Is truth the most important thing? Or - Why are Christians so mean?

It seems to me that there is an increased meanness in the way many Christians talk to people. They usually justify it by saying they are speaking the truth, as if that makes the unkind and hurtful words any less unacceptable.  Of course, the implication is that the most important thing in Christianity is truth.  Don't get me wrong; I'm a big truth guy. I've devoted huge amounts of my time and treasure to being a faithful steward of the Bible. I love God's word and deeply desire to get it right.  It is, in fact, because of that passion and study that I must say truth is not the most important thing in Christianity.  Hold the torches and pitchforks for a minute.  Jesus actually addressed this issue. 

All three of the synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke) record a story in which a religious leader asks Jesus, What is the most important commandment?  Jesus answers that you must love God with your whole being.  Each writer has a slightly different list of things that go into the whole being. They include heart, soul, mind, and strength.  He then goes on to say that the second commandment is that we must love our neighbor as ourselves, except Luke, who just rolls neighbor in with loving God. Matthew adds that all our religion must be based on (hang on) these two commandments, and Luke records a religious leader trying to wriggle out of the commands by asking Jesus to define neighbor. (It didn't turn out well for the religious leader because Jesus basically said, whoever God puts in front of you is your neighbor)

So there you have it. Jesus tells us that the one thing we cannot compromise is not truth, but love.  Wow, that's a game-changer.

So why, then, do so many Christians still forsake the Fruit of the Spirit and use truth like a weapon to beat and bloody those with whom they disagree?  I think a lot of it comes back to a misunderstanding about some verses in Ephesians.  

In the fourth chapter of Ephesians, beginning in verse 14, the author begins discussing the business of not being spiritual infants who are tossed about by every spiritual thing that comes along.  Verse 15 says,  "Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ" (NIV) When I bring up this verse to folks who use truth to wound others, they seem to think that the text is saying Love justifies hurting people with the truth. I think they take it to mean that it is better to create some pain for people rather than let them die.  They aren't wrong, and modern medicine does this very thing. Surgery is a violent and ultimately painful act, but it also saves countless lives, including mine.  However, they are wrong about the meaning of the verse. 

Far too many people frame the question of love and truth as if love and truth are in competition and must be balanced.  This is the idea that you can hurt them with the truth because you love them and don't want something terrible to happen to them. 

What the text really says is that Love is the controlling principle for how we speak the truth. If you can't do it in a loving way, then don't speak it. Love means relationships. If you don't have enough relationship with the person to whom you are "speaking the truth" so that they would receive it as coming from love, then don't speak. Jesus is the best example.  He spoke the truth, and sinners loved him. He was even accused of being a friend of sinners. 

Conviction of sin is the Holy Spirit's job. Loving people is our job, and Jesus said love is the single most important thing, the thing that supersedes all others. So, if you must choose between love and speaking the truth, choose love. Many Christians today speak the truth in such a way that it drives people away from Christ. If you do it in love, it will draw them to him. That is the example of Jesus. 

Oh yeah, the only people who were offended by the truth Jesus taught were the religious leaders.  The ones who emphasized truth (law) over love.   -

Symbolism, Substance and George Floyd. - Reflecting on a time when I lived in a different place. (Published June 2020)

The murder of George Floyd has impacted me at a deep level. Until a couple of days ago, I hadn’t posted on social media. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I’m not against posting about issues of race; I’ve done it many times, and I think it’s important to clarify our position. Yet, posting to social media has an inherent danger. The danger is that one might feel like they have accomplished something simply by making a post denouncing the killing. One might even think they have made a difference. Let’s be honest: posting on social media that you are against killing black people is hardly courageous. It certainly does nothing to change the world. Again, I’m for it, not against it, but my life experience impacts my perception.

Today, I live in a white suburb of Seattle, but more than a decade ago, I lived inside the city limits of Kansas City, Missouri. In that community, the racial mix was very different. White people were the minority. As a kid, I grew up in an almost entirely white community, so life in Kansas City was a rather sharp learning curve. This was especially true on matters of race. I learned many important and often difficult lessons during that time, maybe the most important being that a white guy doesn’t have a clue about the experience of the black man in America. The stories my parishioners told often horrified me, and some made me sick to my stomach, like the African American man in my church who watched his father beaten to death by a group of white men. To this day, I remain amazed at that man’s desire to worship in an intercultural church with a white pastor.

