Brave, Anyway

Tag: black lives matter

  • God is not dead, nor doth He sleep…

    I am overwhelmed.

    With the guilty verdicts for a murderer.

    With sadness for the family and friends of George Floyd.

    With happiness for the family and friends of George Floyd.

    With relief that the universe righted itself a bit today.

    With bitter sweetness.

    With these words of Longfellow, written during the Civil War as his son fought in the Union army.

    And in despair I bowed my head;
    There is no peace on earth, I said;
    For hate is strong,
    And mocks the song
    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
    Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
    God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
    The Wrong shall fail,
    The Right prevail,
    With peace on earth, good-will to men.

  • Ugly Truths

    I’m so tired of left and right finger-pointing. I’m tired of “but you guys” did this or that. Or statements that include the words “both sides.” I’m done with this week’s responses like “criticizing the Capitol participants is hypocritical of you.” Or “you didn’t condemn the violence at Black Lives Matters protests last summer.” Actually I did. Lots of people did. And the other truth is that those BLM events were largely peaceful. And you know what else? The two things are not equivalent and cannot be compared.

    BLM is protesting the actions of people and a society in which many, many people will not admit that some of their actions or the actions of others have been wrong and racist. We don’t promote, punish, show grace, forgive, pay, support, offer trust, or treat all people the same way. Everyone who is white who reads this is guilty of some sort of bias. Our job as good humans is to call ourselves and others out when those biases come up. But we largely don’t do that, either because we benefit from the bias, we don’t want to make waves, or because we want to protect people we love or work with. One of the main purposes of BLM is to simply get people to see the inequities in our society so that we can do something about them.

    What happened at the Capitol was some people showed up to protest and some people showed up for an insurrection, to disrupt the will of the majority of voters in this country and our election process. That event was the result of 3 things: (1) people falling for blatant and easily disproven lies, (2) people blindly following a lying leader, and (3) a group of people who truly and very honestly admit they are white supremacists, and proud of it, and want the world to be led by people who are not any color but white and not any faith but Christian (although they clearly haven’t read the whole Bible).

    Supporting BLM is not a Republican or Democrat thing. It is not an act of the left or of socialists or liberals. It’s an act of humanity. It’s a realization that some people and processes and things need to be fixed. And it should be a movement that all people can get behind, especially Christians.

    For God so loved the world.

    We were all knitted together in our mother’s wombs.

    There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for we are all one in Christ Jesus.

    Christ is in all.

    As he has loved us we are called to love one another.

    We shall love our neighbor as ourselves.

    God sees our hearts, not their skin-covering. It’s our job to see how we’re behaving as it relates to skin and our sin as it relates to skin, and then to do better.

    A powerful reminder, from the Facebook page of my very smart friend Michelle.

    My heart is heavy for my country. My heart is heavy for the family of the officer that was brutally dragged into a crowd at the Capitol and then beaten with clubs and flagpoles and crutches. My heart is heavy for the blood we all have our hands because we refuse to acknowledge, let alone try to fix, the corrupt and racist systems we have in place. My heart is heavy as I listen to the pain in the voices of people of color who are tired of a lifetime of judgment and explaining and unease. My heart is heavy that we elected this four years ago, and that it will take lifetimes to repair the damage of that choice.

    We can’t just undo policy with the next administration and think things will get better. Because people can’t just un-know the support of such evil. And the reality is that lots of folks separate their vote from the crazies who did that at the Capitol and the one day when things got out of hand. How do you get people to see that a vote empowered racism, especially when no one wants to admit that while they may believe they aren’t prejudiced or biased or a racist, they are?

    Ideas all of us have about how people not like us will behave and whether or not we can trust them and about intentions, beliefs, intelligence, faith, and on and on are deeply rooted in all of us. Maybe the first step in healing is just getting us all to admit that. To speak and realize the truth in these awful words: I am a sometimes prejudiced. I am sometimes biased. I have supported racist people and behaviors. They are very ugly truths, but anything less than those statements is a lie.

  • Embers of Hope

    And we still don’t know, just as I suspected. And yet just as I dreaded. We may not know the outcome of the presidential election for quite some time, but we do know this: many of our neighbors and friends that we have categorized as good people because they are nice to us have in them the ability to support racism and the mistreatment of women and children. I will never understand how someone can say they are a Christian and support someone who so blatantly is not.

    My heart is heavy.

    I did not expect a landslide and yet my heart had this hope I was afraid to ever voice. It hoped that there was goodness in more people than I believed. That their goodness would rise up and stand for their neighbor. That their faith would rise up and say this behavior is not right and not what Jesus would do.

    It still matters to me who wins. But my faith in the goodness of people took another huge hit in the last 24 hours.

