Lately, race seems to be the hot-button issue in America. Whenever we think we are over the issue of race, an incident like the Paula Deen fiasco stirs the pot. Then, a high-profile case like the Trayvon Martin/George Zimmerman trial blows the lid off the pot. The truth is that none of us can know what it's really like to be another, and it would be so wise for us to keep that in mind as we formulate opinions and speak.
If you are white, you don't know what it's like to have your motives questioned or be pulled over for no reason other than the fact that you're not white. You have lived with a privilege that is so beneath the surface that you don't even know it's there. I am a white male, and if I am dressed well when a cashier short-changes me at the register, if I return in a few minutes to let him/her know of their error, my request is met immediately by the manager. Such incidents are not always as pleasant for my friends of color or even women.
If you are African-American, you don't know what it's like to be accused of racism every time you disagree with a person of color, or don't hire a person of color, or say that you're not particularly fond of a particular athlete. You don't know what it's like to feel like you can't say anything about the subject of race because it will be taken out of context, no matter how thoughtful it is.
And those of us that are African-American or white don't now what it's like to be Hispanic or Asian-American or Arab-American. We don't know how if feels to be on the outside looking in when it comes to the national discussion of race, because there are certainly more than two 'colors.' We don't know what it's like to be pulled over simply because an authority thought we 'looked illegal'...whatever that means.
If we are from the North, we don't know what it's like to live in the South, where tensions have been high in the past. White people in the South don't know what it's like for African-Americans to step into churches that still have the old slave seats in the balcony or walk through cemeteries where slaves are buried. African-American people in the South don't know that it's like for White people who are very ashamed of our past and of the words, actions, and attitudes of those that have gone before us, some of them our grandparents or great-grandparents, and other ancestors.
So, we don't really know what it's like to walk in another's shoes. We just don't. So what's the answer?
America has always struggled to figure out what equality means. Is it just for the rich? Do the Native Americans that were here before us get equality? Does it include slaves? Does it mean women can vote? Does it mean African-Americans can sit anywhere they want on the bus? Do first generation immigrants count? Do unborn children get to be equal?
I believe the hope in this mess of a conversation rests with the Body of Christ. Our ethic on equality has always been found in the first chapter of the Bible:
"He created Him in the image of God. He created them male and female" Genesis 1:27. We are all image-bearers of Almighty God. Our race is not defined by the color of our skin, for we are all part of the image-bearer race. It is not that God is not a race, it is that God is all of them. In the Body of Christ, the Church, there is a citizenship that trumps our nationality and our skin tone. We are His people...His children. This is why I have great hope in the area of race. I'm not sure America can get it figured out, but I'm certain the Church can.
Church hasn't always been a place where the image-bearer mentality has been front and center. The Church has been a place with as much or more blatant racism as the marketplace or politics. But I believe there are better days ahead. I am so honored to lead a church that is filled with beautiful faces of different colors and ethnicities. In eight years as pastor of Church of the Way, this has always been the case, and no one has ever thought it was weird. This is what heaven looks like. We do life together, and we see each other as image-bearers of Almighty God. Last week, we ministered to around 90 children in our community at a Sports and Arts Camp called KidsGames, and they represented the rainbow of humanity. They all looked like God. Just like Him. They bear His image.
I don't know if America can solve this on her on. She's been trying for nearly 240 years. I'm hopeful, but we've got some work to do. However, I believe in the Body of Christ. If nothing else, we can be a light for those around us. We can look like what heaven will look like. We can rejoice in the image of God in each of us. We can see beyond every barrier because we see world through eyes of the soul. There is something so right about that, and my prayer is that when Americans are looking for a satisfying answer to the question of race, they will see it exemplified in the Body of Christ, not only on Sundays, but in the way Followers of Christ live out our image-bearing ethic at work, at play, at school, in the grocery store and even on Facebook. Dear Jesus, let it be.
