Walking While Black ?

One summer a few years ago, I rented a room from a woman and her 18-year-old son. The mother was a single mom, devoted to her son, Lonnie. She was a nurse, and worked hard (plus rented out part of her house) to have enough income to send him to school, provide his clothes and books, and to be sure he had a chance to thrive in America when he was grown.

Except almost every day, the love which she showered upon him was ripped away in some way. He was told around town, in a variety of ways, that he wasn't welcome. Young people aren't strong enough yet to bear up under this constant message. Lonnie's likelihood of "thriving" was decreasing every day, despite his mother's constant love and labor.

A typical example happened of what happened so often while I was there: Lonnie's Mom sent him to the store for a dozen eggs -- just a mile down the street -- and instead of a short to-the-store-and-back trip using Mom's car, Lonnie didn't return for an hour. She worried and fretted until he came through the back door; his shoulders were slumped.

"What happened?" she asked her son.

Lonnie's face moved between frustration and tears. "I was just driving to the store, Mom, and they pulled me over."

Turned out he'd been pulled over by the police, searched and held street-side for a while, before they told him he could go. His mom said,  "Almost every time Lonnie drives, the police pull him over. He can't just go to the store without going through a humiliation of some sort. And the same happens to his black friends, too."

Lonnie's Hope Dims...

Here was her son, still an adolescent, being told almost daily that he didn't have much chance in a "white man's world." That just being "Lonnie" was a weight on his back. She could see his hope dimming, and she knew that where hope vanished, life burns out.

And she knew she had no power to change anything. She was black, too. She knew the drill.

Same thing again: but it got filmed

Earlier this week, we saw this same type of event played out in Minneapolis. Except this time, consequences were visible to the entire world on film. This time, it wasn't just a mother who was sad for her son. We all saw and experienced it. A life was lost in eight minutes, not eight years. We saw it: a black man pinned to the ground, under an officer's body weight to his neck. Likely his carotid artery was blocked and blood didn't get to his brain for eight minutes. No pulse. The video didn't show him resisting arrest or being violent in any way.

He was black, in a "white man's world."

Where is our faith?

As I was reading scripture last evening, a passage jumped out at me. It speaks to the vast difference between we say and what we do. The author describes the situation this way, as he talks about "faith." He describes a man who says he has faith, but doesn't help someone who desperately needs it:

15 Suppose you see a brother or sister who has no food or clothing, 16 and you say, “Good-bye and have a good day; stay warm and eat well”—but then you don’t give that person any food or clothing. What good does that do?

17 So you see, faith by itself isn’t enough. Unless it produces good deeds, it is dead and useless.

18 Now someone may argue, “Some people have faith; others have good deeds.” But I say, “How can you show me your faith if you don’t have good deeds? I will show you my faith by my good deeds.”

19 You say you have faith, for you believe that there is one God. Good for you! Even the demons believe this, and they tremble in terror. 20 How foolish! Can’t you see that faith without good deeds is useless? (James 2:15-19 NLT)

Christ must be sobbing at this daily treatment of His children. I know Lonnie's mother was.

Questions I'm asking...

I am asking myself two questions. The first relates to my own actions as they relate to individual people. The second deals with my part in the larger society in which I live:

1. "How can I show Christ's love to my black neighbors?" Lord knows, they need some of it.
2. "What is my part in helping fix the system that allows such unfairness to exist in my community, and all across America?"  Christ, please guide me not to just talk about this, but tell me the action you want, as part of your larger plan, so all of your Children can have everyday love and encouragement. 

Do I Love My Neighbor?

“Don’t tell me what to do! It’s my right to do what I want!” We hear this all the time.

Ever since America was settled, we have had a constant tug-of-war between two distinct and valid viewpoints: “my rights as an individual” versus “what’s best for the common good.” We see this tension play out in everyday situations. Sometimes we resolve it, but sometimes we leave it unanswered, because, well, it’s just too hard.

On occasion, our society has answered the question:

• We’ve pretty much decided that it’s not someone’s right to drive drunk and endanger others on the highway. Laws have been passed.
• We’ve decided that people shouldn’t be forced to breathe air that contains cancer-causing agents from secondhand smoke, or from the factory floor. Laws have been passed.
• We’ve decided that my right to own a military-style weapon wins out over the danger that the use of that weapon might result in multiple deaths. The second amendment has prevailed.