As I’ve watched a long stream of Facebook posts about George Floyd’s murder, I’ve been reflecting on the things I learned during my pastorate in Kansas City. One of the times I learned the most was briefly serving on a clergy committee working toward racial reconciliation. I was the only white person in the group. They lovingly called me the token white guy. I wore the title with pride.

At that time, one of the more noble efforts by the white church was the public apology. White religious leaders would bring in a Black pastor and apologize for the way white people had treated black people. Sometimes, they would wash their feet and preach unity in Christ. For me, the symbolism was powerful. The first time I saw it, I wept. I could not help but think of my friends who had experienced so much ugliness at the hands of white people. I was very proud of my denominational leaders for taking these courageous steps. I was persuaded we were making real progress until one fateful day, sitting with my black pastor brothers on that committee.

Somehow, the topic of these public apologies came up. Sitting next to me was a black pastor who I particularly enjoyed. He is a mountain of a man who smiled easily, laughed loudly, and had a great sense of humor that made all of us laugh. However, when the topic of public apologies came up, his mood changed. He said I’m tired of being apologized to. I’ve been apologized to 1000 times and had my feet washed more times than I can count. Every time it happens, all the white people feel better about race relations, but nothing ever changes. It’s the same old discrimination and prejudice that has been around forever. I won’t do another public apology or let my feet be washed again! We don’t need any more apologies and certainly don’t need our feet washed. What we need are some white folks to do something. We don’t need any more symbolism. We need substance.

I left that meeting changed. I realized that symbolism was easy. It rarely costs very much other than the disapproval of some folks who themselves struggle with racism. What was needed was substance, doing something that made a difference. Of course, doing something is much more challenging, and I don’t mean marching in a protest. Protests are fine, but at the end of the day, they are still symbolism. We’ve had symbolism over substance for decades, and still, George Floyd was brutally murdered. Don’t misunderstand. Symbolism is an important weapon in the fight against injustice and racism. But its usefulness has dramatically diminished over the decades. The truth is we need to do something that creates real change. The hard question is, what does that look like in my very white suburban neighborhood? Frankly, I don’t have the answers, and neither do most white folks. Still, I have some thoughts, maybe even suggestions for my white brothers and sisters from another white guy who had to learn the hard way. Perhaps I can save you some pain.

1. Listen and believe. Accept that you don’t know about discrimination and injustice based on skin color. Far too often, I hear white people dismiss what black people say about race. Most importantly, if a person of color honors you with their story of racial pain, listen and believe.

2. Vote race. Today, if a politician has all-white advisors or is insensitive to issues of race, something is very wrong.

3. Leverage your resources to make a difference. Maybe that looks like giving money to the right organizations. Maybe this looks like hiring a person of color. Maybe it looks like helping communities of color that are often caught in poverty. I don’t mean just send money for a soup kitchen. What about actually doing things like tutoring kids or mentoring young entrepreneurs? Plus, you’ll love the relationships this builds.

4. Foster real friendships with people of color.

On another day, with that same gathering of pastors, one challenged me “When was the last time you had a person of color in your home for friendship and fellowship?” That was an excellent question in a community with more black people than white. Fortunately for me, my life group included black people, and they met at our house, but that pastor’s question still haunts me today.

Please don’t misunderstand; I don’t think posting on Facebook is bad or public protests are wrong. I’m for those things, but at the end of the day, they mainly make us feel better without changing anything. As I’ve watched all the posts go by, I think I felt what my black pastor friend felt for the first time. I’m tired of symbolism. I’m tired of eloquent but empty declarations of solidarity. We need substance personal action on my part to improve things. The problem is not the cops. The vast majority of Cops are great people who went into law enforcement to make the world a better place. They, too, have been horrified by what they saw on TV. The problem is us, all of us.

Maybe the most important thing I learned in Kansas City was that the best cure for racism is building strong friendships with people of color. Jesus called it loving your neighbor like yourself, or as I tell my church, loving the people around you like family. Change the world one relationship at a time. Maybe in my community, the substance doesn’t look like marching in the streets but inviting people into my home to share a meal, share life, and truly listen to their stories. I know that when you love people of color like family and see what we saw last week, it will drive you to take action.

