A Black Sister Kindly Schools This Old White Guy

How are you dealing with things? These are unusual days, aren’t they? My oldest daughter recently said, “When I complained a week ago about only talking about corona, I had no idea we’d only be talking about racism now!”

I suppose if you or someone close to you has COVID-19, that’s still a pretty relevant topic of conversation. Much grace and renewed health to you. And maybe you’re already weary of race talk. Can you bear with me for a few more words?

I’m wondering what God may be saying to you and me, to people like us:

• We are people who love Jesus.
• We are people who believe God created the races, colors, and cultures of the world for his glory.
• We are overwhelmingly White.

If you are not White and read Missions Catalyst, thank you so much. I value your experience and would welcome whatever input you have time and inclination to give on this meager offering.

As for me, I grew up in about as bucolic a Midwest American setting as you could imagine. If my dad had shaved only his mustache, our family could have modeled for the covers of soon-to-come Amish Christian fiction. It was homogeneous, parochial, and safe, if a little boring.

I cut my cross-cultural teeth under the influence of Steve Hawthorne’s missiology which emphasized asking questions and taking the time to listen well. I’ve often challenged others to cultivate curiosity about peoples and cultures and to delay judgement, that is, don’t assume you’ve got things all figured out too early.

Maybe, like me, you feel you haven’t got this whole racial injustice thing figured out. I’d like to share with you some insights from a friend of mine.

Meet Felicia

Meet Felicia Follum. She’s an accomplished artist, helps lead her church’s mission efforts, holds two masters degrees, and was crushed on by more than one African migrant guy when we were on a short-term mission trip to care for Muslim refugees in Sicily a few years ago.

Felicia says, “Blackness isn’t my first identity, but it is an identity.” It deeply shapes who she is.

Leaving his restaurant one night, her biological father was murdered by the KKK. Just to be clear, she’s not 80 years old, recalling events from days long gone. Felicia is in her early thirties.

Sharing some of her personal experience, Felicia recounted a doctor’s visit for a sore tummy. The physician told her, “Given your demographic, statistically, you probably have STDs.” When Felicia insisted she hadn’t been sleeping around, the doctor replied, “It’s probably your husband then.”

Widening the circle, Felicia said, “I can’t think of one person of color who hasn’t been mistreated by police at least once.”

I asked her what White people might miss or not understand about their own situation. She said White privilege doesn’t necessarily mean you get more stuff or that your life is trouble free. “You still have trouble and deal with hard things. What White privilege does mean is that you don’t have blackness to deal with as well.”

What Can We Do?

Knowing how asinine it sounded, I asked, “So what is the solution to all this, Felicia?”

“First off, we’ve got to find a way to address problems starting young. 50% of Black babies are aborted. 70-80% of Black babies who are born begin life in single parent households. 90% of Black kids have more ACEs (Adverse Childhood Experiences) than my White husband, Jim.”

“There are also actions White people can take now. And these would really work, if they’d do them.”

1. Learn

Felicia asks, “Can you name ten African Americans from US history and say one or two things about what they did? They’re there!” (For starters, check out Maggie Walker and the first missionary sent out from the US, former African slave George Liele.)

Why is it that the average American can only name three to seven? I don’t know about you, but I have a lot to learn.

Toward that end, I’ve started reading a couple of books. You can find many lists of books curated by smarter people than me, but here are mine. If you have read these or have already, I’d welcome a chat about them.

• White Awake, An Honest Look at What It Means to Be White, by Daniel Hill (IVP Books, 2017).
• I’m Still Here: Black Dignity in a World Made for Whiteness, by Austin Channing Brown (Convergent Books, 2018; a memoir).

I think it’s also good to ask questions of your Black friends, if you have any. I have one. Of course, this is dicey and will not always work. Some Black people understandably don’t relish the newfound role of enlightening the light-skinned masses. Some, like my friend Felicia, are kind beyond words.

2. Listen

At lunch recently a couple of colleagues were discussing the protests, the riots and looting, the “abolish the police” ideas, and the assumed spike in crime that would follow. I kept mostly quiet, not sure what to say and accurately assessing that I lack the intellectual resources to poke a stick in that hornet’s nest.

While on the one hand I agree that people shouldn’t burn someone’s business or trash the car of someone who’s just trying to get home to her family. On the other hand, I can’t help wondering, “What motivates people to do things like that?” What is the “why” behind the action? Or maybe the “why” two or three layers deep behind the behavior?

Is it possible that I’ve only listened to people like me for so long I’ve concluded there is no reasonable motivation? There’s no valid claim for injustice. This is America, after all. Anyone and everyone can make good choices, if they just will.

Or maybe not.

Felicia says she currently has 40 text conversations underway with White people whose minds are being changed, who are seeing sin they hadn’t been aware of, people who feel like they haven’t listened to others. Yay for them and yay for Felicia. (No, I won’t give you her mobile number, because I’m selfishly angling for number 41!)

3. Engage

Felicia encouraged me and you, “Go to protests. You might not feel comfortable carrying some of the common signs nor espousing some of the sentiments. But most Christians would be okay with a sign that says, ‘do justice, love mercy, walk humbly.’ (A brilliant mantra for these days. Thank you, Micah!)

“Go beyond the sign and connect with some people. Ask good questions. For instance, ‘What are your beliefs?’ ‘What caused you to choose that sign?’ Say, ’I’m making a list of people to pray for. How can I pray for you?’ Then do it. Build the habit of asking lots of people how you can pray for them.”

Conclusion

What’s God saying to you about this? I feel mostly like I need to listen and maybe somehow validate other people’s experiences in a new way, perhaps only in my mind.

As far as action goes, I don’t know yet. Jesus set the bar pretty high when he told the synagogue that Isaiah 61:1 had been fulfilled in their midst and proceeded to confirm it by putting his very life on the line.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on all this, particularly what you’re reading, who you’re listening to and what God seems to be saying to you and us. Please respond on our website or social media, or just reply to this email.