Category: Race Relations

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Leveling the Playing Field

My brother, David, is three years my elder. My namesake was the best friend to King David, as our names were to define our relationship. And growing up, it did. Like the biblical David and Jonathan in the Bible, my brother and I shared much of our lives. We inhabited the same bedroom, even sleeping on bunk beds for a while. We collected baseball cards. We climbed the cherry tree in our backyard. We delivered papers together on our matching Schwinn Heavy-Duty bicycles. An open game of Monopoly was set up as we kept a continuous game moving forward. (On a side note, I never beat him, but I always owned Park Place and Boardwalk, the only property I wanted to own, which may explain why I never beat him.) We played baseball, basketball, and whiffle ball. Playing basketball in the backyard is where David figured out how to level the playing field.

The patio in our backyard was a perfect spot for either one-on-one or two-on-two basketball. The uniqueness of the court was the patio roof, which was some eleven to twelve feet high, allowing the backboard to be securely snugged between the porch roof and the patio ceiling. It also meant shooting outside shots took a lot of skill, because we had no room for an arch. On the plus side, the rim was just over eight feet which made for some good slam dunks when we were teens. David, on the other hand, being older and bigger than me, simply backed me down under the hoop for an easy hook shot or layup.

We loved playing together, but David had the upper hand. He took complete advantage of his size, and rightly so. But let’s be honest, neither one of us had a fun time, especially me. So he develop a game in order to level the playing field. The rules were simple. The score is tied with twenty-four seconds left in the game. We have a five second shot clock. David was in charge of keeping the “game clock,” and I was in charge of the “shot clock.” After every dead ball, he reiterated how much time was left in “the game.” Amazingly, his idea worked. He didn’t have time to back me down as he had to put up a quick shot. I, on the other hand, had a fighting chance to score. If my memory serves me right, we generally split the series, making his idea a success. The playing field was leveled.

As much as we want to believe that everyone stands on equal footing to succeed at life, the truth is far from reality. The playing field is hardly level. Some people have an easier time navigating life than others, the reasons are varied and often complex. For instance, while I have been blessed with a lifelong foundation of academic studies – I attended private, strong academic schools – I struggled with my grades. If I was in school today, they would diagnose me with ADHD, instead of just telling me to work harder. “Work harder” was my advice on academic success. Growing up my reading, reading-comprehension, math skills, and recall were always behind the curve. Even today, as much as I love to read, I’m still far slower than most people who hold the same passion. I found myself muddling through school while my classmates thrived. Academics were far from a level playing field, at least for me.

Those who teach will confirm that so many factors come into play which determine the success children have at school. Home life is one of those factors. A child returning home to parents who are engaged, helpful, and encouraging their children to learn have an advantage over a child going home to parents disengaged, absent, or talks despairingly about the school, teacher, or learning in general. Never mind how poverty, race, or the impact of the opioid crisis has had on family life and its link to our educational system. No, the playing field is anything but level.

A few years ago I listened to a speaker share his experience visiting an inmate at a state penitentiary. As he drove through the poorer section of the city in route to the penitentiary, he noticed an old abandoned school, boarded up. Driving further, he saw another school fallen into disarray. Before reaching his destination he discovered a third school facing the same deterioration. He inquired about their status only to be told that the three schools could no longer be funded so they were consolidated. “Oh, did they build a new school?” he probed with hope. “No,” he was told, “they were now meeting in the one school building that was still deemed habitable.” No future plans were made to build a new school, as the county lacked the funds. Soon, their car turned toward the prison. He described it as a brand new, state-of-the-art, multi-million dollar facility with all the bells and whistles appropriately. The correlation and causation were intertwined. No funds were available to invest in education, but plenty of funds to incarcerate uneducated people suffering from a broken system and uneven playing field.

The inequality experience reaches beyond education. Statistics bear out that males make more money than females, while performing the same job. Minorities make even less money when comparing them to those who make up the majority. We saw this over the past few years. As we endured COVID it became clear that everyone was facing the same storm, but not everyone was in the same boat. The playing field is anything but level.

