From One Racist Human to Another

I try to keep up to date on the news. It’s tough to read. I suppose to an extent it always has been. News really means extreme events, often rare, that scare us and make us angry. It’s almost like the news is appealing to some sort of base human instinct that makes us…turn on the news. Our news is like a drug, but I digress.

It’s hard to pull out any conclusions about our society or world from the news without over generalizing, but I think it’s fair to say this about mass media, and really, much of humanity. We are a dualistic, polarized people.

Black Lives Matter vs. Blue Lives Matter

Democrats vs. Republicans

Christians vs. Muslims

I’m writing this post because of some events that have happened recently, and some interpretations of those events that I believe are over generalizations. To paint a dualistic picture requires a broad brush, and if there’s one commonality between all the talk I see on my Facebook page, and read in the news, and see on T.V., it’s a broad brush. 

This is my dad. He died when I was in middle school, but he’s still by far my greatest role model. Instead of going out with his buddies after work, he would come home to my brother and me. It’s hard to remember his voice now, but I can still hear him say as clear as day, “Hey buddy.” My brother and me—we were his buddies. My dad loved his family. He loved people. My mom told me that my dad never met a stranger. He worked to help people make better lives for themselves. He worked in schools to help children know they could be whatever they worked for.  He genuinely wanted to be a source of good in the world.

My dad was a police officer.

I guess it goes without saying then, given that my dad is my biggest role model, but I really look up to the law enforcement profession. It’s a profession that we’ve decided our government should provide in order to ensure our freedoms. To enforce the law and help ensure others do not suppress our freedoms.

I just watched the videos of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile. I was going to post the videos, but it's far too disturbing. You can watch them for yourself if you want. They're everywhere. As a person who looks up to police officers, this breaks my heart. I’m not going to pretend to know all the details of these incidents, but here’s what I do know—our great Christian country has a real problem with confessing our sins, and I say that as a professing Christian.

It took until the 1960’s to put an end to the Jim Crow laws that perpetuated racism from the top down since the civil war. Legislation that, at best, disenfranchised an entire race of people. That's the 1960's. We're not that far removed, if much at all, from that world. Some of us just have the luxury of pushing it aside or explaining it away. And what’s the justification for this mentality, for those laws?  Every reasonably thinking person I know would say that the way our skin looks makes no difference to our humanity, so why do we do this?

Since the dawn of our existence, humans have looked for opportunities for their group to have security, and security comes through power, and power is achieved when other groups become the threat. We create stories to justify this behavior. But at it’s core are stories, and the stories are a fiction to solidify our in-group—Primitive, survival of the fittest, fiction. And beneath the reasons, the justifications, the stories that explain away our racism?  Somewhere in our primitive brains, we are still afraid for our survival, and the solution is to hold tight to our group and band together against the “others.” I say all this because we have to admit that, as humans, we each have these instincts. I’m not even talking about stated beliefs. I’m talking about reactions. Preconceived notions and biases. Racist urges.

We have to confess our sins.

And what happens when we don’t? We push them away and pretend we’re not in the wrong, but the monster still exists just beneath the surface, until something baits the monster and the monster reacts. This is why many police departments are using bias training. They recognize that as humans, we have biases, and until we recognize these biases and confess, we are held captive to our sins.

Police officers are humans. Some recognize their biases, keep them in check, and strive to make a real difference in the world. And some don’t. And on the sidelines we have our polarized debates, one side refusing to believe that people in 2016 could be influenced by internal bias—by racism—and the other side refusing to admit that there are so many police officers that live their lives to serve others.

But this post really isn’t about police officers. This incident is a microcosm of how so many of us are approaching the world. We see fundamentalist, violent Muslims commit atrocities and then it’s all Muslims who are fundamentalist and violent. We see an ignorant Christian who says Orlando victims had it coming, and then it’s all Christians who are ignorant and judgmental. We see police officers that violently react to fear, and anger, and preconceived notions, and suddenly all police officers are racists.  This type of rhetoric is all over the place. Us verses them. In groups and out groups. Survival of the fittest.

We have a choice right now. We can respond to these incidents in the news, appealing to our base instincts, and perpetuate this cycle of fear, anger, hatred, and violence, or we can direct our judgement and hatred toward judgement and hatred itself. I'm not saying we should stop standing up against injustice. I'm saying that the real enemy is driving us all. Here is my challenge to all who read this post. Confess your sins. You’re a human. You have fear, and your fear is a defense mechanism for your survival. Admit it, and then lay it down. Because here’s the deal, folks—There are no "others." The ghosts aren’t real. We’re all humans who happen to be on different rocks, with different pieces of cloth covering our bodies, with different materials covering our heads from the elements. We might look a little different, or have different sounding voices, or different names, or different stories about the meaning of life.

