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
