This Heat Is Real…But So Is Our Calling

It’s only June, and a heat wave is scorching cities here on the east coast. Concrete is cracking. Power grids are straining. And people, especially the poor, are suffering. And somewhere, right now, a church sign is baking in the sun proudly declaring:

"If You Think It’s Hot Here, Imagine Hell"

Lord, have mercy.

But the truth is we don’t have to imagine hell here. We can see it.

Hell is watching your faith turned into a target because someone who shares it might soon hold a mayor’s seat in our largest city.

Hell is being told by your church that God loves you, while the congregation votes against your humanity.

Hell is a trans teenager being told by lawmakers and pastors alike that they don’t deserve to live as who they are.

Hell is a detention center where immigrants are packed into cinder block rooms hotter than the desert they crossed to get here.

Hell is working three jobs and still having to choose between rent and medicine.

We don’t need threats of an eternal fire when people are already burning in the flames of racism, poverty, Islamophobia, queerphobia, greed, and cruelty.

As the temperature climbs and the planet groans, while some churches believe this is a moment to scare folks with some far-off, fabricated fire, let’s see this as a moment to be reminded to stand in the middle of the hell we're already in—in truth, in solidarity, and with compassion and justice.

Let’s commit and recommit to following the way of love Jesus taught, modeled, and embodied. For it’s the way that can hydrate hope in our parched land. Together, let’s create refreshing rivers of justice with heavy showers of mercy. Let’s walk straight into the fire with anyone the world tries to leave behind.

And if we had a sign in front of our houses of worship or in front of our homes, let it say:

"It’s hot out here—but so is our passion for justice."

Because we are following a way of love that never threatens folks with flames but always shows up in the heat with them. We follow a way that never says, “prepare to escape this world,” but always says, “prepare to transform it.”

So, in this June heat wave, let’s rise, not with hell, fire, and brimstone, but with mercy, justice, and fierce, thirst-quenching love.