But often we have trouble figuring out whether “individual rights” should prevail. Maybe folks are too angry to listen to one another. Maybe financial interests cloud judgments. Maybe we truly just can’t decide what’s best.

Here’s the thing: Christ left behind a really simple rule which can serve us as a guide in these decisions. When he was asked, “What’s the greatest commandment,” he actually gave two commandments, the second of which was, “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

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Jesus replied, ‘You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. A second is equally important: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ Matthew 22:37 (NLT)

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How does this apply to everyday life? Simple. No matter what my own rights are, my neighbor’s rights are at least as important. If I truly want to treat my neighbor with the same care as I would want, then I will never behave in such a way that might harm my neighbor.

We’re living this out today: consider face-masks, which have been shown important to Covid virus control. The mask doesn’t protect the wearer so much as it protects everyone around him or her. A University of California study has determined that if 80% of people were to wear face-masks, then the rate of transmission of the Covid virus would be cut to 8.3% of its former rate. Other countries have used this simple strategy to simply stop the virus in its tracks.

Why don’t we do this as a country? Well, it’s the old “individual rights” debate again. America’s people seem to resist being told to do anything, even if it’s for the common good.

Maybe it’s time we learned to apply Christ’s teachings to everyday life: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Then the decision to wear a mask wouldn’t need a law—just consideration of our neighbor.

The New Post-Covid Normal?

My phone rang, and I answered it, “Hello?” I knew his voice the instant I heard it. It was Alan, my cousin. We hadn’t talked for quite some time, but we visited for almost an hour before we ended. When I put the phone down, I felt warm all over, and realized just how precious it has become to talk with people during this time of “social isolation.” My relationships with people have become more important than most other things.

Later that day, with some time to spare, I picked up my Bible and sat down to hear God’s Word. It was quiet. My mind wasn’t racing with long to-do lists—to the contrary, it was clear, and I was undistracted: I was in “listening” mode. Scripture that afternoon spoke to me so much louder than six months ago, when everything was bustling. I had heard God in that quiet.

As I placed the Bible back in its place, I glanced out the window—and stopped in my tracks. The sky was a color of blue I had only seen in a few places on earth: this beautiful, soft baby-blue, mixed with lily-white clouds gleaming in the sunshine. I just stood and gazed, taking in the beauty. Later, I learned why the sky was so blue. I read that airline flights are down by 75%, that auto traffic is down by 40%, oil consumption is down, and that coal use is down by almost half. On the other hand, solar electric generation has increased greatly over the past several months. The result: the air is simply clearer. That explained this ultra-blue sky! The planet is happier and healthier.

I sat down in a chair by the window, to gaze out the window at this beautiful sky. A fleeting thought crossed my mind. “Wouldn’t it be nice if I had that package of software?” Months ago, I would likely have instantly made a few clicks and ordered it—at a cost of several hundred dollars a year. But now, with this slower pace, I had (and took) the time to pray about it, and to listen for the Lord’s guidance before I made a decision like this. His message came back clear: “That’s not a good way to use the resources I’ve given you. How will that software package help you advance the Kingdom of God on earth? Is that just a ‘want’ or is that a ‘need’?” I knew this slower pace had created the atmosphere for me to listen for—and hear—Christ’s voice clearer than back in the hustle of pre-Covid life.

We are all wondering what the “new normal” will look like when life emerges from this pandemic. Romans 8:28 promises us that “in all things God works for the good of those who love him.”

Maybe, after Covid, we will continue to treasure our human relationships over our possessions. Maybe, just maybe, we will have learned that “slow and simple” is better, that the silence and slowness enables us to hear God more clearly, and that Scripture can speak more clearly to us. Maybe through this, our relationships with God will continue to grow. Maybe we will learn that it’s easier than we think to take care of God’s creation.

In short, maybe we will be better at “loving the Lord with all our hearts, and loving our neighbors as ourselves.” Maybe a new day is dawning in our journeys with Christ?