Paul was very aware that the playing field in Palestine was un-evened. Back in Acts 11 a prophet named Agabus foretold that a severe famine was striking the region with devastating effects (Act. 11:27-28). While Luke tells us little of the famine or its impact on the region, information on Paul’s response to the famine is clear. Paul refused to turn the suffering into a judgmental sentencing by God through sermons. Instead he solicited help. Every church throughout Asia-Minor was asked to participate. He appealed to them to collect financial aid as relief to send to those distressed under the devastation.

Paul’s move to collect funds for the churches in and around Jerusalem served two purposes. First, Paul hoped the gesture by the Asia-Minor churches might help bridge the racial gap between the Jew and Gentile believers. Churches in Asia-Minor were predominantly Gentile in nature. Churches in Jerusalem and the surrounding vicinity were, as expected, comprised of Jewish Christians. The Jews had a built-in suspect of Gentile Christians because they ignore key doctrinal issues dear to the heart of the Jews. They rejected circumcision, refused to celebrate holy days like Passover, and ate unclean foods like pork. Paul very likely believed that Gentile churches, collecting funds to help their brothers and sisters in Christ whom they have never met but felt the estrangement, might bring the two groups together. Might. While we don’t know how well the collection helped bridge the gap, it’s not hard not to imagine that the gift helped move the needle some.

Secondly, Paul explicitly says that the collected gift was a means to financially level the playing field. Drawing from the Exodus story, the Israelites woke up every morning to find the ground covered with the wafer God had provided. All they had to do was go out to pick up what their family needed. Quoting from Exodus, Paul notes, “Those who collected much did not have too much, and those who collected little did not have too little” (Ex. 16:18; 2 Cor. 8:15). God provided equality as everybody had as much as they needed.  

Like today, the first century society was comprised of the “haves” and “have-nots.” Balancing the scales among the believers means that the “haves” share with the “have-nots,” so that those who have, can share with those who do not have, in order that all will have some (2 Cor. 8:13). The goal is equality. By being people who are willing to share, we act as a buffer between us and society, a society that wants to keep the playing field disproportionally un-leveled so that those in power can keep their position of power. In our generosity, we help seek equality among the people we encounter.

And the beauty of such generosity is like bread upon the water. Somehow, what is cast upon the water always tends to come back. Always.

I once saw a video of homeless people engaging each other, almost like it was a study in human interaction. A man, pretending to be homeless, approached a number of business people having lunch. The actor tried telling his sad story and how hungry he was only to be turned away by each individual. Later, the actor struck up a conversation with a homeless man, sharing his sad mock story. He casually dropped the detail that he had not eating in four days and was very hungry. They parted ways and he went down the street to sit in a corner to wait out time. Not long afterward, a man arrived with a pizza for the elderly homeless man. Granted, the homeless man was not panhandling, but just sitting looking disheveled. The homeless man graciously, and with great gratitude, thanked the man for the pizza. Then he stood up and walked down the street to find the man pretending to be homeless. He sat next to the man and shared his meal, and not only with him, but with the other homeless as well. In his own little way, that homeless man was leveling the playing field, at least for the moment.

What my twelve-year old brother realized was that life is not fair, but instead of being satisfied with the unfair moment, he stepped in to create a sense of fairness. He brought equity where there was parody. He balanced the terms so that equality was established. It’s what Paul was hoping by collecting aid to send to the believers in Jerusalem during their deadly famine. And when we walk into patient’s homes, we do the same thing.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)

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To Suffer With

The movie 42 tells the story of baseball’s black barrier being broken by Jackie Robinson through the brilliant business transactions of Branch Rickey, owner of the Brooklyn Dodgers. In one particular scene Rickey drops two common English words with deep Greek roots. First, after Philadelphia manager, Ben Chapman, unloaded a verbal tirade of abuse on Jackie Robinson drenched in hateful racism, Rickey noted the irony that the city draws its name from the Greek, “phileo” which means love and “adelphos” which means brother. Thus, Chapman, not to mention the city itself, was acting anything like the “City of Brotherly Love” they try to market. But then, secondly, Ricky makes a profound statement that the Greek word for sympathy means, “to suffer with.” Chapman’s approach is backfiring, at least according Ricky. Instead of galvanizing Americans further into racism, he’s creating sympathy for Jackie. People are stepping into that sympathy “to suffer with,” unbeknownst to them, the future Hall of Famer.

