Everyone seems to be weighing in on the George Floyd
situation. Everyone has an opinion or
perspective and many have rashly jumped into the social media sphere to give
their perspective on it. I don’t want to
give my perspective. I would rather stay
out of it. But as a pastor, people look
to me for guidance during tumultuous situations like this. And as a pastor, maybe I do bear a
responsibility to take a stand. A friend
of mine recently told me his son asked him, “Dad, why aren’t white pastors
saying anything about this?” He’s
right. We need to do so. We need to stand up against racism. We need to stand up against injustice. Biblically, we fight for the downtrodden and
the oppressed.
But I live in Birmingham, AL and not Minneapolis, MN. The only thing I know about the George Floyd
situation is what I have seen and read in both the professional and social
media spheres. And to be honest, I don’t
know enough about any of it to say I know the truth. What I saw with my eyes was heartbreaking on
many levels, because what I saw appeared to be the death of a man crying desperately
for help and no one was giving that help.
What I saw appeared to be a man who took an oath to protect and serve
snuff the life out of an unarmed, begging man while others who also swore an
oath to protect and serve did neither.
It was appalling to see.
But there are so many perspectives to consider here. Maybe, as a pastor who takes “Blessed are the
Peacemakers” seriously, it is my job to consider all of those perspectives
before providing guidance to the people who look to me for that guidance. I know I cannot consider them all, but I do
want to share with you four of them. You
don’t have to agree with them, but I’m going to share them anyway. I only ask that you bear with me through all
four of them. Then, after that, maybe
some guidance will find its way to where it needs to go.
First…
The Perspective of a Father of a Police Officer
As a father of a police officer, I look at what happened in
Minneapolis and I cringe. I cringe
because I know that there, but for the grace of God, goes my son. I cringe because I know that given the right
circumstances any person can make a mistake that will be construed as evil, hateful
and bigoted. I cringe because those
officers in Minneapolis have taken another step towards tarnishing the image of
a proud and noble service to which my son is a member. I cringe because so many people will now look
at my son and rather than see the great man for whom I am so proud, they will
see the despicable man I watched on that video.
Every day, my son puts on his uniform, goes out into the public, and
puts his life on the line to serve and protect his community. He does so knowing that there is an element
of the public that desires to put a bullet in his head just because he is an
officer of the law. He is under constant
stress and must remain ever vigilant to make sure he doesn’t cross the line
himself. And now, because of the action
of these police officers, his job will become even more difficult. I cringe
because I know a harsh truth: Because of
what happened in Minneapolis, the target on my son’s back just got a little bit
bigger.
Second...
The Perspective of a White Man
Right – who wants to know the perspective of a white man at
a time like this? We are the bad guys,
right? The privileged. The status quo. The MAN.
The establishment. But yet we are
still people, just like everyone else, and maybe the African American community
needs to understand our perspective as much as we need to understand
theirs. As a white man, there is so
much about this I just don’t understand.
I don’t understand how this can keep happening. I don’t understand from what I have seen on
video why it was necessary to pin this man down with a knee on his neck. I don’t understand how a human being who has
sworn to protect the citizens can just ignore this man’s cries that he couldn’t
breathe. I don’t understand how three
police officers can allow a fourth to put his knee on a man’s neck until he
dies. And if I were being truly honest,
I don’t understand how the African American community sees this as a RACIAL
injustice rather than simply a straight up injustice – a rogue cop committing a
murder. I know I will get lots of negative comments about that (and maybe that
is appropriate), but I’m just being real and telling you how most of us see
this.
But despite all that, I just don’t understand why rioting
and looting Target and destroying small businesses in one’s own community is an
appropriate response to a racial injustice.
And even if it could be (which it can’t be) justified in Minneapolis,
how can it possibly be justified in Atlanta or here in Birmingham? What’s more, I don’t understand how small
business owners get arrested for trying to provide for their family in one
place while violent protesters get a pass in another – and I’m not saying they
all got a pass, but many of them did.
