George Floyd. Ahmaud Arbery. Breonna Taylor.
My heart aches over the senseless murder of these three black people. I feel sad, confused, and so angry.
I also feel something else that I don't quite know how to describe. It's almost like the feeling you have when you ride a crazy rollercoaster. You're moving so fast, spinning every which way, turning too quickly, and flying upside down in a way that your body wasn't designed to handle. You feel this deep unsettledness in your gut through the whole ride. And as horrifying as it is, you surrender yourself to the ride because you know that there is a seatbelt to keep you safe. You know that this ride will end. You know that you can get off the ride. You know that you can return to your normal life after the ride.
But what if there isn't a seatbelt to keep you safe? What if this ride never ends? What if there is no "normal" life to go back to? What happens then?
This is what I feel in my gut today. Sadly, I know that this is just a small taste of what the black community experiences all the time.
How is it possible for us to live in the 21st century and still see people treated with such hatred and violence, all because of the color of their skin? These stories are shockingly too common. And they should make us feel unsettled. We should all feel this upside-down-ness in our gut.
Dallas Willard begins his book, The Divine Conspiracy, with a story about a fighter jet pilot who was practicing some high-speed maneuvers on her jet. She pulls on the controls to steer the plane up a steep ascent. But instead of climbing up to the clouds, she flies straight into the ground. She was unaware that she had been flying upside down.
Willard says that this is the parable of our human experience. We are living life without a clue to whether we are flying upside-down or right-side-up. We've been living our "normal" life for so long that we’ve lost sight of the fact that we are flying upside-down. The sad part is that we’ve gotten so used to living upside-down that it no longer bothers us.
I am bothered today. I have been shaken out of my "normal" life and I see the upside-down-ness of racism in our world today and it breaks my heart. What do I do? What can I do? What must I do?
A few weeks ago, I went on a long walk with my son. This was a special time that we set aside to talk and pray together. It was a beautifully sunny day in Vancouver, so lots of people were out enjoying this gift.
We were walking (socially distanced, of course) with the crowd along the waterfront when I noticed an older, white man walking towards us who was staring at me. As we got closer, I saw that he was looking at me with a weird look on his face. When we were just about to pass each other, I could tell that he was visibly agitated by something. Then he yelled at me, "Stay away! Social distance! Quarantine!" He said a few other things that I couldn't understand, and he shooshed me away with his hands and kept walking.
It all happened so fast that it took me a few minutes to process the encounter. As I looked at the people who were walking in front of us and behind us, I came to the painful realization that everyone was white except for me and my son. This man wasn't bothered by any of the white people. But he was obviously agitated by me because I looked like someone who carried the coronavirus. My dignity and my personhood didn't matter to this man who could not see beyond the color of my skin.
This wasn't the first time that something like this has happened to me. Growing up in America as an immigrant from South Korea was not a fun experience for me. I've had my share of racist remarks, name calling, and bullying. But your survival instincts kick in, and you do whatever you can to get by with at least a shred of dignity intact. You pretend you didn't hear anything. You learn to ignore people. You develop coping mechanisms to help you deal with all the hurt. You surrender to the upside-down-ness of the world. Things feel okay for a little while, until something like this encounter happens, and all of these memories come flooding back with a vengeance.
And as much as I have been on the receiving end of racism, I confess that I have also been guilty of harboring racism in my own heart throughout the years. I am a polite, introverted Korean-American, so my racism never came out in anything that I've said or done. But that didn’t make my racism any less real.
We humans do a strange thing for the sake of self-preservation. We judge others by their words and actions. But we judge ourselves by our motives. So even when we do the same wrong things that others do, we have a hundred reasons to justify ourselves. So that in the end, we can come out still feeling good about ourselves.
This is what I did. I justified my own racism. I blamed those who hurt me. I told myself that my racism was okay because I am only responding to what they did to me in the first place. They started the fight. They had it coming. So, they are wrong. I am right. They are evil. I am good. But all of this was in my head and in my heart. Outside, I was still the good, obedient Christian who went to church every Sunday.
Following Jesus means that we let him transform us - every part of us - from the inside out. He wants to heal us. He wants to free us. He wants to show us a better way to live. He wants to show us a truer way to be human.
Most of us are probably familiar with the parable of the Good Samaritan from Luke 10. The key question that is raised in that parable is the one that the expert of the law asks Jesus: “Who is my neighbor?” That’s a great legalistic question, isn’t it? “I want to fulfill every requirement for eternal life, so tell me exactly what to do and who to do it to. Who is my neighbor? Is my neighbor my fellow Jew? Is my neighbor someone who is practicing my particular brand of Judaism? Who is my neighbor?”
Who is my neighbor? That’s a great question. But based on the story that Jesus tells, I think we’re missing the point. Because according to this parable, the real question is not, “Who is my neighbor?” but rather, “To whom am I being a neighbor?”
I can ask myself the question, “Who is my neighbor?” and come up with really great answers. But my answer doesn’t mean a thing unless that person can look at me and tell me, “You have been a neighbor to me!” The question we need to be asking ourselves is not, “Who is my neighbor?” but “To whom am I being a neighbor?”
In the time of racism in our world, who will say of us in the church that we have been true neighbors to them? Does my love for God and faith in Jesus make any difference to the people around me, especially to those who do not look like me?
Jesus is at work making all that is upside-down in this word right-side-up again. Being followers of Jesus means that we are called to partner with Jesus in establishing this right-side-up Kingdom here on earth as it is in heaven.
The world does not need fancier church services or cooler websites. The world desperately needs the people of God to embrace our Kingdom identity, and our Kingdom calling, for the Kingdom story which is all about how the King is at work making everything that upside-down right-side-up again. And it all starts at the moment when we can finally see the upside-down-ness that is all around us, and we feel it in our gut.
That's why I tell my kids about my personal experiences of racism. That's why I tell my kids about the racism that I've harbored in my own heart. I want them to learn from my mistakes. I want them to be captivated by the Kingdom story. I want them to make a Kingdom impact in their generation. Because that's how all of this happens. The Kingdom of God sometimes advances in the world in huge waves. But more often than not, the Kingdom of God moves forward one person at a time. One follower of Jesus waking up to their Kingdom identity, embracing their Kingdom call, and courageously stepping out to proclaim and demonstrate the Kingdom with one other person. One by one by one.
Yesterday was Pentecost Sunday. It is an important day for followers of Jesus because we are reminded on this day that Jesus sent us the Holy Spirit. We are not alone. We have the Holy Spirit. It is the Holy Spirit who empowers us to live for Jesus. It is the Holy Spirit who empowers us for supernatural ministry. It is the Holy Spirit who enables us to do the hard work of repentance, justice, and reconciliation.
Come, Holy Spirit! Come and fill us once again. Come and break our hearts with the things that break yours. Come and open our eyes so that we may see as you see. Come and heal our land. Come and awaken your church. Come and use us to make all that is upside-down right-side-up again, here on earth as it is in heaven.
Pastor Charles Montgomery is a friend of mine. He and I served together at Vineyard Columbus before our family moved to church plant in Vancouver. He is a wonderful pastor. He is a gifted preacher. He shared a brief devotional on Facebook that everyone needs to hear. Let me encourage you to take 30 minutes right now and listen to what he has to say. I pray that his prophetic words would penetrate through our "normal" lives and ignite in us a yearning for the right-side-up Kingdom of Jesus.