We live in a world filled with suffering, and you don’t have to look very long or hard to find it. Another school shooting creates more emotional scars. Children go to bed hungry and often abused by the adults who are charged with caring for them. We walk into homes on a regular basis as our patients, stricken with a terminal disease, seek comfort while family members seek a direction. Suffering is like the poison ivy in your backyard, we can cut it away or kill it with chemicals, but it will grow back, wrap its vines around you in order to suffocate the life out of you. Simply, to suffer in this world means we are participants in a fallen world, ravished by sin and evil. No one is immune or exempt. It’s not about suffering in and of itself. We all experience suffering. It’s about something more.

Paul is pleading with the Corinthians to reconcile their relationship. Part of the problem is that Paul’s suffering has become a stumbling block to their perception of the gospel. Surely someone who has undergone such a vast amount of suffering cannot have God’s favor. We might think of it like this: good things happen to good people while bad things happen to bad people. Too many bad things have happened to Paul. His suffering wasn’t the only reason the church was pulling away from him, but it was a factor. It may have been a huge factor. And Paul wants to remove that obstacle so that, not only can reconciliation occur, but also that the gospel can be clearly experienced.

Second Corinthians 6:4-10 contains an affliction list which leads us to suffer with each other. The list can be broken down in four smaller bite size increments, with each having its own theme. Let’s look at them now (from Scott Hafemann, 2 Corinthians, NIV Application Commentary, 269-270).

● Facing Hardship (v. 4b-5), Paul says in the first group, “. . . in great endurance; in troubles, hardships and distresses; in beatings, imprisonments and riots; in hard work, sleepless nights and hunger . . ..” Life is difficult in and of itself. We all deal with troubled relationships, financial setbacks, and failing health. Even more is the challenge to stand by faith convictions, especially when we’re in the minority. The pushback can hurt, particularly when the resistance is from an unexpected source.

● Displayed Graces (v. 6-7a), he continues with the second troupe, “in purity, understanding, patience and kindness; in the Holy Spirit and in sincere love; in truthful speech and in the power of God . . ..” Such language draws us to the Fruit of the Spirit from Galatians 5:22-23. God works through us, not always in the big moments like having the faith to move mountains, but more so in the small daily increments of faith as small as a mustard seed. It’s the little things we do every day that tend to mount up over time of being authentic Christians. Just because they tend to be small, doesn’t mean being patient or kind or pure is easy. It’s not. And it wears you out trying to live on such a plane.

● Life’s Ups and Downs (v. 7b-8), he adds in the third cluster, “with weapons of righteousness in the right hand and in the left; through glory and dishonor, bad report and good report; genuine, yet regarded as imposters . . ..” Whatever life throws at us does not alter our behavior. Whether we are on a mountain high or depths of a valley, who we are won’t change. We live consistently, certainly not dependent on which way the wind is blowing at the moment. By the way, one can see Paul’s hurt bleeding through as he’s been given a bad report by someone touting him as an imposter. No matter the report, Paul remains genuine in his faith and dealings with Corinth.

● Divine Deliverance (v. 9-10), he concludes with the final set, “known, yet regarded as unknown; dying, and yet we live on; beaten, and yet not killed; sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, and yet possessing everything.” Oscillating between extremes is not an uncommon experience. People know us, but then they are surprised by our behavior because they do not really know us. We weep, but find great joy in living. We’re not wealthy, though in America we are, but what we bring to people – a smile, a hug, a word of encouragment, or the gospel itself – is beyond measurement by wealth standard. 

While there is so much more to unpack here and beyond the amount of time we’re allotted, it’s clear that we have two takeaways. First, the suffering Paul experiences places him right in the middle of Christ’s own suffering. Undoubtedly some of the things mentioned can be a direct correlation of his faith and following Jesus. That said, some of the things he mentions are about navigating life in general. Secondly, his endurance through suffering is a result of the resurrection of Christ living out in him. The power within Paul to endure suffering does not come from himself, but from God. We identify with Christ crucified through our suffering, but we’re empowered by the resurrected Christ to endure such suffering. We suffer with Christ and others on Good Friday, but live with power to press on and endure from Easter Sunday.

