What are Reparations? An Analogy

A number of political candidates have been talking openly about the issue of reparations to the African-American community for slavery, Jim Crow laws, redlining and other discriminatory practices. A controversial issue, no doubt.

Many folks do not understand what reparations are and what they are for. Let me offer this analogy to demonstrate why slavery still matters to this day:

A Wrongful Conviction: An Analogy

A person in slavery is like a person wrongfully convicted and sent to prison with a life sentence. 

The Civil War was the trial that finally got him released from jail after 30 years incarcerated. Hallelujah! 

But no one did any subsequent legal work to finish the job. The man is "free" but still lacks voting rights. The prison record still prevents him from getting loans or meaningful work. His record was never completely exonerated or expunged. He is in a messy in-between state--out of jail but still a second-class citizen with no resources to pursue legal action to get his record fully cleaned.

Getting out of jail was only the first step--a huge one, yes, but only the first step toward making the situation right. How about all the therapy it will take to recover from those years of psychological trauma and forced separation from his loved ones? Perhaps his children grew up without a father, so this trauma is multi-generational. 

How about some kind of integration program to get into schools and jobs and to at least attempt to make up for lost time? That's 30 years of lost wages, lost promotions, lost raises, lost work experience and lost money saved for retirement. Instead, this person rotted in jail for 30 years and is now starting off in entry level work, with a stigma and a spotty record he shouldn't have, all doing this with years of trauma to somehow process without adequate community support.

This quote from author Marianne Williamson sums it up nicely:  "If you kick somebody to the ground, you owe it to them to do more than stop kicking," she told New York radio station Hot 97 earlier this month. "You owe it to them to say, 'Here: Let me help you get back up.'

Reparations for slavery and other discriminatory practices are like the work that happens after getting released from jail.

An Analysis

It's outrageous that we have stalled on this so long. We as a nation have clearly wronged a people severely and deliberately. When the Civil War ended, all debts were not paid by a long shot. Dismantling slavery should have been followed by rebuilding, but we all know how flawed "Reconstruction" was. 

We should have gathered as a people, pooled all our resources and did everything possible to redistribute the wealth that African-Americans had generated and help them get a leg up and get the skills to integrate in society--skills they were long denied. Instead, we denied them access to education, access to loans and access to the voting booth. To top it off, white society blamed African-Americans for "personal moral failure" for high rates of poverty. Unbelievable. 

The wealth of the plantation came through the stolen labor of slaves. That wealth should have been divided up. Instead, what they got was second-class citizen status through Jim Crow laws and unofficial second-class citizens status through racism and white privilege which continues to this day. That is NOT how you treat a group of people who we admit we have wronged. Then they get blame on top of that.

Just trying to heal from 250 years of continual forced family separation is an almost unbelievable trauma. Then add on to that denial of voting rights, prohibition from the educational system, from jobs, from getting loans, from getting the GI BIll, the list goes on and on. Instead, what I hear from white folks on my own page is "they should get over it and grow up." Wow. Try unpacking that sentence. Talking down to folks like they are children.

Imagine if I stole your money, invested it and made more from it, and then I tell you to "get over it." Give me my money back--AND the interest you've built off it--and THEN we'll talk about "getting over it" right? Obviously, reparations are much more than giving a check but you get the idea.

The morality is simple:  When you sin, you first confess it. Then you beg forgiveness both of God and of those you have wronged. Then you worked to correct the wrongs that have been done, to the extent that is possible. And then you work to make sure it never happens again.  And then as a final penance, you "pay it forward" sowing seeds of justice and charity to others going forward. This is basic, common sense. It's what adults should be doing.

Imagine a thief breaks into your home. He steals a thousand dollars. When you find him, he tells you: "Just get over it! Why can't you learn to forgive? Why are you playing the victim? Quit discriminating, leave me alone and I'll leave you alone!"  Well... give me my money back and then we can talk about "getting over it"!

Some folks say that any race-based classification is a perpetuation of racism itself. So giving advantages to African-Americans today would be to further racism, in their opinion. They say "you can't use discrimination to combat discrimination." The problem with this logic is that is favors those who already have all the power and wealth leveraged in their favor. These two quotes below dismantle that rationale quite nicely:

If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor. If an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse and you say that you are neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality.

― Desmond Tutu

“We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented. Sometimes we must interfere. When human lives are endangered, when human dignity is in jeopardy, national borders and sensitivities become irrelevant. Wherever men and women are persecuted because of their race, religion, or political views, that place must - at that moment - become the center of the universe.”

― Elie Wiesel, The Night Trilogy: Night, Dawn, the Accident

Racism is Cowardice and Self-Hatred

Picture from linked article.

Racism, cowardice and self-hatred go hand in hand.

Case in point: Check out the nighttime firebombing of the Highlander social justice center in East Tennessee. In predictable form, racists act at night when no one is looking. Historically, they also put hoods on to hide their faces. Nowadays, they troll online using fake accounts from their parents' basement.

People only hide their faces and sneak in the shadows when they are not proud of themselves and what they are doing.

Oh, I'm sure you could point to an incident here or there where aggressive racists showed their faces. But I bet they only did that if they thought the odds were 10-to-1 in their favor. But even still, a few incidents here or there doesn't change the overall trend of how racists like to hide.

To be clear, racists will certainly be passive aggressive in broad daylight. Usually that's also when they are denying that they are racists while doing something very racist. They display racist symbols and mannerisms while playing dumb about it. We've all heard it: "It's about heritage not race." Sure it is. Well, that may indeed be true for some but we know it's definitely not true for many. Their denial is part of the psychological terrorism they are employing.

If you have something to say, then say it outright. Show your face. That's what grown adults do. But racists can't do that because a person has to have self-confidence to do that.

