The doors of the church are open. Good morning, Saints!
Beloved children of the sun, our scripture this morning comes from Proverbs 11:10, which says:“When the righteous prosper, the city rejoices; when the wicked perish, there are shouts of joy.”
Now church, that’s a dangerous scripture if you really sit with it.
Because it forces us to wrestle with something folks don’t wanna admit. That how people respond to death is tied to how that person lived, what they represented, and what people had to endure while they were on this Earth. It reminds us that death doesn’t just end a life, it exposes it. It reveals it. It brings to the surface what folks really felt but maybe didn’t feel safe enough to say out loud.
Amen?!!
Saints, we need to tell the truth about something people are already feeling but have been trained to hide. Folks are watching power, watching harm, watching the news, and having complicated reactions to death. Relief, indifference, even anticipation. And nobody is giving us language for it that isn’t either fake politeness or outright cruelty.
And most preachers will stand up here and flatten death into one acceptable response: mourn, be quiet, say something nice. But that’s not how people actually experience the world. Especially people who have lived under systems, leaders, and institutions that caused real harm.
Yesterday, we heard about the death of former FBI director, Robert Mueller. And before the body was even cold, before the moment could settle, we heard Donald Trump say, “Good. I’m glad he’s dead. He can no longer hurt innocent people.”
Just like that, Saints.
He said it with his whole chest, and without apology.
Now why would he say something like that?
Because Mueller was the man who led the investigation into Russian interference in the 2016 election. Mueller was the man whose report put Trump under a microscope legally, politically, publicly. Mueller was the man connected to years of scrutiny, questions about obstruction, questions about truth, questions about power.
So when Trump speaks like that, he’s not just talking about a man. He’s talking about what that man represented to him. Accountability. Investigation. Consequences knocking at the door.
“He can’t hurt innocent people anymore.” Saints, that ain’t about Mueller. That’s about a man who felt threatened by being examined, and decided that the examiner was the problem. Because sometimes when people say, “He was dangerous,” what they really mean is, “He was dangerous to me.”
Turn to your neighbor and say, “Neighbor, of course Trump is relieved.” Turn to your other neighbor and say, “Neighbor, we are not surprised.”
This is a man who has mocked the vulnerable. Insulted the dead. Belittled the grieving. This is a man who has turned cruelty into a political language. A man who has shown us, over and over again, that empathy is dead and spectacle is the point. His words didn’t come out of nowhere. This is consistent with who he has been.
And the Bible speaks about that kind of spirit. Proverbs 18:21 says, “Death and life are in the power of the tongue.” And Matthew 12:34 reminds us, “Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks.”
In other words, Saints, when something cruel rolls off your tongue that easily, it didn’t start in your mouth. It’s been living in your heart all along. It’s been rotting in your spirit. It’s been marinating in your bitterness. It’s been rehearsing in your silence. It’s been feeding on your pride. It’s been growing every time nobody checked you. It’s been waiting for a moment like this to show itself without shame.
Y’all don’t wanna hear me preach this morning.
And when it speaks, Saints, it don’t just reveal a thought. It reveals a heart that has gotten real comfortable with darkness.
And what kind of heart produces cruelty?
Scripture gives us language for it. Ezekiel 36:26 talks about a heart of stone. It talks about a heart that has lost its ability to feel, to soften, to recognize the humanity in others. Jesus says in Matthew 15:19 that out of the heart come evil thoughts, murder, and false witness.
So when you hear words like that, saints, you are not just hearing a statement. You are hearing the condition of a spirit. A spirit that has been hardened by power. A spirit numbed by ego. A spirit made comfortable with cruelty. A spirit that no longer trembles at death. A spirit that no longer pauses at loss. A spirit that no longer recognizes the sacredness of life. That is what happens when a heart goes unchecked. That is what happens when power replaces conscience.
Somebody say Amen.
Now let’s tell the truth up in here, because this is a truth-telling church. Am I right? Somebody say, “Tell the truth and shame the devil, Rev. Dr. Staceypants.”
The FBI has a long, ugly, documented history when it comes to Black folks. COINTELPRO didn’t come out of nowhere. Surveillance didn’t start yesterday. The targeting and killing of Black leaders, the disruption of movements, the criminalization of our resistance is all part of the record. So let’s not stand up in here and pretend. We know better.
And we’re not gonna act like Robert Mueller existed outside of that system. He rose through it. He led it. He defended it. And under his watch, we saw over-policing, surveillance, the expansion of national security power after 9/11. All this fell hardest on Black communities, on Muslim communities, and people of color around the world. So no, we are not in here canonizing anybody.