Paul’s decision to endure through suffering is not the end game. As Paul is pleading with the church for reconciliation, he is removing the stumbling blocks (v. 3), and views himself as a father figure to the church (v. 13) and has opened his heart to them in hopes that they reciprocate (v. 12). In doing so Paul is neither just suffering alone, nor is he simply suffering with Christ. Paul is enduring the hardships and trials as a means to suffer with the church in Corinth. Paul is calling them or us to sympathize through our suffering.

Sometime after I started working in hospice, I was asked to sit with a patient in a nursing home. I had never met the patient nor the family. I had no emotional ties to them. He was an elderly man with a granddaughter in her early twenties. Eventually, the patient passed while I watched the family mourn. I saw the granddaughter weeping over her grandfather. I was soaking in the scene, then began viewing my life in twenty some-odd years. I imagined the scene before me with my granddaughter weeping over me. I quickly left the scene behind, and as they were leaving, I offered prayer. During the prayer, and feeling the emotion of the family, I started getting a little emotional myself, even choking up a bit. I now realize that I was identifying with the family as I was suffering with them.

Back to the movie 42 and the Jackie Robinson story. When the Dodgers came to Cincinnati to face the Reds, Pee Wee Reese met with Branch Rickey hoping to opt out of the series. Reese was from Ekron, Kentucky, a hop, skip, and a jump to Cincinnati where his family comes to watch him play. In the movie he had received a letter from a fan speaking for the so-called silent majority about playing with Robinson; among other things, Reese was called a “carpet bagger,” because he was accused of acting like a post-Civil War northerner profiting off of the South. Rickey acknowledged the bind Reese was in as he walked over to a filing cabinet filled with hate letters intercepted by Rickey with death threats to Robinson, his wife, and even their son. The names he was called should not be uttered or repeated. Reese backtracked and wished he could just play baseball. Just. Play. Baseball. Rickey agreed, and wished Jackie could just play baseball too without the racist names, hate mail, and leading the league in being hit by a pitch.

The conversation was a turning point for Pee Wee. Before the crowd at Cincinnati Reese walked over to Robinson, whether historical or myth, he put his arm around Jackie. It was a public form of identification. Pee Wee saw Jackie as something or someone more than a teammate. He saw him as a fellow human being. Thus, Reese was willing to stand with, to sympathize, and to suffer with Jackie.

Maybe we need to stop dehumanizing people and start perceiving them through the lenses of Jesus. When we do, we then can stand with, sympathize with, and suffer with them. It may be the most Jesus act we can do.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)

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A Royal Headache: The Strings Attached to the Crown

News from across the pond travels as fast as soundwaves, and is often felt like shockwaves reverberating on the waters. This week was no different as Harry and Meghan sat down with Oprah in a tell-all interview. Some of the details they outlined were headline-grabbing giving Buckingham Palace a royal headache. But are we really surprised? The Royal Family has had its fair share of drama from Charles and Diana to Charles and Camilla to Andrew’s link to Jeffery Epstein. The Royals could produce their own reality TV and, no doubt, be a blockbuster sell.

Harry and Meghan have abandoned their connection to the monarchy and moved to America to seek their lives independent of Great Britain. From Harry’s perspective he lost his mother and lays much of the blame on the British media. The same British media intruding on his private life then is intruding on his life now. He levels another part of the blame on The Firm, the insider term to describe the destructive and controlling system overlaying the Monarchy. That same system squeezed out his mother and was already squeezing out his wife. Clearly, being a Royal means that there are strings attached to the crown, and sometimes those strings have tangled with people’s lives. Fearing for their future, they chose to cut the strings, sort of, and walk away from the system to pursue life on their own terms.