Racism is Self-Hatred

We talk so much of the damage that racism inflicts on others, but we often neglect to mention another tragedy: How sad it must be to be a racist. I mean seriously. These people have nothing better to do than sit around and hate another group? All that means is that they don't believe there is anything interesting going on in their own lives so they have to focus on what someone else is doing. If racists would just start doing something meaningful with their own lives--maybe creating new art, building up a successful business or achieving some goal--they won't have time or energy to worry about what someone else is doing. What they were doing would simply be too wonderful to waste by taking time away to hate someone else who is not harming them.

I was bullied a lot when I was younger. One day it occurred to me:  I must be absolutely amazing because these people have nothing else to do than obsesses over every little thing I did or said. Yes, it was painful and yes, it was damaging. I hate to give them the satisfaction of knowing that, but I'm also not going to give them the satisfaction of living in secrecy about it, either. But in a very unexpected way, it actually boosted my self-esteem and confidence in so many ways! It made me so much stronger than ever before.

You pretty much have to be a coward to be a racist (or any other kind of bully). To all the racists out there, admit it: Deep down, you are afraid that another race is better than you. You are afraid that if you didn't constantly work against them behind their backs that they would out-compete you. Racists have poor confidence in their own abilities. They are desperately afraid of fair competition. Why else would they spend so much time and energy obsessing about another group? Why else would they work so desperately to keep another group down if they didn't fear what that group would do on equal footing? Their actions reveal all this about them.

Do something of your own to feel proud of for a change and then you won't worry about what some other group is doing.

And that's all very sad. Racism is nothing but jealousy and envy hidden very well. And jealousy is just self-hatred--you want what someone else has because deep down you hate who you are and what you have. Racists hate themselves which is why they find it so easy to hate others.  And that's so very sad because every person has so much to offer and so much that is good about them. I have to believe that about everyone.

Love yourself and you will have nothing but love for others.

Yes, racism can and does hurt others. But it is also a sign of how deeply wounded the racists themselves are. How little they must think of themselves.

And that's so very, very sad.

These cowardly racists could learn a lot from the people they try to hate: You'll never find a display of courage more powerful than those of the Civil Rights movement. The racists hid behind dogs, covered their heads with pillowcases and used the bully power of an unfair legal system to add muscle to themselves. Unarmed Civil Rights marchers stood up to all that and won. These firebombers today and yesterday have a sad legacy. Nothing they do compares to the bravery of the people in the Civil Rights Movement. But don't be mad at the Civil Rights movement for this. Instead, be mad at yourselves that you don't think better of yourselves.

I'm angry at racists but I don't really want to shame them here. I just think the whole situation is so sad. I wish racists loved themselves and believed in themselves more. Hating others is never going to bring anyone fulfillment. You are never going to hate your way to happiness. Whatever pain or anger in their own lives is something that need healing, and hating on others is never going to fix that. It will just create more pain but most of all it just creates a loss of potential--for the victims but also for the racists themselves. Individual black people have been seriously harmed, but as a group African Americans have only risen above all of this to be even stronger than ever before. The same cannot be said of racists.

If I love myself, I love you. If I love you, I love myself.

-- Jalaluddin Rumi

Negative Racial Stereotypes in Popular Kids Movies

Top: L-R Princess Poppy, Cooper, King Peppy from Trolls.
Bottom: Richard the rapping wildebeest from Sing.

I've been immersed in watching animated films these days along with my toddler. Two of the movies in our daily rotation include Trolls and Sing (both 2016).

Both are very well done. Both went to great lengths to offer something for parents as well as for children. And both, I believe, made efforts to avoid negative racial and cultural stereotypes. Yet, in both movies, some unfortunate mistakes fell through the cracks.

Neither movie features humans as we know them. The cast of Trolls includes fantastical creatures and Sing showcases anthropomorphized animals. Yet in both the characters are obviously drawn from people in the "real world." Some are recognizably New Yorkers or Southerners. Others are Japanese, African-American or representing other ethnic or racial groups. Stereotypes abound--some good and some not so much.

After watching these movies dozens of times, something struck me:

In Sing and Trolls, the most recognizably young African-American male character in each movie has trouble controlling his bowels in public.

In Trolls, Cooper poops out a stack of cupcakes out of sheer terror just moments before he is captured by the Bergen chef (see picture above). In Sing, the wildebeest Richard, who raps and has a full Afro hairstyle, passes so much gas uncontrollably it disqualifies him from the singing competition. He literally propels himself out of the theater with farts.

How in the world did the creators of these movies miss this? They might as well have put those characters in blackface. Not being able to control one's bowels in public may be an excusable medical event, but historically and culturally it has deep connotations of humiliation. It marks a person as more animalistic, bumbling, uncouth, uncultured, unclean (both literally and socially) and just flat out disgusting. It establishes a person as deserving of being laughed at and, by consequence, less deserving of full rights and inclusion in society.

I actually don't judge the movie creators too harshly for this. There are some insidious racial stereotypes that are so buried in the cultural consciousness it can take a lifetime to recognize and eradicate them. Case in point: Both Cooper and Richard are shown to be friendly, caring and compassionate. Richard has an obvious gentle side. They are not "dangerous thugs" but decent characters with big hearts. These are good things. This speaks to how difficult it is to eradicate negative racial stereotypes, because while going out of their way to show these characters in a positive light, some other sneaky negative stereotypes crept in, perhaps unknowingly.

Fighting unconscious implicit bias is often like a frustrating game of whack-a-mole--you fight it in one place and it pops up somewhere else. It is still worth fighting it.

