Tag: racism

Puzzles and Racism

Raise your hand if you’ve tried a puzzle (or two) during Covid.

Me? I looked long and hard to find a puzzle with a picture I really liked – one I thought would be challenging (1,000 pieces), but have enough color differentiation that it wouldn’t drive me crazy.

Boy did I choose wrong! Can you SEE all the white and shades of gray???

Here’s the thing I know about myself. I’m a 7 on the Enneagram so I love EVERYTHING, but I’m not good at persevering and doing hard work on ONE THING over a long time.

Bottom line? This puzzle turned out to be a spiritual practice for me. It took me forever (honestly probably a month), and every day I wanted to give up, but I kept going – one more day, one more day. Note: I did not receive any help from John and for that I trust he’ll pay at the judgment day.

I prayed the discipline required to complete this project would translate into other hard areas of my life where I’m tempted to quit or take short cuts.

That’s why I’m sharing this with you. The challenges before us – fighting racism, changing unjust systems, rebuilding broken lives – are going to take hard work and dedication for the long-haul.

There will be many days when we can’t see progress.

Days when the pieces don’t seem to fit.

Days when it seems way too hard.

Days when we need to remind ourselves that our brothers and sisters of color have been suffering and carrying this injustice for hundreds of years!

The pieces of my puzzle, with little to indicate the picture it would become, sat on our dining room table mocking me. I wanted to ignore it, but right next to the messy pieces, was the box with the image of what I was working towards.

What’s the picture we’re working to create with God’s help?

It’s a picture of His kingdom on earth, one that won’t be complete until Jesus comes again to wipe away every tear and bring a new order (Rev. 21).

But until then, we’re turning to Him to strengthen and guide us to start piecing together a picture of the kingdom where we honor God’s image in everyone.

It’s a picture where love and justice reign.

Where racism isn’t tolerated.

Where the needy are seen and cared for.

Where people listen to each other with humility and respect.

With my puzzle, on the hardest days, just getting one or two pieces were enough to keep me coming back.

  • Maybe the puzzle piece we find today is listening to the experience of someone who looks different from us, or reading up on white privilege or joining a webinar on anti-racism.
  • Maybe today is the day we repent of abdicating responsibility and tacitly supporting racist systems.
  • Maybe it’s signing a petition, or advocating – writing to a government official.
  • Maybe it’s donating goods to a food pantry, or cleaning our streets in the aftermath of riots.
  • Maybe it’s a peaceful protest or fervent prayer.

Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done.

These are the very days for the prophetic resistance of our joy and hope, for the practice of the Kingdom of God right in the snarl of the ‘Not Yet.’”

Sarah bessey

For Such a Time as This?

Those of you who know me, know that I’m a celebration and confetti type of person.

My husband says my life is made up of exclamation marks. Joy is my default and I tend to run from pain and sadness like roadrunner from Wile E. Coyote.

Hello 2020.

I can’t possibly understand what people of color have, and are experiencing, but I, like all of us, need to listen, lament and respond. I have tried to do this over the years and need to keep learning and getting better at being anti-racist.

I’m sorry there was no artist attributed to this. If you know, please tell me.

Recently, with more injustice and racial discrimination coming to light, I have been re-reading the book of Esther – a book about the abuse of power and injustice.

I remember when our girls were in grade school, Tomie DiPaola was the author of the month and our daughter took this book to share, but was told she couldn’t because it was “religious”.

Ironically, it is the one book of the Bible where God isn’t mentioned, but like a picture window in the home of a toddler, His fingerprints are everywhere.

In case you need a (very) quick refresher...Vashti is queen, married to Xerxes. She refuses to come be put on display during one of Xerxes drunken orgies.

Xerxes banishes her and announces a beauty contest to look for new queen.

Esther lives with her uncle, Mordecai (both Jews), hides her Jewish identity, wins the contest and becomes queen.

Mordecai uncovers a plot to assassinate Xerxes and tells Esther who tells X, ingratiating herself, and Mordecai

Mordecai refuses to bow to Haman, Xerxes right-hand guy.

Haman, furious, gets X to let him make a decree that all Jews will be killed.

Mordecai laments, prays, and persuades Esther to intervene

Esther supported and challenged by Mordecai, advocates on behalf of her people and they are saved. Haman is impaled.