I didn’t sit down to watch the interview, I have other things to worry about than tuning into wealthy, aristocratic sibling rivalry. But the interview blew up the news cycle. Even though the colonies broke from the Empire over 200 years ago, like an abusive relationship, we’re too emotionally attached to a family that has no control over our lives. So with Oprah leading the way, America (and other parts of the world) tuned in to what Harry and Meghan had to say. And they said a lot.

As much as I like Harry, and obviously I don’t know him personally, choosing a tell-all format is an unhealthy way to deal with conflict. In fact, it’s a power move because they have inside information they’re willing to share select pieces of with the world. They have evidence that should be kept within the confines of Buckingham Palace. Tell-all venues feed the goods and gossip, making you feel good in the moment. Unfortunately, the fallout leaves you feeling dirty. Sure, Harry tried protecting his grandmother from accusation, but the fan is too large to keep her from being hit with the words. What is clear is that between Diana and Meghan’s experience, the Cinderella-type stories are lies built with a house of cards. Ordinary people have no common identity with the Royals.

But two other statements from the interview are worth highlighting because they reach beyond aristocratic and paupers. The first is the fear of seeking mental health for the supposed stigma attached to it. Meghan was undergoing an emotional breakdown and the palace was afraid of the news media having a field day with that information. Denial of a problem is the real sign of weakness; seeking help is step of strength. Owning weakness is not only biblical but at the heart of the gospel (2 Cor. 12:5, 9-10). I’m not sure how the media would have responded, but I know individuals suffering are fearful of what people around them will say if they found out. Someone struggling with depression keeps suffering in silence. A marriage begins to unravel but signing up for counseling might expose the façade they’ve managed to create, so the marriage continues to unravel. Someone fears going to the doctor because something else wrong might be discovered. In the process, the condition worsens. Real strength acknowledges our weakness and steps into getting help.

The other statement came, not from Harry’s grandparents, but from the Firm. He refused to share the source, family or staff members, but the statement is disturbing at so many levels. “They” were disturbed by the possible skin tone of Harry and Meghan’s baby, Archie. People obsessed with optics rarely are concerned about people, but are focused on themselves. As unnerving as a preoccupation with skin color is, God has never focused on color. He’s focused on the heart (1 Sam. 16:7). Our own sinfulness keeps us from embracing and celebrating the diversity of God’s color scheme. Or the vision Martin Luther King once conveyed, we judge people not on the color of their skin but on the content of their character.

Before Meghan married Harry, British comedian, John Oliver, said that the Royal family was “. . . an emotionally stunted group of fundamentally flawed people.” He’s probably right. When anyone or family is focused on image and optics, then issues will be ignored and swept under the carpet. When a person or family of power is concerned with only image and optics, then the damage in its wake is severe. But we don’t have to be a Royal family to experience such dysfunction. We can take an honest look at ourselves.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)

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Loosing Everything while Fading to Black & White like the Son Going Down on Me

As Archie Williams took the stage for his two minutes to shine on America’s Got Talent, my heart began aching as I gasped, hoping, “Please don’t fail.” While I had yet to hear him sing, and I was unaware of his story, I just saw what appeared to be a broken man take the stage. He wore a light blue suit that hung on him; actually it wore him more than he wore it. He walked with a bent knee, almost struggling as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. The truth is, he was.

Simon Cowell began the interview. Archie survived thirty-six plus years in the brutal and bloody Louisiana State Penitentiary in Angola, often referred to as the Alcatraz of the South. But he was innocent. Sure, he was convicted, not only of rape, but also of attempted murder of a woman in 1983. But he had witnesses saying he was home. His fingerprints didn’t match the ones at the crime scene. The woman couldn’t identify him in a picture array, at least not at first. But the public was crying for “justice,” and no one really cared if the right man was caught or not. So Archie was innocently walking down his street when the police arrested him. And since he was poor – and since he was black – he couldn’t afford a lawyer and get proper representation. He was found guilty and served a life sentence plus 80 years in hell. The woman and victim was white.  

Redemption, though, came from two sources. He threw himself into Jesus, praying and singing gospel songs with other prisoners, until DNA evidence exonerated him from his sentence. Sure he lost thirty-six years of his life. But in his own words, and in the spirit of Nelson Mandela, “Freedom is of the mind. I went to prison, but I never let my mind go to prison.”