I'm actually more upset with how Sing depicts the Japanese band of singers. Those negative caricatures were more obvious and should have been caught. They are as bad as anything out of a 1950s cartoon. However, in most other ways, Sing does a good job. The African-American family of elephants is depicted good-naturedly in all their love and, yes, even their dysfunctions. Most importantly, they are shown as fully "human" and multi-dimensional--you know, just like real people. The gorillas--who happen to be a band of gangsters--speak with an obvious English accent. I've always assumed this was done to make it abundantly clear that there were not intended to represent African Americans (although it should be noted that you can have an English accent AND be of African descent).

You might say:  "What's the big deal?" Why can't we laugh at ourselves and each other? You might say the politically-correct world is taking all the fun out of life, leading us chasing wild geese in word choices while "real" social problems are left unaddressed.

But answer me this:  Can you for even one second imagine that the white, young princess girl would have difficulty controlling her bowels in public? After all, Princess Poppy was standing right next to Cooper when he defecated out of fear. Why couldn't it have been her character who did that? It's simply inconceivable. It just would not happen. We would never want to see her lowered like that, would we? It would just feel wrong, wouldn't it? Why are all the kings in Trolls very obviously white guys?

The problem is that these word choices and public images come from--and dig very deeply into--our unconsciousness. They impact the way we perceive and treat each other. When we assume that African-American males are not to be taken seriously, that they are not worthy of the same dignity as others, then that has real-world consequences. It impacts their experiences in school, in the hiring process, and in how they are treated by the police and criminal justice system. When a group of people is understood to be second-class citizens, they get second-class treatment. One follows the other. Their lives don't matter. They are just comical, sideshow characters--good for a laugh, perhaps, but not ever for power-sharing and true inclusion in society. Cooper is the funny, somewhat dim witted, buck toothed (yes.) guy on the side, but he's not the king. Richard is not the manager of the bank or the theater. It's not an exaggeration to say these images and word choices translate into dead bodies in the streets, unfair legislation and systemic, multi-generational poverty. That's why this matters. That's why it's not nitpicky but of central importance.

Continuing Thoughts

There is no scientific basis to suggest that African-American males have more trouble controlling their bowels in public than anyone else. So why are they being depicted that way in otherwise fine movies such as Trolls and Sing? If it's just innocent humor, why is the mockery not more evenly spread out?

The strong African-American male is a threat to the white consciousness. He therefore must be lowered, he must be taken down, he must be humbled somehow. Why? What would happen if African-American males were seen as expressing their full power and dignity in all circumstances? Is the white world so fragile that it can't handle that?

I had a friend like that when I was younger. He was so insecure and judgmental that I instinctively knew that the only way I could "fit in" was that I had to act dopey, silly and laughable. I had to constantly employ self-deprecating humor. He just couldn't relate to me eye-to-eye as an equal, so I had to act "lower." As my confidence developed, the relationship strained and eventually ended as he just couldn't hang in there on those terms (thankfully, I've also worked through enough of my personal demons at this point in my life not to do that anyone to secure a friendship).

So how far do we want to take these comparisons? You could argue the very nasty Bergens in Trolls are almost entirely based on white people. You could, in contrast, also ask why the African-American-seeming Cooper is a four-legged animal who hangs out with the two-legged, more hominid--and more seemingly white--trolls? Where do we stop with the comparisons?

As final thought, I recommend folks check out the animated movie Shrek. It attempted to turn many of these common stereotypes on their heads. Did it work? Is it worth doing something like that again and again until stereotypes are overturned for good? Or is that just fighting fire with fire?

The UMC and the Challenge of Unity

The branches and leaves in this tree are not unlike the many
branches and denominations of Christianity.

The recent struggles in the United Methodist Church (UMC) over LGBT inclusion raise perennial questions for me:

What does it mean to be “church”? Is there a certain level of agreement that is necessary? Or is fellowship, work and worship with people of diverse viewpoints part and parcel of the necessary work that needs to be done? 

But even so, aren't there hard limits? Deal breakers?

I come from the Roman Catholic (RCC) tradition. If you expect this 2,000 year old, global behemoth of as many as 1 billion people to perfectly represent your own private, individual viewpoints as of February, 2019, you are in for some pretty quick disappointment. I have not yet met a single person who is perfectly on board with every teaching. Nevertheless, you just can't put your life on hold just because the RCC doesn't change. That doesn't stop conservatives, liberals and everyone in between from complaining, however.

The fact that this body changes very slowly is one of its strengths--and some would argue one of its weaknesses. The RCC can quickly remind you that it’s not all about you. This can be a good thing--and a bad thing. You have a choice as a Catholic: You can give up because the church is not the way you want it to be (i.e. made in your image) or you can roll up your sleeves and get to work right here and right now. Bloom where you're planted. It will never be perfectly as you want it, and perhaps it shouldn't be. It forces you out of your self-contained universe. Even if it were to eventually change to suit you better, there is a lot of life to be lived and a lot of work to be done right now.

I'm reminded of that song lyric: "Don't surround yourself with yourself." Good advice.

Many Catholics sit with it this way: They have small body of relatively like-minded people they associate with—perhaps their school, missionary society, charitable works organization or friends and fellowship group they lean on for mutual support. But they also belong to this wider body of the whole Catholic Church. They keep at the very least their toe dipped into the larger pool while also finding that smaller group of people with whom they see eye-to-eye on most things. You end up with the peace activist sitting next to the military general at Mass on Sundays, and on Mondays they go to work against each other again. 

I'm reminded of James Joyce who said of Catholics: "Here comes everybody." Is that a strength or a weakness? Yes.

