A Lament for Another American Tragedy

Another black man was shot and killed by the police. This time it was in Charlotte, NC. The police recovered a handgun at the scene along with an ankle holster. The man was on medication and may not have responded properly to police commands. He was right handed but had something in his left hand which the police claimed was the gun. The investigation is underway. The man’s name is Keith Lamont Scott. He was not just another black man. He was a person. He was married. He had kids. And yes, he had a criminal record. I’ll let you read about the details in the paper.

The issue for me isn’t simply who's right and whose wrong here. That’s not the issue. The issue is that we have this incredible spate of police shootings of black men--regardless of who is right or wrong. The NT Times posted an editorial by an African American professor at Yale who wondered how long he’d live as a black man (can't find the editorial to post here). Just being a black male makes you a suspect these days. I’ve heard all the reasons why. And I think I can honestly say that in many cases, law enforcement is correct to shoot, regardless of a persons skin color. But not in every case!! There seems to be way too much of it these days. Some may say, “Well, if you limit police officers right to use deadly force, there will be fewer police officers going home for dinner after a shift.” That may actually be true. And that wouldn’t be right either.

Now some may say I’m moving towards a liberal view of justice. I don’t think so. I want to move towards God’s view of justice. The political and cultural right and left don’t dictate my views on things. I'm a Christian first, an American citizen second. 

Truthfully, I don’t know what the answer is. But the only thing we can do is what the scripture calls Lament. The Psalms are full of Lament’s where’s God’s people cry out to God for his seeming absence. Ruth Haley Barton, a spiritual formation author, recently noted this on her blog site in response to the some of the tragedies including the killing of police officers in Dallas during a peaceful protest. Here is what she said: 

"The prayer of lament is that unsettling biblical tradition of prayer that includes expressions of complaint, anger, grief, despair, and protest to God. Many of us have never been taught this way of praying and it is often missing in the worship of many congregations…. The prayer of lament is a place to begin as we seek to respond to the sin, the brokenness, and the complexity of our life together as human beings. It is tempting to rush to problem-solving and fixing when the situation is so dire, but I hope we won’t."

"Let us stop, at least for a moment, and lament together. Let us stand in solidarity with our black brothers and sisters who continue to experience such tragic loss; let us mourn with them the loss of another black male and affirm that black lives matter. Let us grieve for the law enforcement officers who lost their lives while trying to keep the peace. Let us acknowledge complexity, that we don’t have answers, and cry out to God together for the peace and justice that seems to elude us."

Psalm 13 is an example of a prayer if lament. I’ll include it in this post for your reflection. 

"How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me? Look on me and answer, O Lord my God. Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death; my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,” and my foes will rejoice when I fall. But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, for he has been good to me."

The Philly Marathon, Life, and Ministry

The long wait is over. After five years, I’ve returned to sub-three hour marathons, something that was, at one time, so predictable I didn’t even think about it. What a reality check! Injuries, age, and circumstance (heat, hills, and food poisoning to be specific) beat me to the finish line on more than one occasion. But on a cool day (it was 41 and partially cloudy at the start) on November 23, 2014 we did it. I mean “we” because Jan and some family friends, Dan and Mary Beth Wilkinson, were all part of it. The time 2:58:10 was better than I anticipated and sold me on the new training method I’ve been using. I’ll save an explanation of that for another post.

“Why would you do that?” people have asked. “I mean really?! Why go out and run like that or train like that? It seems a bit extreme.” I suppose it is extreme—like surfing in the winter is extreme and rock climbing is extreme, etc. But its more than just an addiction to extreme sports. To me, running marathons is like life. And to be specific, its like the Christian life. People in our culture don’t train for life, and consequently, we don’t stick it out when tough times come, etc. We give up on marriages, on relationships, on jobs, and other things way too easy. Dan captured some of my thinking on this in a coffee shop downtown the day before the race. Check it out.

It’s (not) better to be European

We had a tile guy come in to our house the other day. After 10 years, we were finally putting up our back splash in the kitchen. It was one of my sabbatical projects along with making sure we had a generator wired directly into our house so the next time Hurricane Sandy (or a black out or a brown out or anything else, for that matter) shuts out our electricity, we’ll be all set. At any rate, the tile guy comes and he’s named German. But he’s not German, he’s from South America.

 I said, “Wow, that’s an interesting name. German! Sounds very European.” To which he responded, “Well, yes but unfortunately, I’m not.” That took me back. Because the tone of voice, the way it was said, etc. all communicated, “I wish I was white and European. But I’m not white or European even though I have a white European name.” It bothered me. I asked about his ethnicity. He was from Ecuador. I said, “You have a wonderful culture.” He nodded, smiled, and agreed with me, then we talked about tile. I was going to lean into him a bit but it would have been inappropriate.

 Who knows exactly what it meant? But it took me back. What are the standards for beauty, privilege, and success, even in today’s American culture? White, blonde, blue eyed, and western? I am white. I’ve been white my whole life. I like white people. (I once said that in front of a white congregation in Maine and they thought it was a racist statement—from a white guy! Go figure.) But white isn’t right and the west isn’t always best. Caucasians have made a wonderful imprint on the culture of the world. Our culture, and the many varieties it contains, will be represented in heaven (Rev 7:9-11). But we have a lot to repent of as well. The same white skin that made so many wonderful scientific discoveries and gave us Bach and Mozart in the 18^th century also raped the Belgian Congo in the 19^th century (Read the book King Leupold’s Ghost for a nauseating study of that), and started a good chunk of World War II in the 20^th century.