But we all bleed the same.

Let’s put down our broad brushes. We are painting an ugly picture. 

This Land was Made for You AND Me

The first semester of my bachelor’s degree in history, I took a political science course from a very angry professor. Most of his lectures involved yelling, and lots of choice words. I’ll never forget the first day of class.

“Who in here thinks America is the greatest country on earth?” He asked. He was mad, and his anger was clearly in need of a target.

No one raised a hand. I was astonished. I thought, “Maybe everyone is just too afraid to talk in class. Maybe they’re afraid of how he’ll respond.” I felt like I had to say something. I hate it when that happens. When I can’t keep my big mouth shut.

Like now.

 My heart raced. My breathing grew short. I raised my hand. He pointed to me, glaring.

“Why?!” He commanded my answer.

 “I like our democracy. I like that we can elect the people we want to lead us.” I uttered, channeling the founding fathers. 

 “What about all the other democracies in the world?” He (literally) yelled, looking like someone just punched his mom. 

I hunkered down in my seat. “Good point,” I said quietly. Defeated.

“What?!”

“Good point.” I said, even quieter. He shook his head and continued on with his lecture.

My adrenaline was pumping. My ears were ringing. I stood up for what I believed in, and I was tarred and feathered. To be honest, I never really thought of other democracies until that point. I was always told America was the beacon for the world, the city on a hill. Don’t get me wrong, that guy was a douche, but I learned a lot in his class. Yet after all the many ways in which my beliefs have changed, and boy have they changed, I know what I would say now. I would say America is the greatest country to me. America is my home. America is my family. America is my blood, and just like most families, mine has its flaws. We have the senile grandparents, and the uncle who can’t keep himself from dropping political bombs on thanksgiving dinners (turns out that uncle is me). But this is my family nonetheless, and I don’t turn my back on my family. America is my home, and my home was built upon a foundation. A foundation of equality. A foundation of freedom. A foundation upon which all people have the chance to build happy lives for themselves and their families, no matter where they come from, or the color of their skin, or their religion.

Now, I have to steal from MLK, “I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed.” Our founders knew that those beliefs were indeed a foundation. A foundation to “form a more perfect union.” Because this union isn’t perfect. It wasn’t then, and it isn’t now. The foundation is down, yet the house is far from finished. But as long as we strive to keep building on our foundation, then we will move closer to the America that I envisioned when I pledged allegiance every morning in elementary school—the America that had enough room for different opinions, different beliefs about god and money, different languages and different national origins.

The great American melting pot.

I’m writing this post because I believe some people have hijacked a love for country and staked sole authority of it. They say they’re the ones who will make America great again, and anyone else can get out. I’m writing this post to say that the red, white, and blue belongs to me too. I'm writing this because this land was made for you and me. I’m writing this to say that I believe this truth to be self evident:

America is great because we can speak different languages, have different religions, come from different chunks of rock, and live free together. Just because Westboro Baptist Church protests funerals doesn’t mean that all baptists are Westboro Baptists. Just because the KKK was and is full of white southern men doesn’t mean that all white southern men are like the KKK. Just because a disenfranchised group of murdering, power hungry, angry ass holes who say they are Muslims are trying to fill a power vacuum doesn’t mean that all Muslims are murdering, power hungry, angry ass holes.

There are some people who say they want to make America great, and yet it is some of those very people that are spitting in the face of the very ideals that gave America its greatness. I will not divide us up by language, national origin, sexual orientation, skin color, or religion. I stand with my peace loving Muslim brothers and sisters, and I proudly fly the red, white, and blue. I stand with my LGBT brothers and sisters, and I proudly fly the red, white, and blue. We are all Americans.

And when someone who says making America great is to piss on the values that it was built upon, I’m going to raise my hand and speak.

Bob Rell

I've been reading a lot of angry posts from my Christian friends regarding a former pastor's recent statements about homosexuality and the bible. I have an opinion on the subject that I don't feel is often or adequately presented to many Christians around me. I hear people who disagree, but those voices often seem loud, angry, and extreme. I want to do my part to state a different opinion. To add an unfamiliar voice to this conversation. Unfortunately, I'm sure I won't adequately state the idea as clearly and artfully as many others, but hey, that's what blogs are for, right? Plus, if you're reading this, you're probably one of around 8, so I don't think I have much to lose. Now, for the sake of keeping this post universal and avoid calling out the particular controversy, I want to keep this pastor anonymous, however, if you are nerdy about religion like me and you're into this sort of conversation, you probably know who I'm talking about anyway. So that said, from henceforth I will call this pastor

Bob.