When you come to a fork in the road such as what the UMC is experiencing right now over LGBT inclusion, it is easy to justify a divorce. The pain is real. The differences in opinion are real, too. But when I look back over the 500 years of Protestantism, I wonder if all that splitting and re-splitting has gotten them anywhere. Some estimate that there are as many as 50,000 denominations! Perhaps divorce is not always the answer. Were all these breaks necessary as people simply ran out of options to stay together? Or were they the result of people who got lazy and didn’t want to be uncomfortable and learn how to sit with real differences? And where are they going with all this fracturing--is there an end game to it all? Are any of these new denominations any better than the previous ones, or are they just re-living the same ole sins and human tendencies in a new form?

Will it just keep fracturing until every single individual is his or her own "denomination"? I say this quite seriously that it may not be a bad thing to simply play out that logic to its inevitable conclusion in this way. After all, each individual already has his or her own theology regardless of which denomination they belong to. Maybe it will help Christianity arrive at a post-denominational point. We'll still need community but maybe not in the way we've been doing it, and this experiment has to play itself out this way to help us get there.

This is not to judge or begrudge anyone who feels their experiences in a particular church community are simply too painful, or the issues too serious, for them to remain. I can't weigh in on someone else's decision. People have experienced very deep wounds and abuses of all kinds, and I do not intend to make light of those in the least. "Unity" has often been used as a justification for sweeping all sorts of misbehavior and injustices under the rug while blaming the very people who are so hurt they feel forced to break away.

After all, what good is unity if you end up supporting a morality that you simply cannot condone? But on the flip side, community is fundamental to a Christian. Learning how to congregate is part of discipleship. Among may other things, it forces us to come to terms with our triggers and internal challenges, to ultimately see a world bigger than ourselves.

I know all too well the struggle and the tough choices that struggle demands. For long periods in my life, I have toggled on the razor's edge between staying or leaving my church. I debated this with myself on an almost daily basis. I was even convinced for a while that living with that tension must actually be our call rather than resolving it either way. All this to say: I get it. 

Community is unquestionably hard. Finding that gospel ideal of perfect unity in perfect diversity is an ever-elusive challenge. I've only experienced it myself in fleeting moments throughout my life. Some communities lean on the side of denying the individual for the sake of conformity. Others celebrate the individual at the expense of the group.

The fracturing of Protestantism has created smaller denominations with oftentimes like-minded people who could perhaps go further in their particular mission than they ever could if they remained within the larger parent group. Some found a safe haven after leaving a painful situation. But there's a cost that comes with that fracturing--the cost of unity and the cost of not practicing how to sit with real diversity (again, not to minimize the real efforts that people have gone through in order to prevent divisions).

People in the UMC are in pain and some are talking schism. It's painful to talk schism. Not to sound glib, but what's one more split in a long history of splintering?  After all, the UMC exists as a result of schism in the first place. Another way to look at it:  If a split in the UMC seems painful today, perhaps that can remind us how painful previous splits must have been (and perhaps still are) and awake in us a desire to mend those fences from previous splits.

Does it matter that there are others out there who call themselves "Christian" who have nothing to do with your particular group? As we ponder a potentially very painful split in the UMC, perhaps it can help us think about all the splits that have occurred in Christianity and ignite in us a desire to heal those wounds, too.

First Comes Gratitude, Second Comes Discipleship

There is something fundamentally antithetical between a God who loves and accepts us all unconditionally and a church culture that pushes us to belong, behave, conform and suppress ourselves.

"For God so loved the world...."
— John 3:16

Those words from the Gospel of John echo throughout Christian history. They are repeated like a mantra by many. They are some of the most famous words from Scripture.

There is good reason for this: All of life is a gift. All that God has done is a gift. Everything God does has been done out of love. God loved the world into existence and continues to love it through its redemption and sanctification.

Preachers love to preach John 3:16. It would be wonderful if more were preaching this message with—and this is the most important part—no strings attached.  Because—by definition—that's what a gift is.

By definition.

Our proper response to a gift, then, is gratitude.

Gratitude is, perhaps, the only appropriate first response.

We tend to forget that. Let's face it, traditional Christianity (any of the main denominations) does not have a reputation for being accepting of God's gifts at face value. If you mention Christianity to anyone on the street, probably one of the first items to pop into their mind would be the "rules" and the "control."

Just to give an example, I saw a pastor the other day in the grocery story. He's a nice guy and my family has been to his church. But I avoided him when I saw him. Why?  Because I wasn't in the mood for dealing with the "push." You know what I'm talking about:  Little hints and jabs about how he hasn't seen us at his church, the implication that we should be there and other pressures to join his congregation and augment his numbers.

The thoughts that comes to my mind are: "Can't you just accept me as I am right now—without trying to push for a change in my behavior before you even know me? I'm good as I am—get to know me right here, right now, as I am. For God so loves me this way . . . why can't you?"

He's a nice guy, but I recognize the mini-colonizer in his actions. I realize he wants company in his church, and I realize he wants money in his collection plates. But the paradox is he might get more of both if he quit trying so hard. There's nothing wrong with an open invitation . . . if it is truly open. But when I start feeling peddled like a hot piece in a meat market, I instantly recognize the stink and get away. I think:  You don't want me in my full dignity.

What I really hear many preachers saying is:  Be different. Do more of this. Do less of that. Give more. Bend more. Think this way. Act that way. Come to my church. Give to the collection. Be a facsimile of me. Alter your life according to my specifications.

I get it:  There are obligations, responsibilities and commitments as part of Christian discipleship. And it is the duty of a preacher to challenge us. But Christianity has a long track record of frontloading those factors and downplaying something much more foundational: Gratitude. Acceptance. Love. That is, after all, the Good News!

God so loves the world. We are okay. I'm okay. You're okay. Let's start there.

Just as we are.

We can let that just be.

And then perhaps we may be so overcome with joy at this gift that we want to gift it to others—to pay it forward.

