On a recent weekend I was
forced to remember how sensitive racial and ethnic feelings are within some
people. It was an interesting juxtaposition
of one black man and one white man on two consecutive days in two different
places, providing not so much a contrast but a similarity.
I will tell you in brief about the incidents
and then seek to draw some conclusions, and I do this as much for my benefit as well as for yours.
The African American brother is a former drug addict and ex-con,
who has struggled much since getting out of prison in being able to find and keep
a job. He was going church to church to
find help, and one church finally sent him to a PCA church (almost as a way
of dumping him on a church they resented) but it turned out to be a good
thing. The PCA pastor who pursued a
relationship with this brother really began to help him by taking him to a
potential employer, vouching for him, supplying transportation for him, and
befriending him. So this black man is
now a Christian and growing in his faith.
He had been to places seeking jobs, and felt
insulted with what he had been offered, or insulted in receiving no offer at
all. So, now there were a few of us
going out to dinner and we went to a restaurant where he had applied for a job
and been rejected, and as soon as we entered he began talking about it. During our time there the all white staff
interacted with us, one lady identifying herself as being from the south as she
tried to make some kind of connection with a few of us who were from Tennessee.
At one point this lady came out from the
kitchen and asked us if we had any “black eyed peas” on our table. The one African American in our group, the
man who had already felt disrespected by the people of this establishment
became angry. He let it be known to the
rest of us that he felt she had said this as a direct comment about himself,
and he because so bothered by it he had to go outside and have a cigarette.
Now, it is unknown as to exactly what she
meant. The best take on it was she wasn’t
speaking about the brother at all, and the worse take was she was indeed trying
to needle him. It was not obvious enough
for anyone else to feel it was a racial insult, but the brother did. When he came back in all of us at the table
were a little unsure about what to say, how to deal with it, or how to calm him
down before things got worse. He
certainly didn’t need any more legal trouble, yet his feelings were raw and
real.
What followed next was a pretty good time of
facing the possibility that this was the worst case, and asking the question as
to how we, and especially our brother of color, should deal with it. How do we deal with our enemies, how do we deal
with those who sin against us, how and when should we turn the other
cheek? We felt it would have been wrong
to be dismissive about his hurt or his feelings.
This brother has truly struggled and
suffered in trying to change from his past, and has done very well over the
last year in working hard to make a life for himself, and to grow in
Christ. Far too often white folks have explained
away racial bias and racial insult on the part of other white folks, working
way too hard to come up with some alternate explanation or justification for why a
white person said or did what they did.
Attempting to dismiss and deflect the legitimate concerns, feelings, and
anger of those disrespected adds further insult to injury.
Yet, some situations are ambiguous, they can
be all about perspective and interpretation.
So, our discussion centered on what any of us ought to do, as followers
of Jesus, when we are indeed attacked. It
was not about, “don’t be so sensitive,” or “stop playing the race card.” It was about the reality that the world is
truly fallen, full of trouble and danger, and unfortunately, full of obnoxious
people who don’t mean us well.
Thankfully he decompressed a bit, and I had one more experience of how
one stray word, phrase, look, or attitude can set off a fire storm, even if it
is unintended, or especially if it is intended.
So, the next day I spoke to a bunch of white
men. The crowd was completely
white. I was in fact thanking them for
their support for planting a church in a poor, racially mixed community. I was trying to inform them of how hard it
might be, of how long they might need to stay committed, and of how different
this church might be from their own.
Along the way I made remarks about our
usual practice in the PCA is to plant middle class churches and not do much
evangelism, but to take advantage of new suburban communities and transfer
growth, and to give those new plants just 3-5 years to make it. I also spoke about how, in a mixed community,
the worship might be culturally different, and God help me, I mentioned the
Regulative Principal of Worship (although in a positive sense but with
contextual appreciation, and attempting to be humorous, which sometimes gets me into trouble).
Afterwards, one of those white men, came
and got in my face. He was angry and
began to rebuke me for attacking the middle class, from whom most of the money
would come to help plant this church and I "shouldn’t bite the hand that fed
me." He was offended by my remarks about
worship, and he was offended that I assumed their churches didn’t care about
racial minorities as they had a few in their own church, and middle class
people needed Jesus too. He also thought
I was referring to white southern churches and shouldn’t think the church
(here, up North) had the same racial problems.
This was his perspective and interpretation of my remarks, with which in
all honesty I could not agree that what he thought I had said I had actually said.
What was similar about these two incidents
was the emotion of anger, one that had been directed at others, and one that was now directed at me. Another similarity was the
issue of interpretation and perspective. In both situations others didn’t take
it the way the person being angry took it. By way of contrast, one brother seemed to
listen and the other didn’t.
I
was a bit amused that the Devil was tempting me to not take my own advice (which was to not return insult for insult), because I do feel insulted when my words are
misconstrued. In God’s mercy I tried to humble myself, listen to his concerns, assure him I didn’t mean to
insult (which when telling the truth I sometimes do but by no means maliciously, at least this time)
and sought to make peace with him. I’m
not quite sure how it worked out in his heart, but at least he didn’t hit me.
It might be some people need to wear warning
labels over their heads: WARNING –this
person might explode or go off at any moment, and your best intentions might be
misinterpreted, and you should be careful to remember that some people have a
lot of racial hurt and others a lot of racial guilt and they don’t know what to
do with it. Others of us need an internal warning that reminds us that there is
racism, and some are guilty, and to be dismissive of it makes things worse.
END.
