Break My Heart for What Breaks Yours—And Act on It
As the stirring notes from the familiar Christmas carol “Oh Holy Night” reach their crescendo, flickering candles illuminate a sea of joyful faces, tightly packed together in polished church pews to herald the arrival of the newborn King.
The people gathered here know the true meaning of Christmas; they understand their need for a Savior, and with immense gratitude, recognize and count on the hope they now have in him. Their joy is palpable.
And yet . . . in hearts and homes merely blocks from this uplifting scene, there is a jarring contrast. Far from the light, hurting, broken, hopeless people inhabit dark crevices of homelessness, illness, loneliness, poverty, trauma, depression, and more. Further afield, people are living out the gruesome realities of war, facing unimaginable violence, grief, and loss. And for those who leave to seek shelter for their families in a culture foreign and strange, they risk receiving a welcome that is far less warm and hospitable than the church sanctuary bursting with festive cheer.
How can we possibly reconcile the Christ-centered hope and joy that exists within our church building with the despair and suffering felt by people outside its walls—both believers and non-believers alike? And, perhaps even more importantly, what are we called to do about it?
Live Like Jesus
As I’ve wrestled with this question, there’s a line I’ve prayed and sung countless times in church over the years that always comes to mind: Lord, break my heart for what breaks yours. (“Hosanna” by Hillsong UNITED and written by Brooke Fraser). Yet as I’ve sat with hundreds of other Christians enjoying the “safe” community of my weekly church service, sometimes I wonder if I’m genuinely prepared to follow through with the implications of such a radical heart-change. Because it’s not enough to simply know what breaks the heart of God; we must be willing to act on it. Scripture tells us that “anyone who claims to be intimate with God ought to live the same kind of life Jesus lived” (1 John 2:6 MSG).
The same kind of life as Jesus? Seriously?
Jesus, whose incarnation pierced the darkness of our world and dawned a new and glorious morn, his light reaching every crack and crevice of humanity’s gloom.
Jesus, who was willing to leave the glory of heaven to reach those who needed his light, intentionally surrounding himself with broken, sick, hurting, needy people.
Jesus, who offers grace and mercy, compassion and love—without exception.
This is the Jesus after whom we are supposed to model our lives? Because, quite frankly, this kind of abundant, life-giving, sacrificial, non-discriminatory love is not for the faint-hearted. It’s a gritty, get-our-hands-dirty kind of love that forces us to interact with people and places we might usually try to avoid. It is inconvenient and costly—to our finances, our time, our relationships, and our comfort. And to make matters worse, it may not be reciprocated or even appreciated.
Yet we are called to do it anyway—for if we don’t, who will?
The Need to Get Uncomfortable
As a mom of two young children, it’s impossible to ignore the fact that I’m raising my daughters in a world that is increasingly hostile to the message of the gospel. My husband and I have legitimate concerns about what our children are learning about cultural norms that run counter to biblical truth. Yet culture teaches that speaking out against these issues in the boardroom or the classroom can result in being “canceled,” or at the very least, lead to awkward encounters in our social circles. It can seem safer under these conditions to retreat altogether from the cultural conflicts raging all around us into holy huddles of safety with other like-minded families, where we can speak freely and raise our children alongside those with similar beliefs and Kingdom values.
And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that—up to a point. The Bible is clear that Christian community is a good and necessary part of our growth as believers. But it shouldn’t be the only community we have. We should never allow ourselves to become too disconnected, too protected from the needs of a broken, dying world crying out for a Savior. We were never meant to be passive observers simply trying to protect our families from the evils of the world. No, Jesus wants us to insert ourselves right into the middle of the mess to be salt and light and love—a living, breathing signpost pointing back to him (Matt. 5:14–16).
Love in Action
Jesus says in Matthew 16:24–26: “Don’t run from suffering; embrace it. Follow me and I’ll show you how” (MSG). So how do we lean into the suffering we see all around us—on a local, national, and even a global scale?
I recently heard the president of World Vision USA, Edgar Sandoval Sr., describe a scene he had witnessed at the Romanian border where a seemingly endless stream of women, children and the elderly were arriving from neighboring Ukraine, fleeing the impending invasion. Exhausted, hungry, traumatized, and terrified, their needs were overwhelming and their suffering great. And yet, amid the despair, there was also hope in the form of volunteers who had not only leaned into those refugees’ suffering, but jumped in with both feet, offering food, shelter, supplies, and sometimes even just a simple act of friendship and welcome. They didn’t know the first thing about these people—their economic status, their moral compass, their religious beliefs or political preferences. These volunteers simply saw people in need, and they showed up. They demonstrated love in action, and, in doing so, reflected the heart of God.
A few weeks ago, a little closer to home, members of our various church campuses participated in a service day in our community. Divided into teams, we headed off to various locations across our city to offer our time and (in my case, very limited) talents to clean up outdoor spaces, paint and clean, and organize supplies and donations at the local city mission. Why? In doing so, we were sending a simple yet strong message to the people in our community that we cared about them—and, by default, that Jesus cares about them, too.
Sharing Jesus’s love with others doesn’t have to be constrained to once-in-a-lifetime mission trips or meticulously planned service days. It is a calling that should nestle deep into the very fabric of our daily lives. The barista at your local coffee shop, the colleagues in your office, the homeless man we pass on the way home, the moms at the school bus stop—they all need to experience the love of God, too. In fact, they may very well have been placed in your particular sphere of influence for a divinely-appointed purpose.
The people we interact with day in and out are suffering too. Perhaps they have money or marital problems. Maybe they’re struggling with their physical or mental health. Maybe they just need someone to talk to or, more importantly, to listen. In a hundred different ways over the course of a day, we have the opportunity to minister to people’s hearts. We simply have to show up and pay attention.
Back to the Basics
Jesus repeatedly rebukes the Pharisees, the religious elite of the day, for focusing on the wrong thing. “Do and observe whatever they tell you,” he tells the people, “but not the works they do. For they preach but do not practice” (Matt. 23:3). In a culture that tells us that our love and respect is conditional on someone’s beliefs or behavior, let’s not be people who preach but do not practice. We are each created in God’s image, and the babe in the manger came for us all.
So this holiday season, let’s get back to the basics of unconditional love for our fellow man. Let’s be children of light, extending a hand into the darkness and inviting others into the hope that is theirs to claim in Christ. But first we must lay aside our prejudices, our fears, our hostility, and our misplaced perceptions at the foot of the cross and simply show up wherever we are needed—whether it’s to a literal war zone or to the neighbor across the street with a contrasting political sign in their yard. We must seek justice and love the foreigner (Deut. 10:18) remembering first and foremost how Jesus has shown the same love and care to us.
Edgar Sandoval Sr. concluded his remarks by saying, “When you step toward suffering, you step closer to God.” It is a high and holy calling to minister to the children of the world in God’s name. It will undoubtedly change us—for our good and his glory. But first we must be willing to allow God to break our hearts . . . and then have the courage to follow through.
Vicki Bentley is a Scottish native who now lives in upstate New York with her husband and two young daughters. She is the Associate Managing Editor for The Joyful Life Magazine and writes regularly on faith, anxiety, and neurodiverse parenting. As a writer and editor, it is her greatest joy to cultivate and shape words that speak transformative grace-filled truth into the hearts and lives of others. You can connect with her on her blog, Facebook, or Instagram.