But still, we gotta ask, why would Donald Trump . . . a racist, a sexist, a cheat, a man facing indictments, a man who has been found liable for fraud, a man whose political career has been built on division, cruelty, and chaos, a man accused of sexual assault, accused of undermining democracy, stoking violence, and playing fast and loose with truth . . . why would he fix his lips to stand over another man’s death and say, “He can no longer hurt innocent people?”
That’s the question, saints.
Because that ain’t just a statement. That’s projection. That’s a man so steeped in his own sense of power and delusion that he believes he gets to decide who is dangerous, while carrying danger in his own hands.
That’s what happens when arrogance meets authority. That’s what happens when ego gets baptized and starts calling itself righteousness.
And the Bible warns us about that kind of spirit. It warns us about people who can point fingers at everybody else’s sin while standing knee-deep in their own mess.
Romans 2:1 tells us: “You, therefore, have no excuse, you who pass judgment on someone else, for at whatever point you judge another, you are condemning yourself, because you who pass judgment do the same things.”
In other words, saints, be careful pointing when your own hands are nasty.
Now, I wanna bring it back to the scripture we opened with. Let’s bring it back to the Word. Proverbs 11:10 is still sitting there, staring us in the face: “When the righteous prosper, the city rejoices; when the wicked perish, there are shouts of joy.”
Now that’s the tension. Because on one hand, we just said don’t let your heart get comfortable with cruelty. Don’t let your spirit rot. Don’t let death pull something demonic out of you.
But on the other hand, the Bible says there are moments when the fall of the wicked brings relief. When something heavy lifts. When something oppressive ends. When something harmful is no longer able to do what it used to do.
Now I can already hear somebody in here saying, “Well, ain’t that what Trump was talking about?” And somebody else might be thinking, “Well, ain’t that what some of us feel about Mueller and what that system did to Black folks?”
See, that’s where it gets real. Because now we’re not just talking about them…
we’re talking about us. We’re talking about how we interpret harm. We’re talking about who gets to be called “dangerous.” We’re talking about whether power gets to define innocence, or whether truth does.
Because here’s the difference, saints, and don’t miss this: When oppressed people feel relief, it’s because something that was harming them has lost its grip. But when powerful people declare relief over someone else’s death, while they are still causing harm, that’s not liberation.
That’s called deflection. That’s somebody trying to rewrite the story, so they don’t have to answer for the role they’re playing in it.
Everybody don’t get to claim Proverbs 11:10 the same way.
Everybody don’t get to stand on that scripture and say, “The wicked are gone,”
when they are still participating in wickedness themselves.
Donald Trump does not get to stand on that scripture and claim righteousness while policies tied to his power are still causing harm.
Donald Trump does not get to call somebody else dangerous while he is still stoking division, fear, and instability.
Donald Trump does not get to declare innocence over others while his own record is full of accusations, chaos, and disregard for truth.
Donald Trump does not get to speak relief over death while people are still suffering under decisions connected to his leadership.
Donald Trump does not get to point at somebody else’s sin while standing knee-deep in his own mess.
And Donald Trump does not get to use the language of justice while living a life that has made justice necessary.
The Bible is not confused, Saints. Relief that comes from the end of harm is one thing.
But relief that is spoken from the mouth of someone still causing harm is not righteousness talking. That’s something else. That’s evil talking.
So what do we do with that, saints? Because all week long, we’ve been watching this dynamic play out before us.
We saw the mixed reactions to the passing of actor Chuck Norris, who supported the state of Israel, who was a homophobe, and a racist. Some folks were grieving, some folks were indifferent, some folks said, “Good riddance. What you cookin’ for lunch?”
We saw folks all over social media asking, “Is Benjamin Netanyahu dead or alive?” They’ve been asking not just because they care about the man, but because they’re watching what he represents and wondering what it would mean if that power ended.
And let’s tell the truth all the way, since we in here. There are people all over this world watching Donald Trump and already thinking about what they will feel, what they will say, what will rise up in their spirit when that great gettin’ up morning comes. There are millions, perhaps billions, of people around the world who will return Trump’s words right back to him: “Good. I’m glad he’s gone. He can’t hurt innocent people anymore.”
Proverbs 28:18 says: “Whoever walks in integrity will be delivered, but whoever is crooked in his ways will suddenly fall.” In other words, the same measure you use will find its way back to you.
The Bible is not giving you permission to become cruel. It is naming what it feels like when cruelty finally loses its grip. It is not celebrating death for death’s sake. It is acknowledging what happens when harm ends. There is a difference between rejoicing because someone is gone, and rejoicing because what they did can no longer continue.