So the music began with a simple piano, and I was hoping beyond hope that he wouldn’t fail. With courage in his heart, his soulful voice began to sing Elton John’s, “Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me.” He slowed the tempo and uttered the words in new and refreshing tones. Listening to his song, it was like hearing it for the first time. It wasn’t long before the audience, stunned in reverent silence, had given him their hearts. When he finished, he brought the crowd to its feet in cheers and me to tears. In one moment he was offered redemption. The weight of the world was lifted. And in that same moment he shared that redemption with love and mercy.  

I looked at my phone. Social media had blown up, not about Archie Williams’ performance, but about George Floyd. The news reported that four Minneapolis police officers were fired from the force for their role in the death of Floyd. Following reports of a forgery, they found Floyd sitting on his car. Suspecting he was guilty, they placed cuffs on him, then claimed he was resisting an arrest. Soon he was on the ground with one of the officers, one of the white officers, pressing his knee on the neck of Floyd, a black man. The move violated police protocol and ignored standard apprehension procedures. The white officer took a knee on the neck of a black man, while Floyd was pleading for his life. “I can’t breathe!” “I can’t breathe!” “I can’t breathe” were the last words spoken by George Floyd.

We are losing everything while fading to black and white, and the Son is going down on me.

To say “we’re struggling to “’love our neighbor’” is an understatement. At present, it’s clear we don’t even know who our neighbor is. Anger. Hatred. Resentment. Pride. Prejudice. Denial. A festering cancer is metastasizing in our society, destroying the very fabric of our own humanity. At best we’re looking the other way as another story appears on our newsfeed that a person of color suffers at the hands of the privileged. At worse, we’re the guilty throwing shade on someone because of their skin’s color. Our actions continue to betray our words. We claim, “Man was made in the image of God,” then disqualify our truth with, “just not that man.” So John reminds us that if we can’t love the people of color, how can we say we love the God who made the people of color (1 Jn. 4:20)?

If we don’t turn the tide toward racial reconciliation, then we’ll lose everything while fading to black and white, with the Son going down on me.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)

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Playing Out of Tune: Choosing Disonance Instead of Harmony

The Hebrews writer calls God’s people to play their lives out in harmony with the people around them (Heb. 12:14). One might argue that seeking peace is a visual demonstration of a holy life, a requirement by God. Since harmony will not happen on its own, we’re called to “make every effort” to ensure a peaceful harmony. Such melodious sound is felt, not only within the church community, but is experienced when we step outside of church doors and into the world.

Unfortunately, too much dissonance has been, and is being, heard in the world. Instead of tuning the world, the church has too often been the source of dissonance. Or worse, the church has chosen silence. How do we speak peace and bring harmony where so much dissonance is heard?

When Botham Jean was murdered by an off-duty Dallas police officer, but still in uniform, he was shot in his own apartment while eating ice cream. The police tried covering it up and began a “smear campaign” against Botham. When Breonna Taylor was murdered by the Louisville Narcotics Department, they were executing a drug warrant at the wrong apartment. The family claims officers never identified themselves before/when breaking in. She was shot eight times. The police are being accused of covering it up while tarnishing her reputation.

Then there’s Ahmaud Arbery who was out for a jog in his Brunswick, Georgia neighborhood when a father and son confronted him as a burglar suspect. Intending to make a citizen’s arrest, the confrontation escalated into an argument, then into a scuffle until he was fatally shot. The attorney assigned to the case failed to file any charges (the father was a former police officer and the son had a job connection). A video showing the altercation had to surface first before a new prosecutor was assigned to the case so that an arrest could be made.

The perpetrators’ story fit in a long line of dissonant voices defaulting to false rational. According to James Cone, The Cross and the Lynching Tree, nearly five thousand people of color were lynched between 1882 and 1968. Most, if not all, were falsely accused and refused due-process. “They looked like trouble” became the measure of justice. A crime was committed, so it was penned on a local black man. Maybe he took a second look at someone’s wife or daughter or the way he strutted offended the white community. Almost like the case in Georgia, Arbery looked suspicious (whatever that means). Arbery looked suspicious, so he was confronted. Their story and rationale really does line up with history whenever people justified a lynching.