There is no longer Jew or Gentile, slave or free, male and female. For you are all one in Christ Jesus. #galations328

Greater love has no one than this, that they lay down their life for their friend. #john1513

#georgefloyd

Why I Say "Black Lives Matter" (And "Blue Lives Matter") - Published June 2020

 (This Post was originally made in July 2020) Recently, I attended a March for Peace in my community.  It was a glorious and huge event headed by an extraordinary black leader in our community who collaborated with city leaders to bring us together around an important issue. Even more impressive is that it was started and, in no small part, led by a group of students.  Like most of these events, it was peaceful and barely made the news.  The mayor spoke, and the Police chiefs from our city and the Tulalip tribe across the freeway spoke.  Several black leaders spoke, and several bright teenagers spoke.  Tribal leaders spoke, and the Tulalip tribe provided music during the closing ceremony. During the march, we often chanted, and many were carrying signs with messages that spoke truth into our troubled world.  Probably the most common chant was Black Lives Matter. 

 Since the march, I’ve received feedback from people concerned about that slogan. In listening to their concerns, I think I’ve decided that many people, especially white people, misunderstand what those words mean.  I don’t mean they don’t understand the individual terms but don’t understand what they mean in context.  Communication happens in context, so as a white guy who had to go through a sharp learning curve about the black experience, let me see if I can help with this important slogan.

 To my white, evangelical brothers and sisters, what if I were to say to you unborn lives matter?  I very much doubt that you would respond with, all lives matter.  I believe the reason you wouldn’t react with all lives matter is that you recognize that unborn lives are in unique danger in a way that other lives are not.  To say unborn lives matter is not to say that other lives don’t matter.  In fact, as a pro-life person, I believe every single life matters to God, and to take a life is a sin.  Still, as a leader, I must find ways to articulate that unborn lives need special attention and protection because they are under unique persecution that most lives are not.  I think I’m going to start by saying unborn lives matter.  #unbornlivesmatter

 

I’m also going to continue to say black lives matter and blue lives matter (Police) because I think both of those groups are also in unique danger and under particular threat. I’m probably not going to go around saying white middle-class male lives matter.  Not because they don’t matter, but let’s be frank, I’m in very little danger of being killed by someone else, and certainly not because of my skin color or the uniform I wear. 

 On another note, you probably won’t hear me say all lives matter.  Again, not because I think some lives don’t matter but because those words miss the point and can sound like I don’t care about those who are under unique persecution. 

 Let’s try a thought experiment.  Imagine your spouse comes to you, wraps their arms around you, gives you a big hug and kiss, and with a warm smile, says do you love me?  What do you think happens if you reply, I love everybody?  While I hope it is true that you love everybody, if you reply I love everybody to your spouse, well, let’s just say you missed the point by about a mile.  You made a colossal mistake in understanding what your spouse was trying to communicate.  Imagine if you publicly declared your love for your spouse and someone said that you shouldn’t say that. You should say I love everybody.  We say things about particular people and situations not because they might not have a larger application but because of something unique about the person or situation. 

 Black lives, Blue lives, and unborn lives matter as all lives matter, but we need to focus our attention on honoring and protecting these groups because they are uniquely in danger.  As a society and certainly as followers of Jesus, we need to spotlight the problem.  Jesus was clear: how the powerful treat those with less power matters greatly to Him, so it must matter to us.  Maybe it’s time we evangelicals stepped up, and in addition to proclaiming that unborn lives matter, we add blue lives matter and black lives matter.

 By the way, your life matters too.

 #unbornlivesmatter #bluelivesmatter #blacklivesmatter

 

A DEEPER REFLECTION ON THE REMOVAL OF MY PORT.

Recently my care team told me that my treatment went so well and that I continued to do so well that they think I’m going to be okay. Because of this, they authorized the removal of my double port. Yesterday morning they made good on their word and took it out! It was a quick procedure. Because I needed to drive myself home, they used a local anesthetic instead of a mild (but debilitating) general anesthetic. This allowed me to be awake for the procedure. It was a very simple thing. Make an incision, pull out the tubes and sew me back up. All done, have a nice day.

