I have been contemplating the word “empathy” a lot lately. Researcher Brené Brown writes and speaks extensively about empathy. She reminds her readers that empathy carries a certain understanding and validation when listening to someone share their feelings.

We’ve all had that experience where we tell someone a problem and the next phrase out of their mouth is, “Well, at least … .” If you’re like me, you just roll your inner eyes and quietly remind yourself never to tell that person your problems again.

While I was traveling to Ghana recently, the city of Sacramento, California, had to deal with, and is still having to deal with, a problem I would rather avoid discussing but feel compelled to write about.

Since being elected assistant superintendent of the Northern California and Nevada District of the Assemblies of God, I’ve remained relatively quiet on the topic of race relations, only sharing insights with ministers who have approached me privately with questions.

However, with the recent officer-involved shooting in Sacramento and the demonstrations that followed, I’ve realized it’s only a matter of time before each of our communities is affected by these types of events.

As a pastor, three important principles helped me navigate explosive situations.

First, I had to remember that there were people in my congregation who didn’t see situations as I saw them. For many of us, the police are a welcomed presence. My grandfather was the first African-American resident deputy sheriff in Merced County, California.

For the most part, my interactions with law enforcement have been positive (in my adult years). Police officers represent honesty and security to many of us. Some of my closest friends are in law enforcement, and I would trust them with my life and the lives of my family.

However, my African-American friend Adam grew up in a neighborhood where the police hassled him and his friends for playing stickball in the street. When he was just 11 years old, officers made him put his hands on the hot hood of a patrol car and endure frisking. They forced him to remain in that position until his hands were red and blistered from the heat.

Empathy allows us to see each side of the situation and pray accordingly.

Pastor, as much as I hate to say it, there are people in your congregation who have experienced abuse at the hands of those we entrust to enforce the law. The amazing thing about my friend Adam is that he grew up to work in law enforcement and is now a federal agent. He didn’t allow the abuse of his past to stop his future.

Honestly, I didn’t want to hear Adam’s story because it messed up my perception of an institution I esteem. But empathy caused me to welcome his pain as my own.

Second, I refused to let fear silence my empathetic voice. These tragedies have brought disruption and disunity to our nation. Yet many of us as ministers have remained silent because we’re afraid of saying the wrong thing and offending the wrong side.

When I was pastoring in Benicia, California, the Gulf War remained in the headlines. On Sundays, I publicly prayed for our troops and also prayed for the mothers who had lost their sons on the other side. Does not the Word instruct us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us?

You’ll find that when you approach a topic with an empathetic heart, you are responding in the spirit of unity. Empathy allows us to see each side of the situation and pray accordingly. 

Third, I had to remind myself and my congregation that God looks at the heart when He judges a person’s actions. I don’t believe for one minute that any of the officers who have been involved in these types of shootings throughout our nation woke up that morning with the intention of shooting young unarmed African-American men.

As the body of Christ, we must remember to pray for those who are called to protect and serve (yes, I do believe it is a calling). We must pray not only for God’s protection but also for divine wisdom. Like pastors, officers shoulder heavy responsibilities. They make decisions in nanoseconds and must live the rest of their lives with those decisions.

As a grandfather with grandsons who are young teenage men of color, I have fears that perhaps many of you will never have. I’ve been concerned that my grandsons will be judged by the color of their skin instead of the content of their character.

I’ve worried about how my grandsons will respond when they get their first speeding ticket. Will they be respectful enough, or will the officer view them as up to no good because they are black?

However, I will not pass on my fears to the next generation. I will remind them to respect and honor all persons and professions, and I will teach them empathy.