That's actually why the collection plate has been traditionally passed on Sunday since the time of the early Church. Sunday is the day of rest and gratitude. Once we have had space to reflect on all that we have been given, it is only natural to want to give to others. My cup runneth over (Psalm 23). 

All Christian charity and all Christian discipleship comes out of that gratitude: Because I have been so loved, therefore I want to love others out of nothing but sheer gratitude. We as church should never attempt to force that—we have to simply trust in that. Trust that loving and accepting others is primarily we need to do and we need not worry on how much of that comes back to us in the collection plate. That's God's business, not ours to try to control.

And then once we get that, once we are more solidly rooted in that gratitude, then and only then does it make sense to talk about obligations and responsibilities. Then, and only then, should we talk about the yoke of discipleship. Otherwise, it's just peddling a kind of works-based righteousness and a denial of the goodness of God's gifts. After all, if we want people to come to our churches, we should first give them a reason for coming before demanding membership dues.

This is why, I believe, Jesus told us the greatest commandment is to love one another—up to and including even our enemies, everyone in our community and everyone in between. Love is the most primary act we should be making and our primary stance in every situation. It is the greatest commandment for a reason. Once we begin there, then and only then can we talk about the messiness of life, the hard decisions and perhaps even some tough love exclusions. But we should only do that if we are loving first and foremost, as Jesus instructed. We are to love first and foremost and then pepper in the rules and obligations as they fit—not the other way around.

We are to love first and foremost. Because, after all, that's what God does.

There are some, of course, who have discovered the love of God the other way: Through the yoke of discipleship they have found the love that was guiding them from behind. I respect that it may work that way for some, but it's a very clumsy method that perhaps alienates many more than it converts. The reason, I believe, is because it's hard to teach love and acceptance through disciplines that fundamentally do not love or respect the natural created dignity of each person. In that scenario, people discover God in spite of religion, not because of it.

From Birmingham Jail, MLK's Challenge to Us Today

Martin Luther King Jr's Letter from Birmingham Jail is often touted as a defining milestone in the Civil Rights Movement. Indeed, it is a stunning portrait of the human spirit. MLK is literally behind bars, yet writing with a spirit of freedom and vision unknown to many of his contemporaries. He wrote with the kind of boldness reminiscent of the Apostle Paul, who also knew something about writing of freedom while behind prison walls.

I had the great privilege to visit the Birmingham Civil Rights Institute in Birmingham, AL, just a couple weeks ago. I urge anyone who can go to take the time to visit. Contained inside are the actual prison doors of the cell in which MLK wrote his infamous letter. There also on the wall hangs the reason for the letter--if you are unfamiliar with its history, you might think the impetus for the letter was probably some rantings by the KKK or other segregationists. Instead, it was a letter from lukewarm, moderate white church leaders, most of whom were probably somewhat sympathetic to the issues of the Civil Rights Movement. Those church leaders basically told MLK to calm down and relax. He was pushing too hard as an "outsider," they said. The methods of nonviolent civil disobedience were too disruptive. They argued he should work for change more slowly and accept what isn't perfect in the meantime.

You can find a copy and transcript of the letter here. It stings to read it. And for good reason. I cringed when I saw a Catholic bishop (my own denomination) as one of the signers. There were Protestant, Catholic and Jewish signers.

It took me a while to find this letter online. Either my internet research skills are lacking or else there aren't many traces of it to be found. The latter is understandable. Who wants to be reminded of being on the wrong side of history?  It was MLK who penned the masterpiece--that's something to celebrate. He was the hero who faced incredible adversity to lead one of the most stunning movements for change the world had ever seen. Who wants to be known as the group that tried to discourage one of history's greatest leaders during a time when he needed support the most?  It's not exactly something to put on one's resume.

But before we are quick to judge the lackluster faith and disappointing hesitation of the white church leaders, we must realize this is a perennial issue. This was not a unique circumstance that was only seen in 1963 Birmingham. Today, right now, there are people in my community, my church, my family and my world who tell us to slow down in our pursuit of justice and peace. They tell us not to make too many waves. They tell us that true progress happens gradually. And sometimes they are right. But the problem is that if we waited for these voices to give us the green light and tell us "now is the time for action," odds are that time would never come. In many circumstances, on many issues, there is never a moment when change is easy and comfortable. Sometimes being told to slow down is nothing but an excuse to stall indefinitely, and I sincerely wonder if those folks who say it really want change at all.

The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.

 -Martin Luther King Jr.

The following are four areas of great moral importance in the U.S. demanding immediate action where we are often told the same things those eight pastors told MLK:  Slow down. Work for gradual change. Accept it if solutions are not "perfect." There are other issues in addition to these.

Racism. Despite the gains of the Civil Rights Movement, racism is a clear and ever-present reality in the U.S. to this day. It results in black bodies lying dead in the streets, in mass incarceration, in denial of opportunities and systemic poverty. We need change and we need it now! Yet, people tell Black Lives Matter and other activists the same things that these moderates told MLK--slow down, your methods are too disruptive.

Healthcare. The U.S. spends twice as much as any other nation per person on healthcare but ends up ranking only #37 in the world by the World Health Organization. Millions have no access to the system and many thousands have lost their lives or have gone into bankruptcy trying to pay medical bills.

The math is simple: We pay more. We get less. No corporation could survive for long with that business plan, yet this is how we as a people fund our healthcare. It seems hard to believe that anyone could deny these obvious facts, but millions of dollars of insurance money and hard lobbying have done what they were intended to do: They have created fear and warped perceptions. They have convinced many of us that "it can't be done," even though nearly every other developed nation on earth has figured out how to do better for less.

