race

What it means to be white in America

Maybe like me, you watched the tensions rise and violence unfold in Ferguson, Missouri last night. It caused me to grieve and pray that the spirit of God would bring healing and unity to a community so torn by racial brokenness.

It caused me to think back to a conversation I had with a good friend who’s black. He’d had an experience where, as a black pastor in Northeast Washington, he’d been mistaken for a suspect of a break-in, had been slammed to the sidewalk with the words ‘on the ground nigger!’ (the policemen were black as well), handcuffed, arrested and taken to the precinct for questioning. It was only after hours in the holding cell that his true identity was established. When he asked for a ride back to his church, the officers responded, ‘find your own way home’.

As his friend, listening to the story, I was incredulous. How could that happen on the streets of America? How could two black cops treat another black that way?

His answer was elegant and haunting: “Being white in America means you never have to think about it.”

I routinely go to places in East Africa where I’m the first white man they’ve ever seen. Mostly I am at best a curiosity…children come near, rub my skin, and expect the ‘white’ to rub off. It really hilarious to watch their faces.

My presence there is seen as an attempt to bring some of the wealth of America to their village, so I am received with grace and honor.

It’s not like that when a black man or woman gets close to so many whites in America. Sadly, there is a pervasive, deep-seated distrust, even fear. Sadly, Michael Brown embodied that fear. A large overpowering black man threatening a white authority figure. Could it be more polarizing?

So, as my friend would say, being black in America means you ALWAYS have to think about it.

I watched Ferguson last night and wondered…what happened here? What caused these persons to be so angry, so distrusting. For the record, it has to be more than what someone on the police force did or didn’t do. This is larger…evidenced by protests and rioting in other cities.

We have a serious problem in America. Electing the first black president has done little, perhaps nothing, perhaps exacerbated the issue. I’m not surprised. The answer is not in politics. It must lie elsewhere.

I’ll never forget speaking in a tiny church in a little town in Kenya years ago when on a moments notice I was asked to stand and deliver that Sunday morning. There are 42 tribes in Kenya. The Kikuyu make up half the population…so they are largely in charge and hated by most of the other tribes.

As I stood to speak, the scripture on my mind and heart was Colossians 3:11 “Here there is no Gentile or Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, slave or free, but Christ is all and in all.” Imagine their surprise when I inserted the words, “Here there is no Kikuyu or Maasai…slave or free…”

In other words…in the Kingdom of God, labels don’t matter. We don’t see each other that way. It’s not about black or white, Democrat or Republican, rich or poor, educated or not.

God’s vision for us here in America and around the world is that the label we wear is this: People of the Kingdom…Followers of Jesus.

As people of faith may today be the day when we look up from our lives and begin to become a part of the answer…praying for reconciliation, for healing, for a miraculous compassion in all our hearts. May we stretch ourselves and begin to see those of other races and ethnicities as precious in the sight of God. May our hearts break free of the baseless, often historic prejudices.

May today be the day.