You may remember that after the completion of my cancer treatment in February of 2020, I was hoping to have the port removed, but they told me that because my type of cancer comes back at very high rates, they wanted to leave it in. Since then, I’ve carried it around in my body as a constant reminder that the shadow of cancer follows me. Jodi and I have called it my “thorn in the flesh” as an unwelcome reminder from Satan of one of the most difficult times in my life.

Because my cancer was so rare, the chemo treatment I received was over 30 years old. It was the old fashion kind that makes you extremely sick. I remember them going through a long list of things that could go wrong before we started. It included death and irreversible brain damage. It was so caustic that they had to deliver the two chemicals to the vein just before the heart, where the most blood flows. Anywhere else, and the chemicals would burn me internally. One time the seal around one of the tubes came loose, causing the chemo to get on me, my bed, and the floor. I learned then that the chemicals are so nasty that a spill is categorized as toxic waste with all the accompanying procedures. I was quick to get the chemicals off my skin, but even in that short time, it burned my hand a little. The whole thing is so bad that each of my chemo treatments meant a weeklong stay in the hospital while they administered it. I suspect they do this, so they don’t kill you.

After each of my first couple of treatments, I underwent the initiation right for people who have strong chemo. I spent a portion of the night on the floor of the bathroom naked, projectile vomiting and other things we won’t go into. There is undoubtedly a fraternity born of suffering among those who have had cancer. You can see why I was anxious to rid myself of the port that was a constant reminder of some very dark days.

I know this is only a symbolic victory but sometimes symbols matter. Every day as I showered, I ran my hand over the port, a constant reminder that I had nearly died. I’m happy to have the reminder removed. However, I never want to forget what God has done for me.

I don’t understand why God chooses to work healing in one person and not another. It certainly has nothing to do with worthiness. Yet I am profoundly grateful that God has done this work in my life. When my supervisor, Jerry Kester, anointed me with oil and prayed for me during the 2019 District Assembly, he said something that has stuck with me. He told the Lord that if he would extend my life, I would use the time to serve him. Those words have become a bit of a life motto. It sounds cliché, but after a significant brush with death, I take every day as a gift from God, mindful that I could have, maybe even should have, had a very different outcome. Every day seems to me to be “bonus” life, and it is my great honor to use that bonus life to serve my King.

I don’t know how long I have, but I hope it’s a long time, and I’m doing great physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I love life. I love my family, especially my grandkids, my friends, my team, and my church. I love being a servant of the most high God. I know that every healing is temporary. The scriptures tell us that there is a sickness that leads to death, and someday it will be my turn. Until then, I plan on Loving God with my whole being, loving the people around me like family, and building my religion and my life on those two most important commands. Anything else seems like a waste of my bonus time

Remember... from July 13, 2014

NOTE - I wrote most of this post several years back as my mother's life was coming to a close.  Today she is with Jesus and no longer suffers and remembers everything.  

My mother is sinking into the black hole of forgetfulness.   For some time now she has had a form of dementia/Alzheimer's/whatever.  She can no longer remember her husband of nearly 50 years, her daughter who passed away recently, her siblings, or even that I am her son.  Most of the time, she thinks I'm her brother and sometimes her husband. 

In her day my mother was one of those bright lights that showed the way for others.  In a time when most women stayed at home, she earned a college degree and had a professional career. She often hid her diploma because people gave her a hard time because she was a college-educated woman. During her career, she racked up an impressive list of accomplishments.  She was a leader during most of her career and an example all of her life.  She was by any standard an extremely strong and accomplished woman.  Sadly that well-lived life of significance has been stripped away simply because she can no longer remember. 

As I have watched her sink into the darkness  I have become painfully aware that what my mom has lost is herself.  Turns out remembering is how we know who we are. After a lifetime of dedicated service to others she suddenly feels worthless, disconnected, and without purpose. She can no longer remember all the good she did for so many people and how very many love her and appreciate the investment she made in their lives. She spent a lifetime building the memories that should bring her, comfort, joy, and deep relationship with others at this final stage of life.  Instead, she is engulfed in a black hole, cut off from the memories that made her who she is or maybe was. 

In those painful moments when she is lucid enough to understand that she can't remember anything I find myself saying to her... It's alright mom, I'll remember for you.   - It's hard. 