So where is the leadership to change this? All we hear is "Now is not the time." "Don't push too hard." "Change happens gradually." You might think we hear that from conservatives who are against universal healthcare, but those statements are often coming from left-leaning political leadership. A lot of people give those Democrats the benefit of the doubt and assume they are doing all that can be done for healthcare at the moment. However, given the incredible expenditures on healthcare lobbying, you have to start wondering if these moderates have any real intention of changing our healthcare system at all. You have to speak your vision and name your goals out loud before you can achieve them.

Climate Change. Scientists are clear that there is a very 12 year window for the human race to avoid catastrophic climate change. Yet, even the most aggressive proposals to reduce carbon emissions seem to fall far short. Case in point: Germany recently announced it would phase out all coal powered plants in 20 years. We may not need completely eliminate all fossil fuel consumption to meet our climate goals, but it is disheartening when we are told "it can't be done any quick." Why not?  Of course it can. Other places are moving quicker than we are. How can they do it and not us?

Immigration. People say, "just do it legally!" However, there are also forces in play making legal immigration more difficult to achieve for select groups. It is virtually impossible for some people. Desperate people simply cannot wait for laws to change, especially when there seems little chance of that change happening anytime soon. There are families that would never see their loved ones if they waited until every document was in order before crossing. Instead of telling immigrants to wait, perhaps we should be taking decisive action to solve our immigration fiasco which does not respect human dignity. It only creates a vulnerable population who can be easily exploited for cheap labor.

Conclusion

Every reasonable person knows that change does indeed take time and there may be some strategic compromises along the way, at least temporarily. But real leaders come right out and state their vision. They name their goals. They point the way to where they want to go. They weather the resistance along the way. You don't have to guess where they really stand. Ultimately, we have to decide if our actions are more like Martin Luther King Jr.--who we like to idolize--or whether they are more like the eight white moderate clergymen who urged MLK to "show restraint."

Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”

-Martin Luther King Jr.

Social Justice, the Good Samaritan and Outsourcing Charity

A portrait of personal involvement.

The Good Samaritan by William Henry Margetson (cropped)

One of the most common arguments I hear against "social justice" is this:

Many Christians believe the Gospel calls us to get personally involved in doing charity. They argue that we shouldn't work to improve economic and political systems because that would be outsourcing our Christian responsibilities to a third party, such as the government. For example, they would say Jesus calls us to personally feed the hungry (Matthew 25:31-46), not to pay taxes so that the government can do that for us.

The story of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37) shows why this is false.

As you know from the story, Jesus himself holds up the Good Samaritan as a model of a "good neighbor." The Good Samaritan helped the injured man he found on the side of the road. Indeed, he took personal responsibility to provide personal care for this man. No question about it.

The Samaritan "took pity," so he was emotionally involved. He provided immediate triage of the man's wounds using his own wine and oils.  He helped transport him using his own donkey.

But that wasn't all he did.

Remember that the Good Samaritan was a busy man who was in the middle of some business of his own. What did he do?  He paid an innkeeper to take care of this man during a period of time when the Samaritan could not be there himself. However, he promised to watch over this process and to return to make sure this work had been done to his specifications.

Jesus does call each of us to be personally involved, no question about that. Christian charity as Christ describes it is not the kind where we simply write a check and forget about it. Rather, we are to get viscerally involved on every level of our being. The parable tell us that there are many ways in which to do that.

The Good Samaritan continued to be personally involved even when he solicited the help of another person in this work. The Good Samaritan was wise to involve the innkeeper who had the time and skills to provide what he couldn't. However, the Good Samaritan didn't "check out" by writing a check.  Rather, he continued to be very much involved.

The Role of the Government

Many people misunderstand the role of governments in this way. They consider the government to be the "nanny state" which has taken our personal involvement away from us. Therefore they believe it is "more Christian" to do things on our own rather than involve the government. However, that is not a fair understanding of the government. Yes, we are indeed called to be personally responsible and be our brother's keeper. Just like the Good Samaritan, people may choose to exercise their personal responsibility by working together as a collective group or by hiring experts at strategic points. They stay attentive to the process to make sure the work gets done. An active, engaged citizen in a democracy has in no way diminished her level of personal responsibility to the "nanny state." She's going to personally elect representatives and then watch over them like a hawk to make sure they do the job they were elected to do.

I have never seen any moral difference between helping others as individuals, as a family, as a church community or as a whole society using the resources of the government. The only difference is the scale--and that is the point.  The government has a reach that no other organization has.  It is simply the best tool for some jobs. To not use that tool would be irresponsible if that tool were the best one to get the job done.

For example, if my neighbor falls off his roof, I will personally make sure he gets medical care.  However, I will not be the one providing that care. Instead, I will take him to the hospital. I am definitely personally involved, but I am not going to directly attempt to provide medical care--that would be dangerous since I don't have medical training. But I CAN be an advocate and make sure he gets to the hospital and gets the right people working on him. As you can see, there are times when involving others who have more skills than ourselves may be the more responsible--and yes, more Christian--thing to do than simply doing it ourselves.

That's what the Good Samaritan did. Because he didn't have the time, skills or resources (or a combination of all of these), he chose to involve the innkeeper. And remember:  Jesus holds up the Good Samaritan as a model of a good neighbor.

Likewise, when we work together with our fellow citizens to solve a problem together as a whole group rather than as isolated individuals, it may not simply be an option, it may actually be the most responsible thing to do from a Christian standpoint.

Why We Don't Say 'Illegals'

You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.

Exodus 20:16

Imagine:  You are walking in a parking lot on a hot, summer day. You notice a baby in distress inside a locked car. There are no other adults around, including the child's parents.

What do you do? Without question: You break into the car to save the baby. 

