My friend Phil is bummed.

When we talked on the phone this week nearly the entire conversation was about his 12-year-old daughter's volleyball tryouts. Apparently, in his community, this is the time of year when girls try out for volleyball teams. Unfortunately, Phil's daughter has a shoulder injury that's sidelined her from several of these tryouts.

"My daughter is really disappointed, and discouraged, because volleyball is a big part of her life." says Phil, “And her sadness has the whole house feeling the pain."

I want to both commend and copy Phil.

After all, aren’t we in desperate need of empathy - sure, for our families and our friends - but also for mourners in Pittsburgh, and for a caravan of Central Americans fleeing their homeland for a new life.

On Sunday, we’ll meet some of Jesus’ friends who are also in pain.

Their friend Lazarus has just died.

Mind you, Jesus is about to raise Lazarus from the dead, but nobody knows that yet

What they do know is pain, because a friend is dead.

So what does Jesus do?

He meets them - he listens to them - then he sits with them in their sadness and pain - Jesus wept because his friends, who were mourning the loss of their beloved, wept.

So I have to ask myself: how much am I weeping?

Is Tree of Life enough? What about Charleston - or Newtown? Or a host of other schools and houses of worship that we’ve only heard of because of gun violence?

These things seem to happen so often that I become numb to their pain! And I don't like that about myself.

The tough question is gun safety and mental health treatment - the hard answer is that it starts with me - specifically the empathy I can engender toward those who are suffering.

Change will not happen unless we begin to develop deeper compassion and empathy.

How much am I going to allow these devastating losses to affect me?

Will I look at a candidate’s voting record on gun and mental health issues - will it make a difference?

Will I go to a vigil or attend a rally?

- or even send a card to someone affected?

How I'd really like to blame other people for this senseless pain and suffering - but I find it difficult to start with anyone other than myself.

And that means asking Jesus: Can you give me some of your empathy? I want to be like you, and so I want your compassion and your deep sense of the pain and suffering of others. 

It's because I suspect this is where the solution's going to come from; each one of us feeling each other's pain, walking a mile in their shoes, more deeply understanding the plight of the suffering.

That's a good prayer - Lord, make us weep for the things that make you weep.