August 31, 2025
Jeremiah 31:15-17
Introduction
This text for today is not from the lectionary. This text from today is not a feel-good story of healing and restoration. This text for today is not something read at a wedding or an anniversary celebration. This text for today is not something read during an annual, back to school, celebration mass. And this text is not something read by a preacher who knows what consoling words to say, who has an explanation, or theological promises filled with sentimentality.
“Rachel is weeping for her children; she refuses to be comforted for her children, because they are no more.”
No… this text for today is not to offer, or even try to offer, any kind of words of comfort today. Nor is this text about trying to make anything better for anyone. And yet, here we sit…with this text… an account of Rachel…a parent…a weeping parent… inconsolable… because her children… “are… no… more.”
Move 1
Today you and I are Rachel… weeping for our children. Today you and I are Rachel weeping for the 18 wounded victims—15 children and three adults. Today you and I are Rachel weeping for the two children who were killed. Today you and I are Rachel weeping for Annunciation Catholic Church. Today you and I are Rachel weeping for Minneapolis and all who live here. Today you and I are Rachel weeping for one another, for ourselves. Today you and I are Rachel weeping for our country that is once again being forced to make a time of mourning into a time of debate, finger pointing, and blaming.
I will not offer or even try to offer any words of comfort today. And I’m not going to try to make everything better, or easier. I can’t. There is nothing I, or anyone else, can say or do that is going to make another mass shooting acceptable, understandable, or even tolerable. I know this and you know it. Even if we don’t want to accept it, even if we try to forget it, even if we ignore and just go about our holiday weekend plans, we know it’s true, we know what’s happened and what is happening. And so does Rachel. We hear this truth… we hear this reality in today’s reading from Jeremiah 31:15-17. “Rachel is weeping for her children; she refuses to be comforted for her children, because they are no more.”
So if you’re looking for comfort today…well I am going to fail miserably at bringing you any. But I have a good reason. I don’t want to be comforted today. And I hope you don’t either.
How could we want or accept comfort today for what has happened… again? There is no comfort to be found—and like Rachel has, we need to wake up to this truth. “Rachel is weeping for her children; she refuses to be comforted for her children, because they are no more.”
So, no, I am not going to preach about comfort today. But I am going to preach about the only two things that can be talked about today: suffering and love.
Move 2
Suffering and love are the two great realities of this day. Suffering and love are the two great truths of this day. Now I know, when it comes to being fully present to the atrocity that happened in Minneapolis this past week, it feels like there is only suffering today. It feels that way to me too.
But I also know suffering is not the only reality—I know suffering is not the only truth. The depth and intensity of our suffering today is matched only by the depth and intensity of our love today. Our love for who and what has been lost. Our love for those who are lost in suffering. Our love for what should be—a joyful celebration of a yearly rite of passage. Our love for what God created this world to be and our love for who God created us to be.
The depth and intensity of our suffering today is matched only by the depth and intensity of our love today. And because this is the truth, I want to be very clear about something: Our suffering does not replace or diminish our love… and it never will… and it never can.
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Suffering and love always go together in life and in death. The love that binds us together will also break our hearts. You and I know this well, don’t we?
Today the Minneapolis community is broken and suffering because they loved and continue to love. Today our country is experiencing the brokenness and suffering that comes from loving. Today the Church, and this church, is suffering because we loved and continue to love.
And as painful as our suffering is, I wouldn’t want it any other way. And if you take some time to think about it, and really drill down deep into these truths and what they mean, and what they do, and what they are… then I am certain, you… as people of faith, and trust in God our Creator and Christ Jesus our Savior… you too wouldn’t want it any other way either.
Move 3
The depth and intensity of our suffering today is matched only by the depth and intensity of our love today. And we see this when we look at the outpouring of love our suffering is drawing from one another, this community, our nation, and the world. I don’t ever want us to get over this love. But my belief and hope, and even my experience, say we can get through our suffering.
That doesn’t mean our suffering will end any more than it means our love for those who have been lost will end. It means it changes. It means we will continue to suffer what has happened to us, but we will not be defined by it. As people of faith and trust in God our Creator and Christ Jesus our Savior we are not defined by our suffering. We are defined by our love.