My mom's journey into forgetting has given me new insight into Jesus' words at the Last Supper.   During this important meal, Jesus said something that I used to think of as a throwaway line but now I understand to be the truth that ties it all together... every time you do this, remember me.  (Craig Laughlin version) At the very heart of Christianity is the business of remembering.  Remembering what God has done for us, remembering how much He loves us, remembering who we are in him.  When we forget those things, we lose our true identity as surely as dementia stripped my mother of her identity.  

What Jesus knew, which I think we forget, is that our memory is what makes us who we are.  You and I are the sum of the things we have done in life, both good and bad.  Each thing has formed us in some way.  Remembering those experiences and what we learned from them is what makes us who we are today.  

Just like remembering is crucial to who we are as a person remembering what God has done for us is critical to understanding who we are spiritually.  Strangely, this includes remembering the bad things.  When I come to the Lord's table I am painfully reminded of my own sins and shortcomings.  I remember the pain those sins created in my life and far too often the lives of people who I love and love me. I remember that I don't' ever want to go back to that place.  Most of all I remember that God in Christ gave me forgiveness, repentance, reconciliation, and welcomed me into his family with open arms.  I also remember how grateful I am for Jesus. Interestingly, one of the names for communion is Eucharist, which means thanksgiving. 

Communion reminds me of how God's story invaded and transformed my story.  Truth is, without God's work in my life I would be a very different person. When I look over my life and I see all the times God corrected or redirected me, I can't help but be thankful for his guidance protection over me.  Without his intervention, I would be a disaster. 

Another thing I remember is that because of God's work in Jesus I have been able to embrace my true identity.  Verse 26 of the very first chapter in the bible contains these important words

26 Then God said, “Let us make humanity in our image, in our likeness...

This is in many ways the most amazing verse in the Bible.  God created humanity in his image and likeness.  At our core, we are family with God.  We share his DNA. Yes, many are alienated from the family, believing themselves to be orphans in a vast universe of nothingness, but God begs to differ.  We are created intentionally to be daughters and sons of the living God. Now that is worth remembering! 

When Jesus told us "do this remembering me" he wasn't talking about a casual memory that pops up or trying to rack our brain for a forgotten password.  He was talking about actively, intentionally calling to mind all that He has done for us, where we would be without him, and whose we are.  This is why we celebrate the Lord's Table on a regular basis in worship. It is the church's way of prodding you to actively remember who you are and give thanks!  For if we dare forget, we will find ourselves with Spiritual Dementia. Remember. 

Are We Becoming Worldly?

I think I'm getting cranky in my old age.  I hope I'm not on my way to becoming the crotchety old man who bites everyone's head off, but I have to admit I'm increasingly tempted.  What bugs me are the arguments going on that involve Christ Followers. 

It's not the arguing itself that bothers me. I think arguments are healthy and refreshingly honest. It's not that arguments are happening in the stark naked atmosphere that is social media. If you don't have anything to hide, transparency is good... and we shouldn't have anything to hide. I'm not even sure the positions people stake out bother me.  How do you learn except for a conversation among people of opposing views? Truth is, I like to argue. I've been known to argue just for the sake of arguing. What bugs me and I mean really bugs me is how people treat each other when they disagree.

In recent years I've noticed an uptick in Christ Followers launching personal attacks against people with whom they disagree. Rather than questioning the rationale or evidence, there has been name-calling, mockery, sarcasm, and a  general belittling of people made in the image of God. There is a small part of me that wants to laugh at people who do this.  Attacking a person rather than their argument is irrational, a huge logical flaw, and probably deflection.  So frankly, personal attacks make the person doing them look bad.  Honestly, it makes it look like you don't know what you are talking about and that you don't have a cogent argument to counter your opponent's argument. If it were just about rational rhetoric I think I would laugh, but there is a deeper, spiritual problem that is not at all funny.

Among the most radical teachings of Jesus are his words about how we should treat our enemies.  For a Christ-follower the test of character is not how we treat our family and friends but how we treat the people we would like to treat badly.  This list includes our enemies, those that harm us, those that oppose us and get in the way. These irritating folks are the true test of our Christ-likeness.