I’ve been looking at the different roles people were called to play (or didn’t).

  • Like Queen Vashti are we refusing to take part in systems that dehumanize? (Esther 1:10-12)
  • Are we King Xerxes, abdicating responsibility and turning a blind eye when Haman wants to kill the Jews? ( 3:10, 15)
  • Are we like Haman, concerned with protecting our power and dehumanizing others? (3:5,6)
  • Or Mordecai, telling truth, leading his people in appropriate response, and encouraging the voice of Esther? (4:7,8,12-14)
  • Are we, like the Jews, lamenting and praying? (4:1-3)
  • Or Esther, challenged to speak truth to power with wisdom and strategic timing? (7:3-4)

Again, I am just a learner, but here are some things I’ve been thinking about…

I do not, do NOT want to abdicate my responsibility to use my voice to speak out against racism and pursue new systems of justice, but I want to humbly listen, listen, listen to my brothers and sisters of color and learn from them, not plow forward as if I know anything.

I also think I need to look for places to be a Mordecai – lifting people of color who have credibility I don’t, to places of leadership and elevating their voices while I support them.

Another idea I’m thinking about is how God may want to use our unique gifts in unique ways as we respond. For example:

  • One of my gifts is the ability to connect people. How might I leverage that on behalf of the oppressed?
  • Another gift is hospitality. What does it look like to use that gift to champion God’s kingdom where His image is celebrated in all its diversity?

A couple of questions for you:

Is there someone in the story of Esther who you identify with or who convicts you?

What are your gifts and how might you be called to use them?

Post this at all the intersections, dear friends: Lead with your ears, follow up with your tongue, and let anger straggle along in the rear. God’s righteousness doesn’t grow from human anger. So throw all spoiled virtue and cancerous evil in the garbage.

In simple humility, let our gardener, God, landscape you with the Word, making a salvation-garden of your life.

Don’t fool yourself into thinking that you are a listener when you are anything but, letting the Word go in one ear and out the other. Act on what you hear! Those who hear and don’t act are like those who glance in the mirror, walk away, and two minutes later have no idea who they are, what they look like.

James 1:19-24 MSG

Soul Food for a Racially Divided World

Good news has not been 2020’s strong suit. In addition to Covid and job loss, civil wars, and a typhoon in India, we’ve had more racially motivated shootings.

I have heard racism defined as prejudice + misuse of power.

I am a racist. I have exhibited prejudice and have benefitted from the misuse of power in our systems.

I want to listen and learn from my brothers and sisters of other colors. I NEED to repent and join them in lament. Even in writing this I fear I’m going to use the wrong phrase, or further hurt or offend.

There is so much I don’t know. In this post I just want to pass along some resources and ideas that are guiding me, in the hope that some of you, like me, want to get better at loving our brothers and sisters who have a very different story than we do.

Ahmaud Arbery lost his life on February 23 during his run. Most of you are probably aware of the call to go for a run/walk for 2.23 miles in solidarity. I thought this additional suggestion from National Community Church was really helpful:

The run becomes powerful when we make it reflective.

  • Consider how Ahmaud felt on his run? His family afterwards?
  • Consider how communities of color are feeling now?
  • Consider your own feelings. Where can you be vulnerable? Who can you lean into?

I highly recommend this insightful conversation about racial reconciliation with Mike Kelsey on Annie F. Down’s podcast (the meat of it starts at the 20 minute mark)

Some books I’m reading that have been recommended by people of color:

White Awake

An honest look at what it means to be white

Love Anyway

Love Anyway is the story of Jeremy’s incredible journey seeing the worst of war–and an invitation to discover a more beautiful world on the front lines where you live.

God’s Very Good Idea

For kids!

Check it out! 1619 Project

Consider following some accounts on Instagram that may stretch you.

https://www.instagram.com/beabridgebuilder/
https://www.instagram.com/drop_the_stones/
https://www.instagram.com/preemptivelove/

Maybe this song of confession is an appropriate first step.

