The Good Samaritan, Revisted

The events happening in this world right now are just beyond.  Beyond heartbreaking, beyond imagining, beyond understanding.  I cannot.

We want to point fingers, to place blame.  Obviously.  There have been some tremendous wrongs that deserve righting.  In many cases, unfortunately, we are past that point.  So at least these situations deserve justice.  But honestly, what does that even mean in this broken society?  I’m at a loss and I know many of you echo this disillusionment.

I’m not good at many things, but I excel in this: Seeing multiple perspectives.  For whatever reason, God gifted me with the ability to see more than one side to a story (much to my father’s chagrin during football season).  It has been this way since I was young, something I’ve come to understand as sympathy (or sometimes, empathy).  In light of recent developments, I felt led to share a little of that emotion, as best as I can, without (hopefully) fueling anyone’s frustrations even further.  That is my prayer over this post (Deep breath…).

Dear African-American Men,

I am sorry.

I’m sorry that the actions of some have caused the blanket judgement of many.

I’m sorry for the persistence of negative stereotypes.

Because as children of God, you are both valued and valuable.

I cannot imagine what it takes to walk a mile in your shoes.

YOU are important.

YOUR actions (Good or Bad) can change the future.

YOUR life matters.

Dear Police Officers,

I am sorry.

I’m sorry that the actions of some have caused the blanket judgement of many.

I’m sorry for the persistence of negative stereotypes.

Because as children of God, you are both valued and valuable.

I cannot imagine what it takes to walk a mile in your shoes.

YOU are important.

YOUR actions (Good or Bad) can change the future.

YOUR life matters.

At the heart of every protest is a cry for help.  I truly believe this.  But as things heat up, the message can get muddled and then lost behind angry tumult.  The hurt that initially sparked the debate derails and gains speed, steamrolling everything in its path.  Listen, I won’t insult you by claiming I’m even remotely an expert in this area.  Here’s my only insight: Middle school marked my one foray into violence.  During gym class, of all places.  We were playing basketball and I was being guarded heavily.  To the point I wondered if the referee was paying attention.  I kept glancing around like “Does anyone else see this?  Is this right?”  Nothing happened.  So I lashed out with an elbow into my defender’s stomach.  Let’s just say, people noticed then.  Now did my morality and sound judgment lead to that outburst?  Absolutely not.  I immediately felt guilty (as I should have) and apologized profusely to my fellow student.  But I recognize that frustration over being invisible as playing a role in incidents today.  Does that justify these actions?  Of course not.  And some events are simply hatred, violence, and chaos unleashing themselves through toxic sources.  But not all.  Oh my friends, let’s open our eyes and ears.  There HAS to be a better way.

Jesus knew something about this.  There was plenty of anger and labeling happening in His day too.  In fact it lead to one of my favorite teachings by Him, proceeded by these verses in Luke (10:25-29 MSG):  “Just then a religion scholar stood up with a question to test Jesus. ‘Teacher, what do I need to do to get eternal life?’  He answered, ‘What’s written in God’s Law?  How do you interpret it?’  He said, ‘That you love the Lord your God with all your passion and prayer and muscle and intelligence--and that you love your neighbor as well as you do yourself.’  ‘Good answer!’ said Jesus.  ‘Do it and you’ll live.’  Looking for a loophole, he asked, ‘And just how would you define ‘neighbor’?’”

Jesus answers that question with a tremendous story.  One I will paraphrase to relate its relevance today (Please don’t take my word as gospel, read the original story in Luke 10:30-35):

Once there was a cop doing his nightly patrol.  During his surveillance, he was attacked.  Stripped of his gear, beaten within an inch of his life, and left for dead in an alleyway.  At that moment, a chauffeured televangelist crossed the alley in his luxury car.  When he saw the police officer, he had his driver stop, he rolled down his window, and yelled “I’ll be praying for you!” before driving away.  Next a politician heading to a speaking engagement hurried past.  As he rushed by the injured man, he determined to make city safety one of the key topics of discussion at his presentation.  Then a young, black teenager rode up on his bicycle.  His family had taught him kindness, so he approached this stranger with compassion.  He ripped up his sweatshirt and tied it over the police officer’s wounds.  He gently leaned the man against him on his bicycle and pedaled to the closest hospital.  Once the officer was settled in his room, the teenager emptied his own wallet and pockets of change. He visited the gift shop and vending machines, making sure the patient would wake up to a fresh shirt, packaged crullers, and a get well card all resting on his nightstand.

“‘Now which of these three would you say was a neighbor to the man who was attacked by bandits?’ Jesus asked.  The man replied, ‘The one who showed him mercy.’  Then Jesus said, ‘Yes, now go and do the same.’” -Luke 10:36-37

You see, Jesus was familiar with stereotypes.  Read up on the history between Jews and Samaritans (the two main players in His original story) if you have any doubts about that.  So he told this story to get people reconsidering, to flip all that bad thinking on its head (Like yes, cops are capable of accepting help.  And yes, black men are capable of great kindness).  And His answer should be our answer (because HE has graciously extended it to us ALL): Mercy.  In other words, undeserved grace.

I see the discord in this world and I get scared.  I get scared for my future daughter.  I get scared for my son.  I get scared for the families of police officers.  There is so much confusion and suffering here; I worry it will rub off on the ones least able to handle it.  So, like any harassed Mama, I concentrate my laser beam attention on my child.  Which led to this conversation with my seven year old:

Me: Elijah, do you think 1 type of person is more important than another type of person?

Elijah: No-It doesn’t matter who you are.

Me: Why doesn’t it matter?

Elijah: It doesn’t matter what you are on the outside, it only matters who you are in the inside.

Me (completely shocked): Buddy, where did you hear that?

Elijah: Oh just from some people...and the Bible.

Later that evening, I was in proud tears relaying Elijah’s words to my husband.  But then I confessed to feeling that his sweet revelation is no longer true.  Because in many ways, the outside is ALL that matters.  Your political leaning, ethnicity, uniform, religion, sexual orientation, profession.  The label becomes your life, your grouping.  And the lines drawn separating US from THEM are hard, fast, and non-negotiable.  You are what you are, good or bad, and everyone’s conclusions are already drawn.  I told David that I don’t want to live in a world where this is normal behavior.  And my steadfast husband gently responded by saying that it won’t be normal for us.  It won’t be true in OUR house.  We will fight and pray for a world every bit as peaceful and inclusive as Elijah’s simple summary.

I know we are not alone in these hopes.  I want to close with encouraging words from a like-minded Mama, Tara:

“Last night I couldn't sleep, so instead I tried to think about if Jesus was living as a man in Baltimore, what He would be doing this week. Would He be dressed in riot gear, protecting the city? Would He be with the protestors getting loud and angry because he is so tired of the racial and social injustice? Would He be at Freddie's mom's home comforting her? ….Maybe He is sitting on the patio of his favorite Pratt street pub with a few homeless friends, eating a burger, with a sign propped up on His table that reads, ‘Black lives matter. Police lives matter. I think everyone is worth dying for (even the ones that have a long list of arrests).’ ”

Mercy, my friends.  Now go and do the same.

"I have decided to stick with Love.  Hate is too great a burden to bear."--Martin Luther King Jr.