts our history of systemic racism, Jamila Aubain finds comfort in her diverse community group from church as they learn to lament, pray, and take action together.

I remember waking up the last week of May to the news about George Floyd’s death. I was so upset, and even before the video of his death was released and the protests started, I knew there was something very different about his death. I tried to process what happened with some friends from college, and I remember one of them saying, “This is just life in America. This is just how it is.” I was so shocked by her response because she’s a fellow Christian and a woman of color.

I understand where she was coming from — we are tired of grieving the death of Black people at the hands of those who are supposed to protect them. The victims’ names change but the story is always the same. You see some movement for change in response to these events and then it all dies down. People go back to their regular lives until it happens again.

It’s painful to let this unchanging situation break your heart, because it means you will continue to have your heart broken over and over. But we can’t become numb. We can’t just look at this from afar. Once you are numb, you no longer have a fight in you. You no longer have a voice. You become blind to the situation.

I wasn’t numb to George Floyd’s death. I didn’t want my friend to be either. So, I asked her to imagine if it was one of her brothers’ names in that headline. I asked her to have empathy.

After that conversation, I tried to process racial injustice alone. I was scared to invite anyone else into that space and get a response similar to my friend’s. But my diverse community group from church started to discuss George Floyd’s death and I was shocked to find healing in their midst. I saw that it broke my white brothers’ and sisters’ hearts too and that I didn’t have to grieve alone or in secret. Our leaders even called for an additional session just to listen to the hearts of the Black members of our group and see how to better support us.

The truth is, most of us live segregated lives. I didn’t necessarily know how to have conversations about racism in diverse circles; I didn’t know where my non-Black brothers and sisters in Christ stood on these issues. But God showed me that it’s not the color of your skin that determines whether or not this is a worthwhile conversation to have; it’s whether or not you abide in Him. It’s whether you are in tune with God’s own heart.

If you are walking with Christ — if you truly abide in Him — the things that break His heart will break yours too. Seeing that displayed so tangibly in my group was such a beautiful reminder of who God is. My group really became a place of healing for me throughout the summer.

I remember waking up one morning in June and asking God where He stood on all of this. I flipped open my Bible and it fell to Psalm 82. The psalm declares that God presides over heaven’s court and gives justice to the weak and the fatherless. I told my group that we needed to continue to have these conversations and not let them die down like they have in the past. God has opened doors for me to do my part in this fight both at church and at work. I don’t yet know exactly how my involvement will change over time, but I know it won’t be temporary.

Our group comprised of Black, white, and Asian men and women has continued to press into issues of justice. We’ve talked about Jesus protecting the powerless — defending the woman caught in adultery. We’ve talked about the Sermon on the Mount and how Jesus blesses those who mourn and those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. These conversations give me strength. This group is a constant source of comfort from the Lord.

I think back to what I told my friend so many months ago: we have to have empathy. We have to mourn with those who mourn. And if people respond to these issues in a way we don’t understand, we have to take the time to engage them and learn where they’re coming from.

But most importantly, we have to abide in Christ so our hearts will break for what breaks His. It could’ve been our own brother’s name in that headline. We can’t be passive in this conversation. We can’t become numb.