    Election day 2020 in my RBG sweatshirt. Not pictured: oldest jeans I own and furry pink slippers.
  • What is Great?

    What is Great?

    I want America to be great. But sometimes that’s hard to even visualize when I look at where we are today.

    What does great even mean? That word has been co-opted by people wearing red hats and I’m not even sure that the majority of them can define the greatness we used to have that we supposedly need to get back to.

    Does great mean when we had prayer in schools? I think that’s what a lot of well-meaning Christians are holding on to. Prayer in schools is the panacea for drugs, pregnancy outside of marriage, respect for elders, vandalism, anger, and a thousand other things. But it’s not prayer in schools that’s going to fix those things. It’s prayer in our homes. In our cars at a stop light. In line at the market. And most importantly, in our hearts. “Prayer in schools” as the reason America has gone to hell in a hand basket is such a cop out – if you really want to point fingers, the end of prayer in schools began when we largely gave up on prayer in our homes and in our hearts.

    Does great mean before Roe v. Wade? Because abortion wasn’t invented in the twentieth century. It’s been around since the beginning of time, in the form of herbs and bloodletting and a dozen other precarious methods. And if Roe v. Wade is overturned it will still be around and practiced just as it is today, and just as it was before that Supreme Court decision – managed by individual states.

    Does great mean when women couldn’t own a home without a man’s signature? When men had a lot more “say” in everything? Or perhaps great refers to the time before Brown v. Board of Education or before the civil rights movement? Or does great mean before the immigration of people from non-white nations? Or maybe great means when the number of young people signing up to join the military was higher, when we were in the Cold War or just after September 11? I am a child of a veteran, I support our military, and tears still fill my eyes every time I see families waiting on piers for loved ones to come home. But sometimes I wonder if we are really a country that loves our military (wouldn’t we pay them more if we did?), or if we are more of a country of people that just loves to rally around a conflict and that live vicariously through the young people kicking some ass somewhere out there.

    I’ve yet to hear anyone who wants America to be great “again” define it in a way that makes sense to me, except for the people solely focused on money. And while I don’t agree on trickle down economics and tax cuts for wealthy people, at least they are real about their motives and I can respect that.

    I want America to be great. Not “again” though, because I think maybe it hasn’t ever been great for a lot of Americans. It’s been great for me, but I’m white and didn’t grow up in poverty or oppression. Part of being a good human, and part of being a good Christian for those of us that are people of faith, is not just caring about self. It’s also recognizing when other humans need help and providing that help if possible. And perhaps most importantly for today, it’s recognizing when other humans are discriminated against – by authority figures, by neighbors or colleagues, by laws and by systems – and standing against that. Setting WWJD aside, we should all be concerned about discrimination in any form against any American because history has taught us over and over again that if we allow discrimination against anyone, we risk being discriminated against as seasons change.

    As far as I can tell, “Make America Great Again” is about loving your neighbor if your neighbor looks and loves and prays like you, but sends cursory thoughts and prayers to everyone else. It’s a way to hide behind canned talking points because of motives surrounding faith and race and gender we don’t want to acknowledge, let alone speak about.

    Maybe this election cycle is more vicious and divisive because of who walks the halls of the White House and Capitol, maybe it’s because we’re actually at a tipping point morally, maybe it’s because we’ve all been quarantined and are just cranky and combative, or maybe it’s a combination of all of it. But I’m so tired of it all. I’m tired of “good” people – Christians especially – perpetuating the self-serving and idiotic belief that real Christians vote red and actively participating in or turning a blind eye to all the discrimination in this country. People are supposed to see Jesus through us, and we’re supporting and pointing them to politicians and programs and systems that do not reflect the love with which we are supposed to be filled.

    I’ve been reading Jesus for President by Shane Claiborne. I love how he characterizes the job of the disciples: “It wasn’t a call to take the sword or the throne and force the world to bow. Rather, they were to live the contagious love of God, to woo the nations into a new future.”

    I want America to be a place where all my neighbors – especially our nation’s veterans and children and elderly – have food and shelter and medicine. I recognize that’s a bit of a pipe dream given our current financials but is that so much to ask that we work toward? Why would those basics even be tied to one political party instead of core tenets of all political parties? I don’t care if your shirt has a donkey or an elephant on it, I have and will vote for you if you can show me you believe in the equality of all people, that you haven’t purposely mistreated people, and that you have empathy for people not like you.

    We have to stop being afraid of one another, of differences. We have to catch and stop when deeply rooted beliefs of favor or better rear their ugly heads in our hearts. We can love, and are called to love, our neighbor regardless of how different they are so that people see love through us, regardless of whether we are a Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Jew, or Hindu.

