Friday, July 8, 2016

A Pastoral Reflection and Confession on Race and Violence

Heartbreak after heartbreak. Violence after violence.

Last night, a peaceful protest in Dallas was interrupted by sniper fire, and five police officers were killed while several others were wounded. Earlier this week, Philando Castile and Alton Sterling were killed in what should have been routine interactions with the police. In times like these, we must strive to heed the apostle Paul’s warning in Romans 12, “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” Overcome evil with good. This is the way of Christ. This is the way of the gospel. When evil surrounds us on every side, we respond with love and forgiveness. When violence threatens to overwhelm us, we strive for peace.

The deaths of these police officers as well as the deaths of Philando Castile and Alton Sterling are tragic examples that “the last enemy to be destroyed is death.” They are tragic examples of the “dividing wall of hostility” that still exists between races in our country. But as followers of Jesus, we are people of resurrection. We are people of restoration and reconciliation. We cannot allow the power of death or hate to derail us from our mission as the people of God and the body of Christ.

In a letter to the Colossian church, the apostle Paul writes the following:
Here there is no Gentile or Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave or free, but Christ is all, and is in all. Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. Colossians 3:11-15a
As Christians, we stand against fear. We stand against hate. We stand against violence. We stand against the lie that every black man is a threat, and we stand against the lie that every police officer is a threat. We recognize the presence of Christ in those who look and think differently from us. We remember that Jesus has torn down the dividing wall of hostility, and we refuse to allow the wall of racism to divide us again. We trust that Jesus’ death and resurrection have removed the sting and victory of death, and we live in the hope and power of his resurrection.

We wear compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience like clothing. We take these virtues everywhere we go and embody them in a world where they are so often lacking. We have a unique opportunity and obligation as the body of Christ to model forgiveness, love, and peace. We don’t have to choose between #blacklivesmatter and #policelivesmatter. Both are true. Both are needed.

So let us join together to lament these tragic deaths. Let us pray fervently for peace and justice. But let us also put action to our prayers. Let us embody sacrificial love that seeks to understand a perspective that is different from ours. Let us seek racial justice for the unarmed black men who are vastly and disproportionately more likely to be killed by the police than unarmed white men, while at the same time we recognize and thank the many good police officers who lay their lives on the line every day to serve and protect. Let us embody the reconciling power of the gospel and live in the peace of Christ that stands boldly in the face of violence all around us.

Even as I write these words, I recognize that I speak from a place of privilege as a white, middle-class male. And I think it’s important for me to name that. As I reflect on the events of the past weeks and months, I am haunted by these prophetic words of Martin Luther King, Jr. in "Letter from a Birmingham Jail":
I must make two honest confessions to you, my Christian and Jewish brothers. First, I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro's great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen's Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to "order" than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: "I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action"; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man's freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a "more convenient season." Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.
And so I add my own confession. I confess that I have too often remained silent because I was not sure how to respond or what I could do. I confess that I was concerned I might be misunderstood or cause offense and thus favored the absence of tension rather than engagement. I confess that I have at times had a shallow understanding of what my black sisters and brothers are going through when people who look just like their family members are killed by the police in the same situations where white people are so often not. I confess that I have not always recognized the ways my privilege shapes my understanding of these events. I don’t worry about what will happen if my brother or my father or myself are pulled over by the police, and that has hindered my understanding and action. But I want a deeper understanding. I want to hear. I want to learn. And I want to join you in seeking racial reconciliation and justice.