Bob Rell.

Everyone interprets the Bible. It is impossible to read anything without interpreting it, and the bible is no exception. If someone reads it as a literal constitution of guidelines from God, that in and of itself is a presupposition they are bringing to the text, just as much as any other historical, theological, or literary interpretation. That said, I want to diverge for a moment and say that I've never met anyone who reads the bible as a literal constitution from God. I've heard people say that they do, but I don't believe they actually do. For example, when Paul says that slaves should obey their masters in Ephesians 6:5, I never hear people say, "Well the bible says it, so that's what slaves should do. So, the underground railroad? Heresy." Instead, they put it into a cultural and historical context. Now just imagine if one was an expert on ancient near eastern culture. I bet when they filtered Paul's words through their interpretive lens, they would have much more to say on the subject, and yet, even then there is only so much a person can know about ancient near eastern culture, so even then their best well educated and heart felt attempt to understand the scripture in context would be to some degree misinformed.

Even the smartest interpreters of the bible can only see the tip of the iceberg at best.

The same could be said about Paul's words concerning women speaking in the church. Or wearing fancy jewelry. And yet, people don't get upset when someone has an explanation for these passages other than universal commands. When someone says, "No, Paul was talking specifically to the Corinthian church about that, so it doesn't apply to Suzy's bible study," no one is up in arms. Why not? Why not say, "No, Paul said it so that's that." Why don't we hear arguments on slaves, silent women, braided hair or expensive clothes anymore? Because those are no longer counter-cultural issues. This anger arising in the church, at its roots, has nothing to do with how people approach our sacred texts and attempt to understand God's mysterious word. It has to do with what we believe making us feel right, and defending that comforting feeling. We believe it because it seems right to us, and we use our sacred text to justify it, and because we use our sacred text to justify it, our interpretation must come from God. As someone once said, "everyone is conservative about something."

Now, about Bob Rell.

I have my own presuppositions and interpretive lens when I read and attempt to understand a passage of scripture, but so do you, and so does Bob Rell. I also know that I will spend my whole life attempting to grasp a clearer picture of God's word. But the truth is, I don't know. I don't know what the real truth is. I'm trying, but as I learn more, more often than not my biggest lesson is that I know less than I ever thought I did. I get why people are upset. "Bob Rell said the bible is a bunch of 2000 year old letters!" Here's the thing, they are! Please hear me out, I understand that they are more than that to Christians, but they are more than that to Bob too.  If we don't have a reason for what we believe other than, "Cuz the bible says so," then we are denying the existence of our very own, very human interpretive lens. If this is how we respond to other opinions and questions, than irrelevant is a nice way to put it. I would say arrogant and illogical, but that's why I'm not a pastor. We are pretending that how we read the bible is automatically from God simply because we believe it, and that's way too much credit to give to our tiny minds. That doesn't mean everything we think is wrong, necessarily. But it also doesn't mean that Jesus sat with us in Sunday School and taught us how to read the bible.

I'm not too sure of my self on most things, but one thing I can say with absolute certainty is refusing to admit I could be wrong about anything is choosing to close my mind to potential truth. The absolute worst thing I could do in trying to understand the Bible better is to insult other Christians when they interpret a text different than me. The word I hear used most often to do this is heresy. Heresy was a word invented by people who were afraid to admit they could be wrong. Afraid to admit their own frailty and humanity, because if it turns out that they didn't have it figured out, it would undermine their righteousness and power over "the other." As my wife's family member once said,

"We don't even understand how a cow's digestive system is different than ours. We don't know bullshit." 

But that's a pretty big pill to swallow, isn't it?

Religion is what happens when the sacred is filtered through feeble human understanding. It's not wrong, but the second we try to stick God in it, we are worshiping a golden calf, and everyone knows one of the easiest things for us humans to do is to worship golden calves. And all in the name of Jesus? The one who fulfilled God's law by deconstructing it? Please go read John 8:1-11, when Jesus blatantly disagrees with the law of Moses. There's a reason he stirred up trouble with religious authorities. Jesus was a heretic. Why? Because to grow closer to a real, mysterious God of the entire freakin' universe, you have to be.

To sum up what I'm trying to say, Bob Rell may be wrong about how to understand the Bible's verses on homosexuality. But so may we. So let's stop pretending that OUR interpretations of God's word is in fact God's word.