If we’re going to help bring harmony, then we need to speak out against the dissonance. As Edmond Burk once said, “The only thing necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.” As long as (white) Christians remain silent, look the other way or gaslight the issue, racism will continue its pervasive infection, destroying our society in the process. Someone has to admit to playing the wrong note, why not us?

If we’re going to help restore harmony, then we need to seek forgiveness for the dissonance. Because of our individualism, we lack the understanding of community sin. No, I didn’t own slaves. No, I have never participated in a lynching. No, I have never used the “N” word against my neighbor. But I am a part of a society whose history is filled with those actions. If I claim the good in this nation, then I need to be willing to own the bad.

If we’re going to help restore harmony, then we need to educate ourselves on the dissonance and its causes. No doubt, too many assumptions have been made and it’s past time to view the world trough someone else’s eyes (see 2 Cor. 5:16ff [Paul addresses reconciliation]). Talk to the Black community. Read James Cone or others like him. Take a day and tour the Underground Railroad Museum in Cincinnati. Try to understand the plight of the people of color.

The Hebrews writer calls us to play in tune and to make every effort to achieve in harmony. Left to its own, we’ll never do it. If we make the effort, we have a chance for some beautiful music.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)

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Black & White

“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and right-doing is a field.
I’ll meet you there.”
(ancient proverb)

On a warm September evening, a young man was eating ice cream on his couch in his apartment. He was watching TV when someone entered his apartment and killed him. The simplicity of an innocent man shot and murdered in his own home gives way to the complexity of the situation. The victim was black, and the suspect was white. The victim was a Christian man working with a local church’s youth, and the suspect was an off duty police officer. The victim’s story was simple, though sources tried to convolute it. The suspect’s story never really made sense. The officer worked a double shift and mistook the victim’s apartment for her own (how didn’t she notice the bright red “welcome” mat at the door?). Instead of calling for backup, she immediately pulled her weapon to kill what she thought was an intruder.

The victim, Botham Jean, from Saint Lucia, an island in the eastern Caribbean, was part of my fold. He was rooted in Churches of Christ, baptized at the age of nine, and a graduate of my alma mater, Harding University. From all accounts, he was a leader and servant, always looking to help his community and the people he contacted. All of who he was and could have been was stripped from him by one moment in time.

As we watched this story unfold, and I suspect that Botham’s story continues to unfold, three items are worth underscoring. First, the “black and white” dynamic is too obvious to ignore: a black man is shot to death by a white cop. It’s uncomfortable for me to even write those words. The pieces of evidence that emerged to turn this from a mistaken or careless moment into racism escalated when the Dallas Police Department attempted a smear campaign to discredit Botham’s character (a lawsuit is underway). Then, during the sentencing hearing, the officer’s text messages revealed racially charged statements. Whether or not the murder was racially motivated is still debated. That the officer held on to racists’ thoughts and expressed them to friends makes this moment feel like a racially charged crime.

Secondly, our country is still struggling to find justice in our criminal cases. The now ex-cop was given a 10 year jail sentence with possible parole in five years. The prosecution was hoping for a 28 year sentence to reflect Botham’s age at the time of the incident. She could have been given up to 99 years, which seemed to be the hope of the protesters. The justice system is supposed to be blind, but too often does view the world in “black and white.” Data in the prison systems will confirm that more people of color go to jail, and are given harsher sentences than those who are white. So while the Constitution speaks of equality, the application of the Constitution gets distorted by our own bias, prejudice and preconceived opinions rooted in the color of people. We are a fallen and sinful people.

Finally, the path forward came on the day of sentencing. Botham’s brother, Brandt, took the stand. He looked at the defendant, Amber Guyer, and what could have been words filled with hate and anger, were words filled with compassion and mercy. “I love you,” he said, “just like anyone else and I’m not going to hope you rot and die. I personally want the best for you . . . because I know that’s what Botham would want for you . . ..” He then turned to the judge and asked if he could give Amber a hug. She granted the unorthodox request. Brandt took only a couple of steps toward Amber when she ran into his arms like they were long lost friends reunited, like the way the Prodigal Son should have been welcomed home by his brother.