Would it be fair if people called you a “criminal” for “breaking into a car”? No, that would be woefully unfair. You are saving a baby’s life, not criminalizing a car—even though, in a very limited, technical sense, someone could rightfully point that out you did indeed break into a car without permission. 

However, we all know that it would be misleading to be labelled as a “criminal carjacker” for the rest of your life for this effort to save the life of a baby. It would be far more likely that people would refer to you as a "hero."They would describe your actions as "saving a baby's life" not "breaking into a car." People would mention breaking into the car only in passing to describe how it happened. They would not use that action to label who you are.

In much the same way, undocumented immigrants should not be called “illegals” nor should asylum seekers be said to be “sneaking in.” These terms paint a misleading picture—no doubt to discredit and reduce sympathy for these people. However, spreading a misleading testimony about others is a violation of one of the 10 Commandments.

An asylum seeker can legally enter the U.S. without papers and then apply for asylum. Some may indeed enter on their own (i.e. "sneak in") while they are in the process of requesting asylum. However, it would be a false witness to label them as "sneaking in." It would be far more accurate to describe them—and their actions—as "seeking asylum." That is the more fair and honest witness of our neighbors' actions. While they are in the long process of seeking asylum, one of their actions may be to "sneak in" but it would be misleading to take that one minor instance to label the whole person.

To say that some asylum seekers are “sneaking in” is to exploit a technicality to build a misleading caricature of the person. It is a lie, even if it is based on some degree of truth. After all, it is quite possible to spread a false testimony using only factually true statements to do so!

Furthermore, the asylum seekers in the migrant caravan are not an "invasion" nor are they a "threat"—even the U.S. military has confirmed this, so anyone continuing to use those terms has no justification for doing so and is simply violating God's commandment at this point.

Most undocumented immigrants are not "criminals." They are good people who have made a difficult decision to escape violence and poverty and to provide for their families. They have proven this by being good neighbors to us all these years living here in the states. It would be breaking one of God's commandments to refer to them as "illegals," because that is a false testimony of who they are—it would be more accurate to say they are good people who made a tough decision to provide for their families, and in doing so, some committed a legal misdemeanor. 

Just like the person who broke into the car to save the baby in the opening example, it would be far more truthful to refer to most undocumented immigrants are "heroes" rather than as "illegals."

My neighbors set off illegal fireworks all summer. Should I refer to them as "illegals"? Or are they just "folks having a good time"? Both are technically true, but which is the more honest witness? Given what the fireworks did to the sleep habits of my toddler, I don't have much sympathy for them. At least the undocumented immigrants did what they did in an attempt to provide for their families. All my neighbors are doing is just being inconsiderate of others.

How we label people perhaps says more about who we are more than it may say about the people we are attempting to describe. Perhaps we should just drop all these labels, as all of them dehumanize the people we are talking about by reducing these dignified, beautiful, complex human beings into some narrow category.

Christians Knowing Christians Without Agenda

Catholic, Methodist and Baptist: Pastors and friends.
Picture and story here.

"My prayer is not for them alone. I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message, that all of them may be one,Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me."

(John 17:20-21)

What should we do over the fact that Christianity has been fractured into so many denominations, groups and sub-groups?  Some call these divisions a scandal. They say it's against the will of Christ himself (John 17:20-21). Other say divisions are necessary to preserve the purity of the faith. Others say it's just human nature.

A number of people want to mend these wounds and tear down these fences. We may call this an effort toward "Christian unity," or "ecumenism," or sometimes we just call it building better  "denominational relationships."

It is tempting to want to solve the whole "problem." You start asking:  How can we reconcile all differences, heal all pains and represent one unified Christianity? Does that mean everyone joins one denomination or that we all merge together into one giant church?

There may be nothing wrong with those goals. Perhaps Christ himself has something in mind for the Omega point in the future where "all who believe" are indeed "one." Perhaps we already are one in some mystical, cosmic way that only Christ can see but we can only catch mere snippets of from time to time. Even so, it sure seems unfortunate that our outward signs here on earth speak more of division and the very real wounds these divisions have caused.

Perhaps it's the realist in me that is emerging with age or the fact that I've been immersed in this work for a while now, but in my opinion the prospects for Christian unity need not be quite so bold nor immediate. This doesn't mean we quit trying. If Christ wants oneness, then it is our job to keep working for it, even if the goal seems impossible, or at the very least, very far off. In the Roman Catholic Church, recent popes and Vatican documents have all affirmed that it is part of the mission of the Church—and the duty of every believer—to do something for the unity among Christian believers. After all, miracles do happen. More has been accomplished in the last few decades than anyone would have thought possible a short while before. We have to look no further than the 1999 Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification signed by the Lutheran World Federation and the Catholic Church to see profound agreement on the single most divisive issue of the Reformation. This has since been signed on by a number of other denominations.

But a lot of people don't even want any kind of full unity that requires a single institutional church at the helm. Others are too impatient to wait or find the task too impossible. If working towards Christian unity requires someone to affirm these goals, then many will opt out of the whole process

Again, maybe it's the realist in me coming out, but perhaps we should put aside those dreamy, lofty goals. We don't have to give up on our hopes, of course, but we can maybe try a different approach. Instead, here is what I propose: 

At the very least, Christians of all denominations out to get to know each other as neighbors, friends and most importantly as people of faith. If we stumble across a wound, we an do something to try to heal it.  We can celebrate the good things we see in each other and the very real gifts that God has given to others. We can offer constructive feedback to each other when we see things that worry us—and that feedback will be heard a lot better if it comes in the context of true friendship. We can and should do the things together that we can do together.  

Maybe—just maybe—it's perfectly alright if we don't try to change each other or propose some major changes for how the church looks and behaves on earth.  But we ought to get to know each other.