Reflections on a Naked Genius

I have a friend who is literally a genius, but he won’t let you know it. At least on purpose. Sometimes he can’t help it. He’s quiet, and listens intently to what everyone has to say without interruption. When you talk to him, you feel like your opinion matters. Even when you disagree with him, and he can clearly wipe the floor with your argument, he makes you feel like you’re on the same playing field. On the rare occasion he speaks, and when he speaks you listen. I look up to him more than most people.

I have other friends who like to spend their energy listening to themselves talk. They like to post pointed arguments on Facebook to stir up controversy and prove everybody else wrong. It's not that they’re unintelligent…at least some of them. They just talk A L O T. I fall into this category rather than that of my genius friend. It’s not an admirable trait.

My friend has something figured out that those of us too busy talking need to understand. So what is it? What separates my friend from the talking heads? It's not intelligence. The answer, I think, is humility. My friend doesn’t just treat me respectfully, listen more, talk less, and fail to judge me because he pities my lowly level of understanding. You can always tell when someone is being kind out of pity. No, he actually views me as an equal. Humility is the key word. Simple enough, right?

Once Jesus talked about some traits of people who are blessed. People who have it together. People that live in harmony with the Kingdom of God. The first three were the poor in spirit, those who mourn, and the meek. So in other words, the people that have it together are the people that realize they don’t have anything together.

I see a trend amongst Christians to shy away from these things. There is a pressure to be happy all the time because of Jesus. An illusion is created that, because of Christ, all our struggles are wiped away, that we have all the answers, and that we are the only right ones. And everyone else?

Outsiders.


If you’re looking at the beatitudes through this lens, you would read, “Blessed are those that have all the answers, for they will be so sure about life that they will never be down-trodden.”
If you’re anything like me when you experience this, you start to feel like you’re not on the same level of Christian as those around you. You feel like you have to cover who you really are, and what you really think, and arm yourself with a shield of comebacks to defend against honest questioning.

Don’t get me wrong, I believe truth is something we should always be searching for. If you have an opinion, and have a strong reason to support it, that is a good thing. The problem is that under every good opinion is a person that doesn’t have it all figured out, and hasn’t even come close to scratching the surface of the mysteries of God and the universe. But it’s hard to deal with brokenness. No one wants to stand naked, revealing to themselves and the world every imperfection. So we clothe ourselves with all the right answers. We put on our Super Christian suits and disguise who we really are. 

   

The truth is we’re all Clark Kent. The problem is none of us are Superman.


People will always do this. Everyone wants to cover their brokenness with something, and an easy way to do it is to convince ourselves that we have it all figured out. Christian, Atheist, Muslim, you name it. No one is immune. If we think that an area of our lives is safe from pride, then we’ve found the most vulnerable area of our lives for pride to exploit. God loves all of us for who we really are underneath our beliefs and disguises. The moment we acknowledge this is the moment that we step off of our high horses and see our neighbors eye to eye. It’s as the scriptures say, we love because He first loved us. The real us. 
When we see who we really are, and acknowledge the poverty of our spirit, we are free to mourn with our neighbors in their brokenness. We are freed from the pressure to be right, and can finally approach the world with meekness and love. When we lay down our pride, we live as humans. When we live as humans, we live in harmony with our Creator.

"My religion consists of a humble admiration of the illimitable superior spirit who reveals himself in the slight details we are able to perceive with our frail and feeble mind."

-Albert Einstein

Its Written in the Stars (at my Mom's House).

When I visit my mom’s house, I can get away from everything for a while. It’s a suburban community, but a little outside of the city lights, so on clear nights, the stars just shine. Its crazy, because for some reason on nights like that you can almost see the curve of the earth, and when the moon gets really big, its frightening. But I love it. It. It makes me feel so tiny. Like I’m just an infinitesimal little blip in the universe, because I guess that’s what we all really are. We just forget. Our problems start to build, and pretty soon they seem a lot bigger than this world we’re in. We don’t take the time to stop, and look up at the sky, and realize just how small we all really are. I like to look up there when I get stressed. I’m one of those people that makes themselves feel like there’s way more going on in their life than there actually is. So when I have a couple assignments to do, plus errands to run, and bills to pay, I absolutely freak out. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about. I talk to lots of people in the Starbucks drive-through that are just like me. You might just be one of those people. Always in a hurry, have to get your coffee within a 2-minute window or you’ll freak out because you woke up late and have to get to work because if you miss your meeting the world will end. You know what I’m talking about. We like to think that we’re selfless, but for the most part, we’re really not. When you have a problem does it feel like the world is crashing down? Ever feel like the world is one your shoulders. That’s because (if you’re anything like me) in our little world— it is. But the thing is, we actually don’t live in our little worlds. We may think we do, but look up. You are under the same sky as me. And we are under the same sky as the millionaires with the fancy cars and houses, and as the people living in third world countries, and as the families in Haiti or Japan that have lost loved ones because their world has literally shaken. This is our world. 