Honestly, I just don’t understand any of this. But that just scratches the surface of what I
don’t understand, because the real kicker is that I, as a white man, could not
possibly know or understand anything at all about the perspective of the black man
or woman during a situation like this. The
truth is, I don’t think I or probably the vast majority of any other white
people ever could – and I think that is exactly the point. I have tried.
I have talked to several of my African American friends about what has happened
and about their perspective. And those conversations
have broken my heart. To hear the
anguish of my friends and to know as it relates to this topic, I will always be
an outsider and can never really comfort or console them – its crushing.
Third...
The Perspective of the Black Man/Woman
To say that I could possibly understand this perspective
would be arrogant and presumptive. But
at the very least, I could listen to what they said – which I did. And I have looked through the social media
storm – wading through the hate and vitriol in an attempt to try and find the
soul underneath. And the themes are
pretty common. So, let me share with you
what I heard from them, because their voice was unified.
First - frustration.
And, of course, with frustration comes an accompanying emotion – anger –
but there is a difference. As a white
man, I can be angry with them about the specifics of what happened, but I can’t
really understand the higher level of anger about the broader dynamics that gave
birth to the situation. As such, frustration
is unique to their experience, not mine.
Frustration that says, “Oh, no, not another one.” Frustration that says, “When will this ever
end?” Frustration that says, “You talk about
being pro-life for those in the womb, but what about the lives of our sons and
daughters out on the street?” Frustration
that says, “there is simply a long history of systematic injustice for people
of color.” Frustration that seems to have no apparent solution. This is a frustration that, from their
perspective, is rooted in institutional corruption. Not that they believe all police are corrupt,
but that the institution of law enforcement itself is corrupt because it will
not root out the bad apples. As one of
my friends put it, not all the apples in the barrel are bad. However, because
the bad ones are still there, the whole barrel is spoiled because when you
reach in to pull out an apple, you just don’t know whether you will get a good
one or a bad one. The whole barrel is
bad because no one stops this from happening again and again. As another friend said, the hoods are gone,
so now they are hidden in plain sight and we just don’t know from where or when
they will come. According to CNN (https://www.cnn.com/2020/05/28/us/minneapolis-officer-complaints-george-floyd/index.html),
the officer that killed George Floyd has 18 previous complaints against
him. Maybe there is something to that.
Second - fear. I
simply cannot comprehend this. My fear
is for the safety of my son, the police officer.
They fear my son the policer officer – obviously not my son
specifically, but my son is a part of that institution that they do fear. And since you don’t know what kind of apple
will come from the barrel, you fear the whole barrel. Fear that the wrong apple will pull over your
son or your daughter. Fear that your own
child’s immature anger and frustration will cause them to do something stupid
that will precipitate another situation (after all, our kids can be really
stupid sometimes). One of my friends
grew up in a more impoverished and challenged community. Growing up, she was taught (and experienced)
that if the cops were coming, they were coming to hurt you, not help you. Calling the cops was a non-starter. To say “the
last thing you would do is call the cops” was actually the way it was. You only called them after everything was over
– the last thing. Even then, those who
had been victimized would sometimes be further victimized by the police when
they arrived. I’m sorry, but I just can’t
even imagine.
Third – hope – or rather lack thereof. All of this leads to a lack of hope. All of them said the same thing. There is no hope of this ever going away. Well, that wasn’t exactly true, because they
are all believers and they all know that HOPE comes through faith in Jesus
Christ (I will get to that in the perspective of the pastor below). But what they universally recognized is that this
world is comprised mostly of non-believers and so for those in the black
community who do not have hope in Jesus Christ, there is simply no hope. No hope that racism will ever end. No hope that their own children can avoid being
targeted. No hope that the institution
will ever be reformed. This might be the
only time you will ever hear me quote Jesse Jackson, but since one of my
friends quoted him, I will honor that and quote him too – “Let hope live.” But where there is no hope, the frustration,
anger, and fear become overwhelming. And
THAT is why they are rioting and looting their own neighborhoods. As one of my friends said, it was Martin
Luther King who said “a riot is the language of the unheard.” Sure, maybe some of it is fear-baiting and
being instigated from the outside, but it is the lack of hope that keeps the
riot fuels burning.
