Skip to main content

Modern Racism, part one: LEARN + LISTEN

  On June 1st I quit my (brief) break from social media specifically to talk about racism. I was hardly unique in wanting to speak up against this; your feeds were probably flooded with similar content...as well as people dismissing those concerns or even blatantly mocking those of us who voiced them.

  My primary reason for getting online to say anything at all was this: God's Word has something to say about modern racism, and Christians should care what that is. No, nowhere in the Bible does it directly say, "Here's what to do in light of racial protests in 2020"- of course not. However, the overall teachings of God's Word do not fall short of helping us rightly navigate any part of our lives; it is SUFFICIENT FOR LIFE AND GODLINESS; and this includes instructing our foundational views of God, ourselves, others, and how we interact with oppression. Such as racism and police brutality. And (in case these happen to be your main concerns instead) rioting and looting, as well.

  Sin is not new, and neither is racism. Rather than be astonished at the presence of sin in this world, or personally offended by the suggestion of it, or worse still, DEFENSIVE, insisting that sin is not at play in our society, let us reason together on the common ground of God's Word. Let His Bible- our only source of steady truth- be the foundation on which we build our lives and beliefs, even if it means dismantling long or dearly-held beliefs of our own along the way. Let His Gospel- the one so many keep insisting we stick to INSTEAD of talking about racism, not realizing it needs to be APPLIED- be the lens through which we view everything, a lens that is truly corrective, leading us right thinking and righteous living for the glory of God.

  So here is the first in a series of Instagram and Facebook posts I made over the spring and summer, shared in the format with this extra context for clarity. I hope it's helpful.


   Two years ago, in the spring, I was pregnant with Everly and nauseous nearly every waking moment. Still, there was a book I read that made my stomach turn. The chapter that held descriptions of lynchings was more horrific and degrading than anything I had imagined; it was shocking to read about the violence and inhumanity of those who murdered another human being, publicly, often in broad daylight, without shame.

  This year, in the spring, I had three sweet white children safely asleep in our apartment, when I first heard about George Floyd. I didn't know. The video was more horrific and degrading than I had feared it would be; and I sat on our kitchen floor, my whole body tense, and sobbed as I watched a man lynched.

  In public.

  In broad daylight.

  Without shame.


  This year, it is 2020. Much is wrong in the world. And once again we find ourselves with horrifying, stomach-turning evidence that shows us that the sin of racism is not dead. It is alive and well. It thrives and seeks out power with which to commit evil against others. 


  You may insist that it goes with saying, that everyone agrees George Floyd was murdered, that his death was unjust. I am glad so many of us can agree on this clear truth.


  But there's much more that must be said about this. It is not a one-time case of one man being killed in the streets by one police officer. And while the problem of racism is found in the hearts of sinful people who desperately need Jesus, and the most powerful weapon against racism is absolutely to pray fervently and clearly share the Gospel, there is more we can do.


  And should do.


  So white friends, I'm talking to you now. We, specifically, as white people- we have work to do here. If you are a follower of Jesus, the reasons for our participation in this work is perhaps even more pressing, and I'll explain my reasoning on that in another post.


  White friends, please learn. Listen. Seek to understand. I cringe when I remember my pridefully self-assured viewpoints during the Ferguson protests; I am ashamed when I remember how my own experience (or lack thereof) as a young white woman was the only information I thought I needed to "understand" or pass judgment on a situation. It never occurred to me that I was lacking information, it never occurred to me to humble myself and learn. Praise God, He chose to mercifully correct me!! I was terribly wrong, terribly unloving, and lacking in compassion, and God has softened my heart. 


   Learn. Read a book by a black author- I recommend the honorable John M. Perkins. Who do you follow on social media? Any black voices? Instead of arguing against viewpoints you disagree with on Facebook, ask, "Will you please tell me more about why you said _____?" or, "Can we talk sometime soon so you can explain more about your views on this?" 


  If you are a believer, then by far the most important learning you have to do is in the Word of God. You may be confident, as I have been at times, that your beliefs absolutely line up with what the Bible teaches. And like I have been, you may be wrong.

  You'll find out through a lot of reading and praying. Sink in. Read the Old Testament. Read it's prophets and it's laws and spend time soaking your mind in the character of God. Read the New Testament. Read the words of the unimpressive man Who was (and is) God Himself in human form- Jesus.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Conspiracy Theories

  I personally am not someone who has any great number of conspiracy theories. Yes, when a sudden Swine Flu epidemic broke out shortly after Obama was elected as president, I did wonder if the man-made disease had been released on-command.   But come on, when it comes to Obama, politics, and the American government, I am most certainly not the only suspicious person around.   There are lots of conspiracy theories, like the ones you learn about when you watch National Treasure. But the kind of conspiracy theories I’m prone to come up with are slightly less political and exciting.   I tend to watch my sister take a long drink from MY glass of water, and then say suddenly, “I see what you’re doing! You’re passive-aggressively trying to kill me by drinking my water, and slowly removing everything I need to live!” This is the sort of comment that leads to my sister’s laughter and to jokes about being passive-aggressive between a ninth grade boy and I, as he is constantly asking me for water...

Please Don't Settle

  I wrote a song a few years ago called “Don’t Settle.” I wrote it for a friend of mine who had previously been planning on committing suicide. It is one of the only songs I’ve written that I felt came with a tune- the words came easily, and a tune came with them. It is one of the few songs I’ve written that I know God gave to me; He sang it to me softly and I simply wrote it down and remembered it.   Lately I have thought of perhaps revising the verses a little, but the chorus I will not change. It was the first piece that God gave me, and it is perfect. It goes like this:   “Don’t settle, please don’t give up Fight for only the true and beautiful Fight for only the true and beautiful Don’t settle, please don’t give up Fight for only the truth, I’ll fight for you I’ll fight for you.”   It was the cry of my heart for my friend, and I believe it is the cry of God’s heart for His children. I know that it is what I want Him to sing to me now, as I am reminding myself not to settle, not to...

More about what a mess I am...

   This past Friday I went to my parents house. I sat on the couch beside my youngest brother, my mother sitting on the floor in front of me as my kids played around her, and we watched old home videos of when I was two and half years old and my sister Anna was ten months old. I was wild and loud- standing on furniture, dancing and stomping and singing, running around and swinging toys that inevitably hit Anna in the face. The living room was littered with toys, and a basket or two of laundry sat in the corner.   It was like a photograph of my living room right now. And the kids, well, my children live from the same script- the same wild, the same loud, the same accidental injuries.   I looked at my mama and said, "No wonder I call you when it seems like no one really gets it. You get it. You've lived it."   But I think that, really, other people do understand my messy living room and how achingly exhausted I am by ten in the morning some days. But the ...