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Now I get that sometimes this is really hard to believe. I know it’s hard to believe because right now it feels like this—this suffering—is always going to be what is most prevalent.
Which is why this text for today… this not a feel-good story… this not something read at a wedding or an anniversary celebration… this not something read during an annual, back to school, celebration mass… this not something read by a preacher who knows what consoling words to say, who has an explanation, or theological promises filled sentimentality… is so important and relevant today. “Rachel is weeping for her children; she refuses to be comforted for her children, because they are no more.” And yet, the Lord tells Rachel, “There is hope for your future.”
Now mind you, this is not about getting to heaven or escaping the reality of what has happened. This is God speaking through the prophet Jeremiah to the people of God who are in a hard, suffering situation. And it’s in this hard, suffering situation that God says, “There is hope for your future” and it’s God speaking about facing the next minute, the next hour, the next day, hoping against hope that somehow, someway, somewhere they will discover there is healing and moving forward—and it is all possible because of the love the suffering is rooted within.
Hope for your future is rooted in love.
Conclusion
Today you and I and the Church and our country are experiencing the brokenness that comes from loving. We are suffering because we loved, and continue to love. And as painful as it is, I would not want it any other way. I would not want it any other way because getting through suffering is not done through thoughts and prayers.
Getting through suffering is not done by voting blue or voting red. Getting through suffering is not done by debating if we should or should not arm teachers, or pointing fingers at people of particular ethnicities, lifestyles, or religions, nor is it done by blaming talking heads and political pundits. Getting through suffering is not done by turning off the news or muttering the delusional cliché “that could never happen here.” Getting through suffering is not done by anything other than loving more… loving deeper… loving larger… loving all as God loves all.
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No… loving all as God loves all is not, and will not, be easy. And loving all as God loves all is going to take a long time. It’s hard work and it will be our work for the rest of our lives. It’s your and my work to do. No one else can do it for us. But neither can we do it alone. We need each other and we’ll have to dig deep within ourselves to do this work. But it is good and faithful and worthwhile work because it is the only way through suffering is the very thing that causes suffering…love.
And when we do this work—when we love all as God loves all—we will find our way through the suffering; we will guide others through the suffering; and we will find “…there is hope for your future, says the Lord…” Amen.
Pastoral Prayer, August 31, 2025
Gracious God, we step before you, and into your holy and divine presence, weeping. Weeping for what has happened, again; weeping for what is happening still; weeping because while we hope it never will, we are not so naïve to think another atrocity like what happened at Annunciation Catholic Church and school won’t happen again.
Lord, hear our prayer and let our cries come to you, and let your healing presence be upon all who were injured or affected in body, mind, or spirit. Give them comfort, courage, and hope. Restore them to life. Draw near to us in this time of sorrow and anguish. Strengthen those who are weary, encourage those who despair, and lead us all to fullness of life.
Lord, hear our prayer and let our cries come to you, and as you weep for the pain of your children, so let us weep for the pain of ourselves and one another. Transform our tears into compassion, that our hearts may not become desensitized to violence or hardened by fear, prejudice, or indifference.
Lord, hear our prayer and let our cries come to you as we give thanks for first responders, law enforcement officers and agents, healthcare providers, counselors, and all who gave and continue to give of themselves to care for and protect all those affected by this shooting. Send you holy angels to sustain, guard, and protect them.
Lord, hear our prayer and let our cries come to you that our faith may be demonstrated not just in thought and prayer but in words and actions, that we may have the political will and wisdom to end gun violence in this country, that our actions may respect and promote the sanctity and dignity of every human being,
Lord, hear our prayer and let our cries come to you as you bless all students, parents, teachers, school staffs and administrations everywhere. Nourish them with strengthened resolve, comfort them with a sense of your goodness, embolden them to meet the days ahead, lift up your countenance upon them, and give them peace.
Keep watch, dear Lord, over those who work, or tend, or weep this day; and give your angels charge over those who sleep. Tend the sick and injured, Lord God; give rest to the weary, soothe the suffering, pity the afflicted, shield the joyous; and wipe our tears in hopes that our suffering will be enveloped by your love.
Hear now, we ask, the prayers of our hearts as we lift them to you in this time of Holy Silence.
All this we pray in the name of Christ Jesus, our Savior, who taught us to pray saying, “Our…”