Continuing to think about race…

A friend of mine used to say that slavery in the past makes black/white relations difficult. After hearing many of my black brothers and sisters and reading about some things that are going on today, I don’t think that’s true.

It’s today’s injustice that needs to be dealt with. We see the big stories like the murder of George Floyd. We miss the little ones. Did you see the story of the white woman’s interaction with a Harvard-educated black bird watcher in Central Park? This isn’t a cop arresting a suspect; this is an ordinary white woman threatening a black man with death by cop just because he asked her to observe the plainly posted leash laws. Scary. 

I can walk into a car dealership, pick out a car, drive off with a loan and no money down in under two hours. My similarly educated black friends plan on it taking all day. 

My friend Rob Webster posted this on Facebook back on May 8.

There’s a lot of talk about privilege on Facebook these days. I thought I’d add something to the conversation.

I’m a white guy. I’m often blissfully ignorant of my privilege. It’s pretty easy to be unaware of it. But one area where I tend to be very aware of it is when I’m fishing.

Fishing is often a solitary activity. I go out alone all the time, and often at night. I don’t think many women would feel comfortable standing alone for hours on end at a pond at night. Most people who fish are men. There might be a lot of reasons for this, but I think one is just because of safety. I can only recall one time when I felt uncomfortable and unsafe because of people or activity around me. I don’t think I’d say that if I were female.

I’m also aware that the color of my skin gives me a pass. Sometimes I fish in HOA neighborhoods that have private ponds that I’m not supposed to fish in. But I know that I look like the people who live there, and it’s pretty unlikely that they’ll see me and think that I don’t belong. They’ll probably assume I live there. Every time I’ve fished at one of these, my white privilege has come to mind. Every time.

And then the police have shown up. It was just a little past midnight, and from the pond I saw them pull up behind my car. They got out, shined a light around in my windows, and were looking around. I packed up my stuff and started trudging towards them. I honestly didn’t know that the park closed at midnight. But I wasn’t fearful as I walked up. I just figured I’d talk to them and it would be no big deal. Which is exactly how it went down. We were friendly. I even told them I had some extra poles if they wanted to join me for a minute. It was only later that it occurred to me that I mightn’t have been so calm, so confident that a simple conversation could resolve this, if I were black.

I don’t know the solution for this kind of disparity. I do know we need to remember what my black friend whom I quoted yesterday said:

We need as many people  as possible talking about Depth in Christ and living out the gospel every single day with everyone we meet.

Maybe all of us should remember, as a black preacher told me years ago, “We used to sit in the back of the bus. If you and I were in Israel in Bible days, neither of us would have been allowed on the bus!”

Therefore remember that at one time you Gentiles in the flesh, called “the uncircumcision” by what is called the circumcision, which is made in the flesh by hands— remember that you were at that time separated from Christ, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world. (Ephesians 2.11, 12, ESV)

Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor. (Romans 12.10, ESV)

Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. (Romans 12.15, ESV)