Jesus was very straight forward about it in the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew's Gospel he says: 

Matthew 5:38-45

38 “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.’39 But I say to you, do not resist an evil person; but whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other to him also. 40 If anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, let him have your coat also.  41 Whoever forces you to go one mile, go with him two. 42 Give to him who asks of you, and do not turn away from him who wants to borrow from you.43 “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ 44 But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, 45 so that you may be sons (and daughters) of your Father who is in heaven;

Interesting that Jesus ties this behavior to our daughter and sonship with our heavenly father... does that give anyone else pause besides me? 

The Apostle Paul, decades later writing to the church in Rome, felt the need to flesh it out, probably because folks were having trouble with it. 

Romans 12:14-21

14 Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. 15 Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep. 16 Be of the same mind toward one another; do not be haughty in mind, but associate with the lowly. Do not be wise in your own estimation. 17 Never pay back evil for evil to anyone.  Respect what is right in the sight of all men. 18 If possible, so far as it depends on you, be at peace with all men. 19 Never take your own revenge, beloved, but leave room for the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is Mine, I will repay,” says the Lord. 20 “But if your enemy is hungry, feed him, and if he is thirsty, give him a drink; for in so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.” 21 Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

Here is the bottom line for me...  We have become worldly.  

Worldly is when Christ-followers adopt practices from the "world" (culture) around them that are not compatible with the values of God.  In the past, people used this word to justify all kinds of silly rules like not going to movies or not wearing makeup.  My generation rightly rejected that understanding of worldly but I'm concerned that we may have thrown the baby out with the bathwater. The threat of worldliness is real, it's just not about movies and makeup. It seems to me that we have become extraordinarily worldly in how we talk to and treat people with whom we disagree. 

No place is this more evident than when we talk about politics.  It seems many Christ Followers, even famous ones, don't believe the Bible's instructions about how we treat our enemies applies to politics.  My problem is this, I've read the Bible from cover to cover many times, and I've given over a huge portion of my time and treasure to rightly understanding God's word and Word. With all that, I still don't see any place in the Bible that carves out an exception for politicians or people who hold a different political viewpoint from us. Truth is, it's simply not there. Don't misunderstand me, I don't have a problem discussing the facts and debating the right direction our country should go.  It's the personal attacks, mockery, belittling, and demeaning that crosses the line into sin.

This much I know for sure. While God may or may not take a position on the issue you or I are arguing about, He for sure takes a position about how we talk to, and about, the other person. Bottom line, when we adopt worldly ways of treating and talking about people we are sinning.  Yep, I used that word.  It's not just bad form, illogical, or even funny.  It's sin and that always breaks God's heart.  It also destroys our witness in the world by alienating the very people Jesus told us to reach through exhibiting His Love.  He told us they would recognize us as God's children by our love. Far too often when I hear Christians talk or I read their post on Social Media my heart breaks but more than that I worry about their eternal soul. What if the Bible isn't kidding and verbally attacking, mocking, and belittling people, even politicians and people from the other political party,  really is a sin?  

Symbolism, Substance and George Floyd. - Reflecting on a time when I lived in a different place. (June 3, 2020)

The murder of George Floyd has impacted me at a deep level. Until a couple of days ago, I hadn’t posted on social media. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I’m not against posting about issues of race; I’ve done it many times, and I think it’s important to clarify our position. Yet, posting to social media has an inherent danger. The danger is that one might feel like they have accomplished something simply by making a post denouncing the killing. One might even think they have made a difference. Let’s be honest: posting on social media that you are against killing black people is hardly courageous. It certainly does nothing to change the world. Again, I’m for it, not against it, but my life experience impacts my perception.

Today, I live in a white suburb of Seattle, but more than a decade ago, I lived inside the city limits of Kansas City, Missouri. In that community, the racial mix was very different. White people were the minority. As a kid, I grew up in an almost entirely white community, so life in Kansas City was a rather sharp learning curve. This was especially true on matters of race. I learned many important and often difficult lessons during that time, maybe the most important being that a white guy doesn’t have a clue about the experience of the black man in America. The stories my parishioners told often horrified me, and some made me sick to my stomach, like the African American man in my church who watched his father beaten to death by a group of white men. To this day, I remain amazed at that man’s desire to worship in an intercultural church with a white pastor.

