By The Rev. Greg Smith, Associate Rector and I’on Campus Pastor, Chaplain to The Citadel, Charleston

At each of the four funerals I was able to attend I heard the familiar words from Psalm 37 as the crying family came in: “I have been young, and now am old, yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken or his children begging for bread.”
    In what sense could these words possibly be true?
    All of this tragedy, senseless violence, crazy summer heat... How could this Scripture (of all) be applied at a funeral? Hadn’t the righteous been forsaken?
    Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, (John 11:25)
    And there was the answer.
    The death, burial and resurrection of Jesus is what we rest in when tragedy strikes. And it is that reality which I saw on display at each funeral. The family was rightly shaken – often at a loss for words – but they were surrounded by the truth. No matter what this world throws at us, Jesus wins.
    As speakers got up to share, the constant theme was Jesus and His victory. It was out of that strength those families were able to offer forgiveness. It was out of that strength those families were able to stand strong. It was out of that strength those families offered grace to a world seeking answers.
    When Bishop Lawrence asked the clergy to try and attend the funerals, we knew it was one of the only things we could do. We didn’t have relationships with the AME pastors. We didn’t have the networks. And we didn’t have answers. But we could stand together in the grace of Jesus. And so I went – with a bit of honest trepidation and the welcome was amazing. The AME is a “connectional” church and everywhere I went I was welcomed in and asked to sit with their clergy. At first, I felt out of place,  but their great district leader, the Rev. Norvell Goff, shepherded the services to the Gospel and to celebration in Jesus.
    “We shall overcome” became a theme not of political change but of a reality that will, truly, happen (and already is) in the Gospel. I saw politicians reach across lines, honor each other, and relate. Gov. Haley, at one of the first funerals, was lightly attacked by a speaker who said he’d protested outside her house and was glad to see her there. She retorted, “Next time you’re outside protesting come up and knock on the door. I’d love to sit down with you!”
    That was what I saw. People of every race, tribe and culture, coming together to mourn and observe this strange Gospel we have – a good news that proclaims that no matter what happens here we serve the one who got up from the grave. Jesus is waiting to sit down with us at that future feast where no one will beg for bread for it will be there in abundance.
    And I saw grief – but it was a grief rooted in the Gospel and resurrection. At one particular funeral, I saw the family get up and dance –  Full out flapping and twirling and running up and down the aisle. It was grief like I’d never seen before! When I grieve I get silent, but these families had something special. They danced in grief letting the emotions bubble over in a mixture of wailing and dancing and mourning that was real and raw. And supported – surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses at every funeral, the clergy, friends, and church members sang songs of the resurrection, reminding us all of the Gospel.
    So, what do we do now? For me, it’s renewed the need for relationship. We don’t have the answers for violence in this world. But we know the one who endured the violence from the world – Jesus, and he offers to sit down at a feast with us. Perhaps that feast could start now as we sit down with pastors across the street and share life together, learning what righteousness looks like through the prism of the Gospel.