    If we allow ourselves to continue to buy into canned talking points and excuses, which we tell ourselves and others to make us feel better, we will never actually work to make anything great. We need to start accepting responsibility for all the beliefs and generalizations and fears that we secretly harbor about people who are not like us, for all that we’re voting for, for all that we’re voting against, and for all we’ve been allowing.

    Sydney Ellen Wade, played by Annette Benning in The American President, said exactly how I’ve been feeling for months and maybe years: “How do you have patience for people who claim they love America, but clearly can’t stand Americans?”

    Our vote is never just for a policy we’re passionate about, it’s for the whole person whose name we choose. No matter our choice, some things about that person will be good and some will be bad. But we can’t say we’re voting just to save unborn babies or for health care, and think that absolves us of responsibility as it relates to supporting the character and integrity of the person we chose.

  • It’s Not Me, It’s You

    It’s Not Me, It’s You

    What if the one to blame is actually me? Or us? What if what we think is the fault of others is actually the fault of ours?

    We and us are Christians. Me, and maybe you.

    I’ve spent a lot of my adult life retraining my brain to not first think of God as the Old Testament punishment guy. He is the Old Testament angry guy, but He is also the New Testament love and peace and turn-the-other-cheek guy – and perhaps most importantly the forgiveness guy.

    We are in a crazy time right now in the United States. COVID, racial injustice, unemployment, hurricanes, fires. It seems like our nation is under attack. And, indeed, it may be.

    How’d we get here, and who’s to blame? Is it the radical left? The radical right? The looters or the KKK? Most of us live somewhere in the middle, and yet it seems like all of our talk is only about the folks on the fringe.

    We can’t ever allow ourselves to forget that the folks on the fringe are not and will not ever be in control unless we have allowed them to be. That’s the power of the middle, especially when it’s the size that it is. And perhaps our main issue right now is that many of us don’t see each other as fellow citizens, or as comrades, in that powerful force that is the middle.

    I am so very tired of hearing Christians say we need to turn back or we need to change our ways or we need to focus on values – with the implication or even the clear and intentional statement that if we don’t, our country is doomed to fall or fail.

    Maybe that’s correct, actually. But here’s the thing: when Christians say that, they are always pointing the finger at others. The implication in the statement is that others who sin need to turn from their way. Others who don’t go to church or don’t go to a church like ours need to get with the actual God program. Others need to have politics like ours. Others who are gay need to be straight. Others who have abortions need to stop. Others who commit adultery need to not do that. Others who protest need to be thankful for what they do have and love their country more.

    What about us? The Christians. Perhaps we should turn that pointing finger back at ourselves. What if the reason this nation is struggling is because we – the Christians – have set a very bad example in this supposed Christian nation.

    What if the issue is our failure to show Christ to the world? That we haven’t been the hands and feet. That we have failed to love our neighbor as ourselves. That we have failed to lead with love. That we have failed to be the light. That we have failed to forgive and have empathy and show compassion. That we have failed to live by the ten commandments. That we have put other gods before Him. That we have made idols. That we have supported and elected leaders who live in ways very contrary to the tenets of Christianity. That we have failed to preach and live the actual gospel. That we have been disobedient. That we have failed to take a stand when we should. That we have failed to recognize and act when some of our fellow citizens, including our fellow Christians, have not been treated fairly.

    Tweet that moved me most this week:
    Stop using Dr. King as an example of a peaceful protest…you shot him, too.

    What if WE are the issue? What if what we’re doing or not doing is to blame? Because as Christians, we have a responsibility that’s clearly outlined in Luke 12:48. To whom much is given, much will be required. We are and will be held responsible for what we have been given.

    We’ve been acting like the sinners are always the others. The sinners are us, too.

    We’ve been acting like we are above reproach because we are believers, when actually we’re more accountable because we know better.

    We’ve been acting like everyone should believe and behave like we do because we’re better, when the reality is that we’re not behaving very well at all. And worse, everyone sees it.

    I believe Jesus, if He were walking on two human legs in America today, might be found walking amongst that big crowd in the middle, in the group made up of most of us. There are differences in how we believe and look and think and act, but we commonly seek a place of peace and safety and healing. And perhaps he’d be speaking words like these, appropriate two thousand years ago and still today: “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who hunger now, for you will be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.”

    There is surely Jesus in many Republicans and in many Democrats and in many Libertarians and in many Green supporters and in many people who don’t vote at all. Any suggestion that Jesus would side with a certain political party in America is simply a lie. Any suggestion that the fault for where we are lies with the others is a half-truth. The truth is always somewhere in the middle.

    Seeing God in America is one of my favorite devotionals right now. From a reflection on Maroon Bells, Colorado: “A murky, weed-choked pond won’t give back a reflection of even the mightiest mountains that tower nearby. But a clean, calm lake surface will shine out with the image of the majesty that surrounds it.”