On a warm October afternoon, a young man is sitting in the grace of his reward and he smiles. He smiles, not because of his reward, but because his Savior gave his brother the power to seek justice, mercy and faithfulness, which is always beyond the black and white.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)

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A Total Eclips of the Heart

With apologies to Bonnie Tyler . . . turnaround because every now and then I get a little tired. Tired of the fight. Tired of the pride. Tired of the anger.  Tired of the blame game. Tired of the incessant need to be right, instead of doing right.  The result is a total eclipse of the heart. 

Since the Charlottesville incident last week, America’s heart has been exposed for what it is – a heart eclipsed by Satan’s will and sin. What we’ve witnessed is a nation in the grips of hatred, racism, and nationalism. The news media and FaceBook have taken sides and have helped feed the frenzy. 

Maybe we’re just trying to figure out how all of this happened. Maybe we’re trying to get our heads wrapped around the events. Or maybe our hearts are that dark, and we’re exposed for what we really are. In the process we’re tearing ourselves apart; when that happens, everyone loses. We need to turnaround.

Turnaround and look at the man hanging on the cross. In that moment, God removed the barrier that existed between himself and mankind. The act was symbolized in the temple when the curtain that prevented access to God was torn from top to bottom (Mt. 27:51). Everyone now has access to God.  No human priest is needed. No human mediator is needed. Jesus fills that role as he escorts mankind into the throne room of God (Heb. 10:19-22). The work at the cross not only removed barriers between mankind and God, but also removed the barriers between each other. We are one in Christ. Paul says that male or female, slave or free, Jew or Gentile, rich or poor, black or white is irrelevant to God (Gal. 3:28), and if it’s relevant to us, it’s because our hearts have been eclipsed by sin. 

Bonnie Tyler is right, in a call for repentance, we need to turnaround. 

Turnaround . . . and realize that the sins of the White Community are coming back to haunt us. No, those of us living today have not been slave owners. But it wasn’t even a hundred years ago (my grandparents era) that the White Community could and did lynch black men for any unprovoked reason and feel justified in doing so. Eighty years ago black communities were forced to live in areas of towns that provided subpar living conditions and education. Sixty years ago the White community could discriminate simply because of the person’s skin color. In my lifetime, whenever black families tried to purchase homes in White Community neighborhoods, they have been met with resistance, followed by White Flight. Listening closely, you still hear racial slurs from White people, even those claiming to follow Jesus. 

At the most, the White Community needs to repent for holding onto racists view and spouting slurs against their black brothers and sisters, and to acknowledge that woven into the fabric of our nation was an unfair advantage given to White people over Black people. At the very least, we need more White leaders to follow the lead of Daniel by identifying with the sins of the nation or church even if we’re not directly guilty ourselves (e.g. Daniel 9:1-20).

Turnaround . . . start choosing the Kingdom of God over Patriotic loyalty, especially when Patriotic idealism clashes with God’s ethic. Some have wondered how the churches in Germany could ever support the Nazi regime. The simple answer was that somewhere along the way, Christians in German were far more loyal to the nation and blinded by the myth and propaganda produced by the government. God’s Kingdom cannot tolerate hate, racism and the dehumanization people which have been so prevalent in America and in the American churches. God, on the other hand embraces color and its diversity as the Spirit always leads toward reconciliation (2 Cor. 5:16-21; Gal. 5:22-23; Eph. 4:4). In the fallout of Charlottesville, we appear to be far more concerned with the well-being of statutes, than we are with the well-being of our fellow man. 

Turnaround . . . and in the midst of fear, choose faith.  I don’t know how life will unfold tomorrow. But we need to choose faith, trust God with the future, and believe that his purpose will endure long after we’re gone. 

Turnaround . . . because once upon a time we were falling in love with Jesus, now we’re only falling apart. We need cleansing from this total eclipse of our hearts. I pray that it happens. 

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. God Is Glorified!)