In the height of social distancing I
spent some time culling photos. There were photos of places I
couldn’t name the exact location nor did I recall the circumstances
that placed me there. These were photos of beautiful places but dull
in color due to old equipment and novice photography. The photos were
finally released to the trash bin partially because of poor quality
and I no longer had any personal connection to the story in the
photos.
It
came to my mind this morning that the gaping wound of racism is
caused, in part, by our lack of personal connection to people
different than ourselves. I have moved away from listening to the
media and what the culture is telling me to believe. I am spending a
lot of time alone seeking God, reading His Word, praying, confessing
my own sin, and grieving about how we as a culture are leaving God
out and mistreating each another. I seek to grow in awareness of my
own biases,
to confess them and seek to see others through the eyes of Jesus.
This
may not seem enough for some. With the grand scale of information or
misinformation, and visual stimuli on the news and social media, I
know this is a bigger problem than I can handle. But acknowledging
this does not relieve me of personal responsibility. So what is my
responsibility?
The
first and best place I must go is to the Word of God. Everyone has an
agenda – some for the greater good and others for evil. Absolute
truth comes from God, not the media or the government. There is great
danger in allowing ourselves to be manipulated by the culture and to
sort through all the propaganda without the truth of God. God’s way
is perfect love.
I
have been meditating on Philippians 2:1-16 and Luke 10:25-37 (The
Good Samaritan). In Philippians 2 we are charged to have the same
mindset as Christ Jesus. What is His mindset? I am to “in humility
value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but
each of you to the interests of others” and “In your
relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Jesus
Christ”. Jesus made Himself nothing and surrendered to death on the
cross. In love, He gave up His life for us. I am to give my life for
Christ and in loving service to others no matter their ethnicity or
plight in life. I cannot do this without the transforming power of
the Holy Spirit. But I must be willing to be transformed.
As
I read and prayed through these passages over the past two weeks, I
was reminded there is no room for me to say who is worthy and who is
not. To love as Jesus loves, I must be willing to love everyone; all
are created in the image of God. I must be willing to be
inconvenienced; love costs – I must lay down my needs, my desires
for comfort, my plans, my money, my time, my opinion, etc. And Jesus
makes it clear there are no national boundaries to His love and to
the love He calls me. So how is this being worked out in my life
these days?
I
am beginning with a Biblical worldview, not a political worldview,
not any organization’s worldview, not another person’s worldview.
I must begin with God’s view. I grew up in during the 60s and 70s,
the Civil Rights Movement, and I believed things were much better
than they were. Maybe in some ways they are but not enough to bring
healing and unity between blacks and whites. What can I do to make a
difference? It’s beyond me.
The
deep rumblings of anger in our country around racism challenged me to
take a closer look at my heart and listen to the true life journeys
of black brothers and sisters. I do not want to react to the culture
with an insincere, grandiose gesture. I want to listen, in
relationship, as individuals share their experiences. But I must also
consider anyone I may have a bias toward or feel uncomfortable with
because of differences. It comes down to my heart. What’s in my
heart towards another? We are to love one another. To love our
neighbor as ourselves – not meaning just the people next door but
everyone God puts in our paths. How do I show the love of God all day
to everyone I meet regardless of skin color, position in society,
their sin, etc? Love does not equal agreement. But love is respecting
others, considering others better than myself and loving others as I
love myself. This is a hard challenge, but I am not left to my own
devices.
I
need to pause here and make sure I am clear about a few things. First
and foremost, as a Christian, I want to live from a Biblical
worldview. That does mean I have to study and pray to keep purifying
my mind from the culture’s influence. Second, I need to love others
period. I cannot love sincerely without God – He is love and His
love is pure. Third, the greatest changes will happen within the
context of relationship. I need to consider how relational I am to
those God brings into my life. Am I genuinely interested in them or
just trying to look good or keep the peace? Am I hospitable to those
around me? I love what Jan Johnson has to say about hospitality:
“To
welcome strangers means to cultivate an invitational spirit and offer
a sense of ‘home’ to others (see John 14:23). We pay attention to
others, inviting them to be at home with us as they unfold themselves
before us. ‘To merely welcome another, to provide for them, to make
a place, is one of the most life-giving and life-receiving things a
human being can do.’ Some call this discipline ‘hospitality,’
but unfortunately hospitality has become limited to inviting others
to eat with us or stay in our home. . . . the core of hospitality is
to be open and vulnerable to a person’s need. . . . A stranger . .
. Anyone we’re tempted to exclude or ignore.”
We
have a lot of problems in our country and some are race related. Am I
hospitable? Am I loving others as I love myself? Am I reflecting
Jesus in my relationships and in my treatment of strangers? How have
I contributed to division? How am I helping bring about healing? I
will find myself indifferent if I do not get out of my comfort zone
and diversify my personal relationships. Just as old photos without
signs or people in them become meaningless so will my attitude become
toward people groups in which I do not bother to hear their stories
and learn their names and be a friend.
NOTE: Among
some of the online things I’ve read, contemplated, or listened to,
here are a few I would encourage you to check out:
Look up and consider
Dinah Roe Kendall’s painting: Good Samaritan. Would you be the
Samaritan? What gets in the way of you helping people different than
you? Can you allow yourself to be the wounded one here, the
vulnerable one?
When
studying for my master’s degree I met Sherry Puckett. Sherry is a
godly woman and wonderful person. She gave permission to share this
portion from her Facebook page about her family history as long as
she is tagged. Thank you Sherry.
My family history story during
slavery.
My
great grandmother was a big part of my life growing up. Her parents
were slaves in Virginia and my father’s family were slaves in
Georgia.
My
great great grandfather (a slave) was friends with the slave owner’s
son. When the slave owner’s son was old enough to go to school, he
refused to go without his best friend, my great great grandfather.
After throwing a real fit, my grandfather was permitted to go to
school with him but had to sit in the back of the room and could not
talk or interact with the other white children. My grandfather
learned to read before anyone else, and ended up teaching the slave
owner’s son how to read and write! Only God could have
orchestrated this! It was illegal for slaves to read. Years later
when the slaves were freed, my great great grandfather started a
church and began teaching the Bible to newly-freed slaves! I often
think of this when I look at my boys and their thirst for learning.
When I had to discipline my oldest son, Jeremiah, I would have to
take away our trips to the library as punishment. Worked every time!
Lol
When
I think of this story I feel connected to my great great grandfather
because I also love teaching God’s word.
Most
stories of slaves in my family tree were too painful for my great
grandparents to pass on. We only heard about divine interventions
and answers to prayer. Slaves were punished for praying, so I’m
certain that their groanings uttered in the middle of the night
ascended as incense before the throne of God. I’m sure they prayed
for freedom and a better day. And God heard, and He still hears.
Today
I am a woman of faith because of those who suffered at the hand of
their oppressors. In spite of it all, I was taught the power of
love. Love for everyone! I was taught that my destiny is safe in the
hands of almighty God. No one has the power to rob me of my Destiny
when I trust Him. Like my grandma used to say with a beautiful smile
on her face, “Remember, Ain’t nobody God but God.”