 I believe each cultural group has wonderful redemptive gifts that it brings by divine design to the world community. But each cultural group as well, must come to grips with the reality that sin has tainted those gifts and they must come to grips with that, for true cultural healing to take place. Speaking about the Germans, consider my post on my trip to Berlin to see what cultural repentance may look like—even for a culture or government that’s not distinctly religious (See January 2012—Post entitled The Topography of Terror).

Athens Marathon

“Nike!” he yelled. He then dropped dead.

The legend of Phidippedes has it that after victory in the plains of Marathon, the said runner ran approximately 25 miles to Athens to announce the victory. His announcement was his last.

Last week (Nov 11) I ran the Athens marathon with several friends. There is a book on WW2 called The Longest Day. Its on the D-Day invasion of Europe. At the Athens marathon I ran into The Longest Hill. At the top, my legs died. They totally rebelled and said, “Uh, you are not doing this to us any longer.” The legs gave way at mile 20—something unusual for me. But the experience was great. I’d do it again. I got food poisoning before the trip to Europe. Ate at the wrong place at Kennedy Airport!

I fell in love with the Greeks. I think I’ll adopt the Greek family I stayed with as my own. They were wonderful. 

(I write these posts then forget or just fail to put them up so I'm doing it all on one day)

King Leopold's Ghost--A Review

I just finished reading the penetrating story of the material rape of the Belgian Congo in a book called King Leopold’s Ghost. It’s the history of how the greed of one charming man devastated a good portion of the African continent at the turn of the 20th century. Belgium’s King Leopold II bought into the colonizing whirlwind of the day, destroying African societies and killing millions of people in the process. He did this all for the sake of money, power, and colonial prestige. Sadly, he also did so in the name of philanthropy, Christianity and civilization. Pocketing millions of dollars, he built monuments to himself and his country on the backs of the native Congolese population. When they resisted, their spears and shields were no match for the sophisticated machine guns and weaponry of “civilized” Europe. Through forced slavery and despicable acts of injustice, Leopold, who never set foot in the Congo, forever changed central Africa.

It was through the primary intervention of one man, E.D. Morel, that the truth of Leopold’s activities were exposed. Morel, probably not a Christian, uncovered and publicized the atrocities that eventually led to the end of Leopold’s rule over the Congo. Morel had, as the author notes, both the media savvy and personal ability to publicize his message in a way that people came to acknowledge Leopold’s Congo for what it was—a form of tyranny and slavery.

The book has been a challenge to me on a number of fronts: Would I have had Morel’s courage to uncover the evil even if it cost me? Are there social injustices happening around me, which my eyes, being culturally conditioned as they are, do not see? Am I showing the kind of mercy that demonstrates that I’ve indeed become an object of God’s mercy because of the cross (cf. Matt 5:7)? Do I experience “mercy fatigue” because my response to the many opportunities to give or show mercy is rooted not in the grace of God but in my own moralistic tendencies?

Many of those who helped Morel expose Leopold’s Congo for what it was were missionaries who applied the gospel of grace to their lives and the situations around them. This book has made me think, once again, about how easy it is to be a follower of Jesus and yet not apply the gospel. Even some of the missionaries, it seems, had a subtle condescending attitude towards the African population. Read the book! It will make you think.

What Sean Bell Tells us about Race Relations

Sean Bell has been dead for a while now. But he’s still talking. It’s been a few weeks more than two years since Sean Bell, a black man, was killed outside a strip club early in the morning on his wedding day, November 26, 2006. He died under a hail storm of bullets when a police sting went bad. Two of the three officers involved were minorities. One officer, a minority, fired 50 shots from his service revolver. The officers felt their lives were threatened and had understood one of the suspects to have a gun. There was no gun. There was no crime being committed. There was just one big bad mistake.

Last May a judge handed down a verdict of not guilty for any of the police officers on any charges. I was a little surprised at the time, as it seemed that manslaughter, at least, would have been something they’d be charged with but it was not guilty. The black community was outraged per usual. In all of this there seems to me to be several challenges as we consider race relations and our human condition. First, people want justice. And justice sometimes doesn’t seem to be just. What is just for one person seems unjust for another. Would it have been just to put the police officers in jail? Second, it seems that we all need to believe the best about others a little more. The police officers heard one of Bell’s friends say he had a gun in his car. These friends were formerly convicted felons and they were all outside a strip club at 4:00 am. We can’t bring Sean Bell back but maybe whites and blacks alike need to believe the best in each other a little more. I have some terrific African American friends. I believe the best of them not because they are black or white but because they are human, created in the image of Almighty God, and have demonstrated that they are trustworthy. I could give you the names of some white people I wouldn’t trust for a minute. It’s not a white or black thing! It’s a people thing. Third, I think we need to spend time getting intentionally involved in the lives of those who are different than we are. How many of us actually go to someone’s home and eat if they are of a different race or different religion than we are? It’s rare, even in New York.

Each racial community brings special reminders of God that should be mixed into the soup of life. The relational meal smells really really good when a variety of racial spice is added! I think we all need to recognize the contribution each ethnic community brings and celebrate it. We also need to be aware of the negative tendencies of our own racial community. If we started dealing with the junk our own racial groups contributes to the trash of life perhaps we’d be less likely to be critical of others.