Frail and broken, blind to what You’ve spoken
This is my confession
I am guilty, complicit in the action
This is my confession

But You’ve accepted me, despite the things I’ve done 
You’ve acknowledged me, as righteous and beloved

My confession, Lord change me
My confession, Lord make me more like You

I am rude and heartless, speaking words that harm love
This is my confession
Proud and selfish, consumed with how I finish
This is my confession

But You’ve accepted me, despite the things I’ve done 
You’ve acknowledged me, as righteous and beloved

My confession, Lord change me
My confession, Lord make me more like You

Grow in me love and peace and a joy that won’t cease
Grow in me faith and kindness and goodness
Grow in me gentle speech, grow in me long-suffering 
And the courage to die to myself
This is my confession

My confession, Lord change me
My confession, Lord make me
My confession, Lord change me
My confession, Lord make me more like You

(c) 2020 NCC Music
– Written by Daesha Cummings, Joel Buckner, Josh Coad, Mark Alan Schoolmeesterss

I hope you’ll join me on this quest for deeper understanding and more authentic love. Feel free to add your own resource suggestions in the comments.

How do we Change the Story of Racism in America?

I vividly remember the day Martin Luther King Jr. was shot. April 4th, 1968.  Not because I was horrified. Because it interrupted my t.v. program.

My younger brothers and I were watching T.V. in the small den at the back of our suburban house when our program was interrupted by the news. We were ticked! What in the world could be more important than Bozo’s Circus? As we goofed around, loudly moaned and complained about Walter Cronkite, my mother stepped in front of the T.V. With tears running down her face. She spoke to the three of us who were shaken to see our mom so impassioned, her voice raised in anger.

“STOP IT! RIGHT NOW! A great man who has been courageously fighting for everyone in America to be treated with dignity has been shot! This is a terrible day for our country and we need to pay attention!”

I haven’t posted any thoughts on the recent events in Charlottesville, or the angry, divisive rhetoric in our country because frankly, anything I write seems too little, and in my mind, too obvious…too easy. After all, who am I, as a white, privileged American, to think I have  anything helpful to say??

My thought process goes, “Writing something on social media is empty courage. What will it accomplish? It will only be read by those who agree with me. And I can’t possibly have any tiny understanding of the situation.”

Talk is cheap, right?

But then I am reminded by my friend Todd, of the MLK quote, “In the end we will remember not the words of our enemies but the silence of our friends.”

Privilege means we have the freedom NOT to think about this if we don’t want to. But if we turn away,  we participate in the sin of indifference. Privilege when it comes to race, is unearned access and the freedom to ignore what is uncomfortable. I don’t want that to be me.

“The stories we own…we get to write the ending. We as a country need to own the story of white supremacy.” Brené Brown

In order to own this story, we need to start somewhere. Here are a few of my ideas. Please add your own in the comments!

  • Build relationships

This can be a challenge because most of us live in our homogenous bubbles. For John and I it has meant reaching out and building a relationship with a local Imam, Asad Zaman. Recently, when a mosque here in the twin cities was bombed, it was John who our friend reached out to be the voice of a peacemaker to Christians at a subsequent rally.

The question I keep asking myself is “Where can I be involved in a community with people different than me?”

  • Read up – here are a few resources that have been helpful to me.

The Sin of Indifference  – an article by Ruth Hayley Barton

Small Great Things – a novel by Jodi Picoult about an African American nurse and a white supremacist father whose child dies in her care. This book helped me better understand white privilege.

Just Mercy – I’m halfway through this book that is accurately described as “A powerful true story about the potential for mercy to redeem us, and a clarion call to fix our broken system of justice—from one of the most brilliant and influential lawyers of our time.”

  • Choose humility. Listen, and listen more to the oppressed. Listen longer than is comfortable.

 

  • Name it. Yes, there are situations that are a matter of perspective. There are times to agree to disagree, but when anyone, created in the image of God, is abused, is treated with anything less than the utmost respect, is the victim of injustice and hate, it must be named as evil. Unacceptable. Period.

“I want a white nationalist to feel uncomfortable in my church. I want him to feel like ”’Ooh, this is not a place where I can express white supremacy freely. Where I know it’s looked upon as sin and not looked upon as just a political difference.’” – LeCrae

  • Pray

Here’s a place to start.

“To clasp the hands in prayer is the beginning of an uprising against the disorder of the world.”

I know my understanding is woefully limited. I confess I have often avoided the uncomfortable conversations that are necessary for healing. I acknowledge I have benefitted from white privilege in many ways I’m sure I’m ignorant of. I ask forgiveness from my brothers and sisters of other races. I want to do better.

These are just a few of my thoughts. What would you add?

 

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