And it is that sense of lack of hope that brings me to the
fourth perspective…
The Perspective of a Pastor
Fortunately for me (I think), all of my African American
friends that I talked to were born again believers and understand the hope that
comes in Jesus. So despite the fear,
anger, and frustration, they do have hope.
Let me just explain it this way…
I am currently preaching through the first 11 chapters of Genesis,
and if there is a truth that pervades those 11 chapters it is this – mankind is
broken and in need of help. Because of
the brokenness of this fallen world, the only hope we have is the hope that God
has promised to fix it all. I know that
seems a little hollow in the midst of all the riots and fear, but as believers,
our hope is in the return of Christ, the resurrection of the dead, and the
glorification of our bodies through the removal of the curse of sin. The world, however, cannot understand that
because their eyes are darkened to that truth.
The world has been deceived into thinking that mankind is essentially good
at the core and, thus is capable of reforming itself to be good. Nothing could be further from the truth. We dream
of a utopian society where the air is clean, everyone has a job, and violence
has been eliminated. Therefore, the
longer we go without making substantial progress towards that dream the more
hopeless everything feels. That
hopelessness results in a closing of the ranks around oneself and those closest
or most like you in order to protect yourselves from those who might do you
harm. The result is increased divisiveness
and polarization.
To those who truly understand human nature outside the redeeming
power of Christ, this is the natural progression of man. In fact, if you look back over history, the
human race has always been a violent, barbarous, divisive people. Sure, there have been moments of unity, but
they are few and far between – and short lived.
While that sounds nihilistic, that is why as believers our
hope is not in this life but the next one.
However, that does not mean our hope is only in the next life. What Jesus promises in full in the next life,
he gives us in part in this life. We are
not expected to be perfect to come to Jesus, but Jesus will change everything
about us from the inside out. He will
give us a new heart. He will change our
perspective, our desires, even our preconceptions. He gives us common ground to overcome our
differences and make one people out of two:
Ephesians 2:13-18
13 But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. 14 For he himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility 15 by abolishing the law of commandments expressed in ordinances, that he might create in himself one new man in place of the two, so making peace, 16 and might reconcile us both to God in one body through the cross, thereby killing the hostility. 17 And he came and preached peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near. 18 For through him we both have access in one Spirit to the Father.
Ephesians 5:1-6
I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, 2 with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, 3 eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. 4 There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call— 5 one Lord, one faith, one baptism, 6 one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.
1 Peter 2:9-10
9 But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. 10 Once you were not a people, but now you are God's people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.
Galatians 3:27-28
27 For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. 28 There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.
Colossians 3:11
11 Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all.
The point is… only through Christ can unity truly be found
because only Jesus can tear down our differences and give us something in
common worth binding over. I hear people
say all the time – we are all the same on the inside. We all bleed red. Maybe that’s true, but its simply not enough
to overcome the darkness within each of us.
Only Jesus can do that.
And here is the beauty of it – when we join in unity through
Christ, we can actually celebrate our differences. I will never say “I don’t see your color.” OF COURSE I SEE YOUR COLOR. You are BEAUTIFUL. God LOVES colors. RED. YELLOW. BLACK. BROWN. WHITE. Who knows,
maybe somewhere out in the cosmos there exists blues and greens as well. Who are we to say? I know – maybe that’s going too far, but the
point is this: Jesus loves ALL the colors,
which is why he made us different!
Listen carefully.
There is a message all my African American friends wanted me to give you, so here
it comes.
Stop trying to fix this – you can’t.
Stop trying to deflect this – Statements like (a) “All Lives
Matter” (b) “What about the riots” and (c) “What about black on black violence”
– they are all true and legitimate statements, but they all deflect the issue
at hand – another black (presumably innocent) black man was murdered by a white
police officer.
Rather – just stop and listen. If you are like me you
probably will never fully understand, but that doesn’t mean either of us should
ever stop trying. They just want to be heard.
The more I listen… the more brokenhearted I become, because
I realize there is NOTHING I can do to make it better. That just drives me to my knees, which is
probably where I should have started from to begin with.
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