Too often, people imagine an end goal of "perfect Christian unity" and find it either so threatening—or it seems so impossible—that they give up doing reasonable, friendly things in the meantime. They worry they are being asked to give up too much of their identity or beliefs to go down that road. [Just for the record, in my experience, the professionals who work for Christian unity do a great job respecting differences and do not simply gloss over them as a matter of principle, although mistakes can happen in this, but overall this is what I've found.]

We can stay in our respective churches, but we don't have to seclude ourselves in some kind of protective bunker. We shouldn't pretend that the others don't exist and create an isolated bubble for ourselves to live in. After all, we know that other Christians of other stripes most certainly do exist.  We can say "hello," acknowledge each other and get to know each other.

Is this some kind of subversive, sneaky attempt to let our guards down so the ecumenical Trojan horse can enter? Not at all. I am in fact proposing the opposite—getting to know each other without any other agenda or ulterior motive. 

Having said that, I have to admit that change is always more likely when we don't push so hard for it. The paradox is that once we truly—and I mean really and truly and genuinely—respect each other as we are that creates the space for growth, evolution and yes, perhaps even miracles. But perhaps that would all come on Christ's terms and not our own, in which case that would be a wonderful thing, no? Christ seems to work best when we get our own agenda out of the way.

But back to being the realist—I don't need or want to change you. But I ought to get to know you. After all, we both profess to follow this same guy Christ. And we inhabit the same public spaces. As a Christian, part of my responsibility is to at the very least get to know Christians of other stripes and build positive relationships, perhaps even mutually-beneficial relationships, whenever possible. Many Christians are already doing this.

And sometimes in doing this I pause and say to myself... "I actually like that you are different from me.... it gives me a chance to learn something new and see things differently." And maybe somewhere in this we find the miracle of the unity we already have—and a taste of the unity to come.

All Christians are Asylum-Seekers

A Christian IS an asylum-seeker.  

All of us.  Each of us.  

By definition.

As refugees, don't we need to flee from the sin of this world? Don't we come to the proverbial Gates of God's Kingdom as asylum-seekers, begging that God may allow us to enter?    

Some have argued—without exaggeration—that the entire Bible is a story of migration.

In the Bible, we read that Noah was adrift at sea until God brought his ark to a safe landing. Abraham set out with little more than his family en route to the Promised Land. Moses led the Israelites out of captivity and slavery. Jesus the Good Shepherd leads his sheep from the sin of this world to enlightenment and to His Kingdom, both on earth as it is in Heaven. The Apostles went forth into the world sharing the Good News. 

In the Catholic Church, we understand that we are a "pilgrim people." It's our very identity. See this link for quotes from documents of Vatican II as well as from Pope John Paul II on this. We are a people on the move.

Movement of people is an underlying theme in all of Scripture—in particular the movement of desperate people. I rarely say that "the Bible" has one message, but in this case it truly does. You could argue that it's there on every page, in every passage.

To not self-identify as a migrant is to understand neither the Bible nor Christianity.

To not understand that moving out of your comfort zone toward trusting in what God has prepared for you is to miss so much of the Biblical message. This can be an interior movement as your own thoughts mature or it can be an exterior change in your surroundings. It can be a movement you undertake as an individual, a family or as a whole nation of people.

Aren't we ALL asylum seekers who seek refuge in God's kingdom?

If there is ANY role that can best emulate our relationship with God, it should be that of refugee and asylum-seeker. This is how we come to God: We are the huddled masses of desperate, poor people gathered outside God's gate, begging for mercy and a warm welcome in—a welcome we can't purchase or deserve. And may God have mercy on us for how we treat others who are migrants, immigrants, refugees and asylum-seekers. We will want safe passage and a warm welcome into God's kingdom, but did we grant safe harbor to others when they begged for it, when we easily could have provided it?

This is the migrants journey—but not just any migrant.  This is the journey of a refugee—but not just any refugee. This is the journey of an asylum-seeker.  This is the position we are in when we come to God.  We are at the gates of God's Kingdom, begging for entry, and there is nothing we can do to merit it, earn it, buy it or deserve it. We have nothing to barter with. Only God's mercy will let us in, and thank God there is mercy in abundance!

It would be wrong to ignore many passages in the Bible which claim there is a direct relationship between the mercy we give in this world and the mercy we receive from God. Look at the story of the Good Samaritan in Luke 10:25-37 or the parable of the sheep and goats in Matthew 25:31-46. I know it is tricky as that enters into the whole "works vs grace" debate, and I don't want to get into that here. Furthermore, some people may not interpret these "Kingdom" passages to be about an afterlife in Heaven, but this blog post is written for those who do. Perhaps these passages have more to do with how well we "know God" rather than whether or not we get a ticket to Heaven.

So when you see the huddled masses who have traveled thousands of miles with little more than the clothes on their backs approaching the U.S. border begging for safety—THAT is exactly what we look like when we approach the proverbial Gates of Heaven.  

More importantly: Does that change our attitudes about them at all? 

Sometime we feel lost at sea, like Noah, doing all we can to just hold on for the ride. Sometimes we set out daringly like Abraham. Sometimes our whole family—and our whole people—are running for our lives like the Israelites out of Egypt. Sometimes we agree to our mission as formed disciples, like the Apostles. But in all this, we are a people on the move, trusting in God.

Maybe you'll "get to Heaven" whether you help out these asylum-seekers or not—after all, our God is a God of mercy. But then again how can you get to Heaven if you don't know God, and if you see these huddled masses and see neither yourself nor Christ in them, then can you really say you know God? And furthermore, don't you want to know God just for the sake of knowing God, whether or not that comes with a ticket to Heaven or not?