As I’ve watched a long stream of Facebook posts about George Floyd’s murder, I’ve been reflecting on the things I learned during my pastorate in Kansas City. One of the times I learned the most was briefly serving on a clergy committee working toward racial reconciliation. I was the only white person in the group. They lovingly called me the token white guy. I wore the title with pride.

At that time, one of the more noble efforts by the white church was the public apology. White religious leaders would bring in a Black pastor and apologize for the way white people had treated black people. Sometimes, they would wash their feet and preach unity in Christ. For me, the symbolism was powerful. The first time I saw it, I wept. I could not help but think of my friends who had experienced so much ugliness at the hands of white people. I was very proud of my denominational leaders for taking these courageous steps. I was persuaded we were making real progress until one fateful day, sitting with my black pastor brothers on that committee.

Somehow, the topic of these public apologies came up. Sitting next to me was a black pastor who I particularly enjoyed. He is a mountain of a man who smiled easily, laughed loudly, and had a great sense of humor that made all of us laugh. However, when the topic of public apologies came up, his mood changed. He said I’m tired of being apologized to. I’ve been apologized to 1000 times and had my feet washed more times than I can count. Every time it happens, all the white people feel better about race relations, but nothing ever changes. It’s the same old discrimination and prejudice that has been around forever. I won’t do another public apology or let my feet be washed again! We don’t need any more apologies and certainly don’t need our feet washed. What we need are some white folks to do something. We don’t need any more symbolism. We need substance.

I left that meeting changed. I realized that symbolism was easy. It rarely costs very much other than the disapproval of some folks who themselves struggle with racism. What was needed was substance, doing something that made a difference. Of course, doing something is much more challenging, and I don’t mean marching in a protest. Protests are fine, but at the end of the day, they are still symbolism. We’ve had symbolism over substance for decades, and still, George Floyd was brutally murdered. Don’t misunderstand. Symbolism is an important weapon in the fight against injustice and racism. But its usefulness has dramatically diminished over the decades. The truth is we need to do something that creates real change. The hard question is, what does that look like in my very white suburban neighborhood? Frankly, I don’t have the answers, and neither do most white folks. Still, I have some thoughts, maybe even suggestions for my white brothers and sisters from another white guy who had to learn the hard way. Perhaps I can save you some pain.

1. Listen and believe. Accept that you don’t know about discrimination and injustice based on skin color. Far too often, I hear white people dismiss what black people say about race. Most importantly, if a person of color honors you with their story of racial pain, listen and believe.

2. Vote race. Today, if a politician has all-white advisors or is insensitive to issues of race, something is very wrong.

3. Leverage your resources to make a difference. Maybe that looks like giving money to the right organizations. Maybe this looks like hiring a person of color. Maybe it looks like helping communities of color that are often caught in poverty. I don’t mean just send money for a soup kitchen. What about actually doing things like tutoring kids or mentoring young entrepreneurs? Plus, you’ll love the relationships this builds.

4. Foster real friendships with people of color.

On another day, with that same gathering of pastors, one challenged me “When was the last time you had a person of color in your home for friendship and fellowship?” That was an excellent question in a community with more black people than white. Fortunately for me, my life group included black people, and they met at our house, but that pastor’s question still haunts me today.

Please don’t misunderstand; I don’t think posting on Facebook is bad or public protests are wrong. I’m for those things, but at the end of the day, they mainly make us feel better without changing anything. As I’ve watched all the posts go by, I think I felt what my black pastor friend felt for the first time. I’m tired of symbolism. I’m tired of eloquent but empty declarations of solidarity. We need substance personal action on my part to improve things. The problem is not the cops. The vast majority of Cops are great people who went into law enforcement to make the world a better place. They, too, have been horrified by what they saw on TV. The problem is us, all of us.

Maybe the most important thing I learned in Kansas City was that the best cure for racism is building strong friendships with people of color. Jesus called it loving your neighbor like yourself, or as I tell my church, loving the people around you like family. Change the world one relationship at a time. Maybe in my community, the substance doesn’t look like marching in the streets but inviting people into my home to share a meal, share life, and truly listen to their stories. I know that when you love people of color like family and see what we saw last week, it will drive you to take action.

There is no longer Jew or Gentile, slave or free, male and female. For you are all one in Christ Jesus. #galations328

Greater love has no one than this, that they lay down their life for their friend. #john1513

#georgefloyd