I think it’s interesting in the book of Job, when Job questions God because of his problems, God spends the rest of the book reminding him of the great big creation He’s made. I suppose when Job looked at it from that perspective, things seemed all together different. I think if Job and I went stargazing at my mom’s house, we would probably have a lot to say to each other. We’re all just a bunch of Jobs. We think we have these tremendous issues; that the universe is crashing down, and we all have all these justifications for why our lives just suck. But the reality is, the universe isn’t crashing down. Our lives, our problems, our houses and cars that we work so hard for just so we can have shiny knobs to turn on road trips and smoother pieces of wood to walk on when we wake up in the morning… its all one little infinitesimal blip. Lots of Bible writers like to call it a vapor. Its there, and then its gone, and even when its there its so small you can barely even see it.

So on one hand, I can breath easy. I can thank God for the great big sky and all the constant reminders that my problems are nothing in the real world that I live in, and I can just chill out. But that raises another problem for me. If that’s it, then what the heck am I here for anyway? I’m just one of the 6 billion something people on this planet for this short amount of time, and then everything that is everything to me passes away. Then there’s new people— new dreams, new jobs, new homes and cars and retirement plans… And all I worked for so hard…its gone. But there is some thing that lasts. Its all-out, self-sacrificial love. Take a life of somebody who was dedicated to their job, who worked hard and got a bunch of stuff, and hold it up to a life of somebody who cared more about the people around them than they did about themselves. The lover takes the cake (please remember that phrase, and quote it regularly)! If there’s anything I can take from my years as a history major, its that there have been a BUNCH of people who lived before us. I know it sounds simple, but do we ever stop and think about it? Think about how many people before us have freaked out because of a homework assignment, or for a job, or because they got money stolen from them, or because they got a really cool new car (or horse…), and guess what? NO ONE CARES! It was all for nothing. Vanity, as Ecclesiastes would say it. But the force that moves through those who sacrifice themselves for the good of those around them, that sticks. That what moves us. Because there is a truth woven into the fabric of creation, and at the core of every human soul, and it is self-sacrificial love. And it changes our lives on an individual level, and as communities, and nations, and even the whole world. It’s the universal key to our hearts! As a follower of Jesus, this is what I think of as the Kingdom of Heaven, and when I live for that, I fully believe I’m so much more fulfilled than I could ever be with any amount of stuff.

So when you’re freaking out because of some assignment, or some amount of money, or because somebody did you wrong, just ask why. And when you’re giving every bit of energy to some thing, again, ask why.  Is it so you can get a bunch of stuff? Is that what your life is about? Then welcome to the club of billions of others who have lived for stuff, and get ready to join the club who’s tireless work for stuff amounted to a big bunch of nothing. But hey, you have a nice, smooth surface to walk on when you go home, and your car has really cool knobs to turn when you listen to music. Congratulations. Or maybe its so you can take care of your families, and in that case, awesome. I would say that falls into the self-sacrificing love category. But is it so you can take care of them, or be able to give them a big bunch of meaningless stuff, so they can and get the opportunity to earn a bunch of stuff, and…well, I think you get the picture. Is it for love, or stuff? You would think that if there was any meaning in life, we would all have the capacity to fulfill it. It wouldn’t depend on one being born in the right place and time so they have the right opportunities to get a bunch of stuff. When we live our lives to love, we can be fulfilled now, and we can succeed immediately. We all have the capacity to do it. You don’t have to get somewhere to be happy. There is no making it. You’re already there. If you’re a doctor, you’re there. If you’re a Drive-through worker at Wendy’s, you’re there, if you’re in America, or Japan, or Palestine, you’re in the right place. Joy and fulfillment is ours for the taking. And when love is the goal, when the Kingdom of Heaven is our drive, there isn’t any reason to freak out about all the stuff that happens to us. Its like we live in harmony with this great big world we’re in. In all this craziness, stuff starts to make sense. Our little worlds just disappear. If you don’t believe me, come with me over to my mom’s house. I think its written somewhere in the stars.