Yesterday hundreds of people peacefully assembled in Mansfield to protest the senseless killing of George Floyd. Some held signs, some shouted slogans such as “I can’t breath”, while others gathered in groups to kneel and pray.
As I looked around me, I was filled with emotions. I hurt with those that were hurting. I had to fight back tears over the tears I saw. My soul longed for a day when such protest won’t be necessary.
As I looked around me, the bell tower from a nearby church started playing a hymn.
I come to the garden alone
While the dew is still on the roses,
And the voice I hear falling on my ear,
The Son of God discloses
And He walks with me and He talks with me,
And He tells me I am his own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
And the voice I hear falling on my ear,
The Son of God discloses
And He walks with me and He talks with me,
And He tells me I am his own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known
As the father of 5 sons, I have had to deal with a lot of concerns over the years. At times I haven’t known how we were going to pay our next rent, or how we are going to afford to buy food. I’ve had sick boys, and expensive hospital bills. At one point, we went for more than half a year without a vehicle that could carry our family. These concerns were real. They are no respecter of persons in that anyone can experience these problems.
As a white man there are questions I don’t have to ask myself on a daily basis, that others do. Will my sons be unfairly treated due to the color of their skin? Will they be targeted by law enforcement, such as being pulled over for driving while black? If they choose to go to college, or get a promotion at work, will people look at them and question if they only got where they are due to their skin color?
This does not mean that all families of color will deal with all the same concerns I and other whites have dealt with. Some may be affluent and not have the financial concerns, but still will have to deal with concerns over their children being targeted because of the shade of their skin.
As a young man, I could go just about anywhere day or night and I didn’t have to worry that my presence along would be considered a threat. I could jog (who am I kidding, I never ran unless I had to) without my parents worrying they would receive a phone call that I had been shot ruthlessly by men for the only crime of jogging while black. I could go and buy Skittles without having to worry about being perceived as “up to no good” just for “walking around, looking about”, and then shot even after the 911 dispatcher told the shooter to back off. I feel confident that my sons are likely to have the same liberties that I had, as they grow up. Liberties that their POC peers may not be granted.
At the Black Lives Matter protest I observed young and old, blacks and whites, peacefully raising their voices together as if to say enough is enough. I saw senior citizens and young children. All wanting a better world for themselves, their children, their grandchildren, or maybe just for the youth in their neighborhood.
It is so tempting to say not my fight, hug my boys and blame all ill that falls on others as something they must have brought upon themselves. But while it is tempting, I am reminded of the final stanza of the hymn that chimed out as noon struck during the protest.
I stay in the garden with Him,
As a young man, I could go just about anywhere day or night and I didn’t have to worry that my presence along would be considered a threat. I could jog (who am I kidding, I never ran unless I had to) without my parents worrying they would receive a phone call that I had been shot ruthlessly by men for the only crime of jogging while black. I could go and buy Skittles without having to worry about being perceived as “up to no good” just for “walking around, looking about”, and then shot even after the 911 dispatcher told the shooter to back off. I feel confident that my sons are likely to have the same liberties that I had, as they grow up. Liberties that their POC peers may not be granted.
At the Black Lives Matter protest I observed young and old, blacks and whites, peacefully raising their voices together as if to say enough is enough. I saw senior citizens and young children. All wanting a better world for themselves, their children, their grandchildren, or maybe just for the youth in their neighborhood.
It is so tempting to say not my fight, hug my boys and blame all ill that falls on others as something they must have brought upon themselves. But while it is tempting, I am reminded of the final stanza of the hymn that chimed out as noon struck during the protest.
I stay in the garden with Him,
Though the night around me is falling.
But He bids me go; through the voice of woe
His voice to me is calling.
It would be easier to go to a protest saying it is my biblical right to refuse to wear a face mask, or go to a protest that says that being told we cannot meet in a building on a Sunday morning is a violation of the command to “not forsake assembling together” (which, by the way, it isn’t). We could cry persecution when Hobby Lobby or Chic-Fil-A are told they aren’t welcome. All of those are much more self-centered and easier than stepping out of our comfort zone to stand with our friends and neighbors and other POCs who are often denied the liberties we take for granted.
But He bids me go. While I may prefer to stay in the garden with Him, He wants me to go and be His hands and feet in this world. Jesus said that the greatest commandments are to love God and love my neighbor. The Apostle John says we cannot say we love God if we don’t love our neighbor. So I will stand with my neighbors of color. I will cry with them. I will demand that the injustices lobbied against them stop. I will use the voice I have, as a person of privilege, to tell my fellow whites to stop blaming the blacks for all the troubles that befall them, when you haven’t taken the time to listen to them and understand why some reach the point of rioting. I will say that history has led us to where we are, and until we acknowledge our own sins and the sins of our ancestors, it is disingenuous to pick the speck out of the eyes of the POC’s around us.
Get angry. Call me out. I can handle that. But, take the time to listen to the cries and hurts of our neighbors who are not listened to by those of us in white America. Just as my young boys at times will act out to get my attention, maybe just maybe people acting out through rioting is the only way we will listen to them. Yes, it may be necessary to deal with the actions (rioting) but if we only focus on the action and not the underlying reason that led them to that point, we have missed the whole point.
I stand with those around me and will say, unashamedly, black lives matter. And until our society acts in such a way that makes that statement true, the whole society around us is a house of cards and false promises. When black men aren’t granted life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness the same way I am, then we have a problem, one that all of us need to work together to remedy.
But He bids me go. While I may prefer to stay in the garden with Him, He wants me to go and be His hands and feet in this world. Jesus said that the greatest commandments are to love God and love my neighbor. The Apostle John says we cannot say we love God if we don’t love our neighbor. So I will stand with my neighbors of color. I will cry with them. I will demand that the injustices lobbied against them stop. I will use the voice I have, as a person of privilege, to tell my fellow whites to stop blaming the blacks for all the troubles that befall them, when you haven’t taken the time to listen to them and understand why some reach the point of rioting. I will say that history has led us to where we are, and until we acknowledge our own sins and the sins of our ancestors, it is disingenuous to pick the speck out of the eyes of the POC’s around us.
Get angry. Call me out. I can handle that. But, take the time to listen to the cries and hurts of our neighbors who are not listened to by those of us in white America. Just as my young boys at times will act out to get my attention, maybe just maybe people acting out through rioting is the only way we will listen to them. Yes, it may be necessary to deal with the actions (rioting) but if we only focus on the action and not the underlying reason that led them to that point, we have missed the whole point.
I stand with those around me and will say, unashamedly, black lives matter. And until our society acts in such a way that makes that statement true, the whole society around us is a house of cards and false promises. When black men aren’t granted life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness the same way I am, then we have a problem, one that all of us need to work together to remedy.