Black Liberation Theology teaches us that god is not neutral in the face of oppression. God is not sitting on the sidelines wringing divine hands, asking everybody to just get along. God is concerned with the oppressed. God is attentive to suffering. God is invested in the breaking of chains, the ending of harm, the dismantling of systems that crush people’s lives.
And if you’re an atheist like me, what does that mean?
It means you don’t have to believe in a supernatural god to recognize the moral truth underneath it. You don’t have to believe in heaven to know that suffering is real, that harm is real, and that systems can be built to crush people or to free them. You don’t need a deity to tell you that oppression is wrong. You can see it in bodies, in communities, in history.
So when Black Liberation Theology says, “God is on the side of the oppressed,” what I hear is this: justice must be on the side of the oppressed. Humanity must be on the side of the oppressed. We must choose, deliberately and consistently, to stand where the harm is happening and work to end it.
Because whether you call it god, or conscience, or ethics, or human responsibility, the demand is the same. End the harm. Break the chains. Tell the truth.
Now let me say something that might make some of y’all shift in your seats. It is okay to long for the end of evil people. It is okay to imagine a world where evil people no longer have the power to harm. It is okay to feel that deep, quiet sense of release at the thought that one day, what has been hurting people will finally stop.
And before all of this, before colonization, before Christianity reached our people, our West African ancestors already had language for this. They understood that a community cannot survive when harm is allowed to roam unchecked.
Among the Yoruba people, there was a deep belief in balance . . . àṣẹ, the life force that must flow rightly for the community to thrive. And when someone disrupted that balance through cruelty, violence, or corruption, it was not just a personal failing. No, it was a communal threat.
Among the Akan people, moral order or what some call sankofa, the act of remembering and correcting, meant that wrongdoing had to be confronted so the community could remain whole. And across many of our traditions, there was an understanding that when a harmful force was removed, whether through exile, judgment, or death, it was not simply the end of a person.
It was the restoration of balance. It was the community breathing again. It was life correcting itself. So the focus was never on celebrating death as spectacle. It was on honoring the return of harmony. It was on protecting the living. It was on making sure that what was destructive could no longer take root among the people.
Amen?!!
So when we wrestle with this feeling, that sense of release when harm ends, we are not outside of tradition. We are standing in a long lineage of people who understood that life requires balance, and sometimes balance requires that what is harmful no has the ability to breathe.
Church, what you are celebrating is not death itself. You are celebrating the end of harm. You are celebrating the shutting down of cruelty. You are celebrating the breaking of power that was never used for good. You are celebrating that people who had to survive that harm, no longer have to.
That’s what Proverbs is pointing to. Not a party for death, but a release from what death has ended. So yes, it is absolutely human to look toward the day when evil no longer has breath. You are not celebrating a body. You are celebrating the end of what that body was allowed to do.
But don’t let that longing turn you into something hard, something bitter, or something that mirrors the very thing you’re waiting to be free from. But liberation theology also warns us not to let your longing for freedom turn into a comfort with cruelty. Because liberation is not just about what ends. It’s about who you remain when it does.
So when harm ends, when oppressive power falls, when systems that terrorize people lose their grip, there is a kind of spiritual exhale that takes place. The goal is freedom. The goal is LIFE.
The goal is to be able to say, truthfully, that what ended was not just a person, but the evil they carried with them.
Give the lord a praise.
Let us pray.
God of truth, and for those of us who don’t use that name, source of justice, conscience, and life.
Steady our hearts. Where we have been wounded, tend to us. Where we have carried anger, hold us. Where we have seen harm go unchecked, strengthen our resolve to end it.
Help us to tell the truth about evil without becoming consumed by it. Help us to long for justice without losing our humanity. Because you know, and we know, there are names sitting heavy in this room. There are people in power right now that folks are watching, waiting, wondering what the world will feel like when they are no longer able to do what they’ve been doing.
You know the names, dear lord. We don’t even have to say them out loud.
But while we wait, guard our spirits. Don’t let our longing for justice
turn into a comfort with cruelty. Don’t let our hearts harden. Help us to tell the truth about harm without becoming what harmed us.
And when the day comes that evil loses its grip, not just in one life, but in systems, in policies, in power, let us meet that moment with clarity, with integrity, and with a commitment to build something better in its place.
And when that great gettin’ up morning comes, when cruelty no longer has the final word, let us not be bitter. Let us not be broken. But let us be free enough, whole enough, clear enough to stand up in that moment and say: We made it.
And yes, let us dance together on that great gettin’ up morning. Until then, keep us steady. Keep us honest. Keep us human.
Let the church say Amen, Amen, and Amen.
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