A Wounded Young Man

Pastor Joe Herd and I spoke at a local religious school this morning to a group of junior high students. The topic was “race”. We shared the usual truth. The Scripture – AND SCIENCE – both state that beneath the surface, we are all simply human. Not only does Paul say that “God made us all from one blood…” [Acts 17:26] but the Genome Project has confirmed that “race” is simply not a scientific category – underneath the surface, in our DNA, we aren’t red, yellow, black or white – we are people. Then we talked about our unity in Jesus, the fact that He came to “break down” the walls that have divided us – every one of them – in and through His death on a cross [Eph. 2:11-22]. So in Jesus, we are “neither Greek nor Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave or free…but Christ is all and in all.” [Col. 3:11]

“So”, we said to the students, “intellectually and spiritually – race, skin-color, ethnicity isn’t a reasonable way to judge another human being. It’s all surface. Character is individual. No one can say, “All white people are…” or “All black people are…” – because it just isn’t true – scientifically or biblically. And we told the students that until we “get this” – we are all at risk in every culture, everywhere, all over the world. The Yugoslavians turned on each other several decades ago and slaughtered thousands of their own over race and religion and ethnicity. By now, the Rwandan genocide which resulted from the rift between the Hutus and the Tutsis is infamous world-wide. The “rape of Nanking” which occurred in the 1930’s was only the most atrocious and abhorrent of the incidents between Chinese and Japanese which were the result of centuries of hatred. Dr. King said about our own situation in America, at the close of the racially oppressive long dark night of Jim Crow – “Either we learn to live together as brothers or we perish together as fools.” And of course, since these racial and national wounds are reflective of a myriad of other relational wounds – between families and mothers and sons and daughters and dads and husbands and wives and friends and neighbors and colleagues – and since these relational wounds are our deepest wounds of all – ALL of us are looking for relief! Is there any hope? We told the students that only in Jesus do we have hope of healing – and if the church doesn’t deal with its racial stuff – the world has NO picture of whether this healing can ever happen – in reality – at all. We can talk all we want about the healing power of Jesus – but if we live divided by race or whatever – our words have no power. No meaning. No reality.

Now, to the point. At the end of our session we asked for comments or questions…and one young man raised his hand and told us how his mother was white and his father was black and how his grandparents have never accepted him and have made him feel unwanted and how he didn’t even like to go their home anymore. The look on this young man’s face, his very countenance…broke my heart. First I wanted to cry. Then I wanted to go beat the hell out of somebody. Of course, Joe and I gathered ourselves and ministered to the young man and told him how proud we were that he had the courage to speak about his wound and how he was loved by God and how God might begin to heal his wound as he poured it out to Him…and maybe even give him strength to love his grandma in spite of the rejection. And then the bell rang and our time was over and we had to move on. But I can’t. And I keep asking myself this afternoon…over and over and over…what will it take for us to come to our senses? What has to happen – how many people have to die around the world until we recognize the lie of the enemy that divides us and perpetrates hatred? HOW MANY 12 YEAR OLD YOUNG MEN HAVE TO GROW UP WITH WOUNDED HEARTS AND DECIMATED SOULS BECAUSE WE REFUSE TO DEAL WITH OUR RACIAL BAGGAGE AND CALL OUR STEREOTYPES AND PREJUDICE AND JUDGMENTS AND FUNNY LOOKS WHAT THEY REALLY ARE – RACISM FROM HELL. And when will we send it back to hell where it came from so that we can become the multifaceted, deeply rich and beautiful diamond we were created to be? When will we stop prostituting Jesus Christ on the altar of our old, racial baggage and wound? When will we stop living like hypocrites – pretending to follow the real Jesus of Nazareth when really we’re worshipping at the altar of some modern-day racist Baal?

May God give this young, wounded brother much, much grace for his future. May our God redeem this young man’s pain. May He literally work out this racist crap for this young man’s ultimate good – and for the good of those he touches over the years. For Jesus’ sake…amen.

It's a dance . . .

Melissa Rumrill is a beautiful young daughter of God who is serving a prison sentence. It is amazing to watch and feel how her Abba Father is using an incredibly difficult experience to draw her close to Himself. Recently, she wrote me a letter and in the letter she paints a picture of her relationship with God that is so deep and powerful that I had to share it.

“Kevin, I’m so blessed in prison. I spend virtually all day in prayer, in the Word, being a witness for Christ. I am definitely learning how to live by the Spirit and keep in step with the Spirit. To truly keep in step – to me – is illustrated perfectly like this:

When I was a little girl, my dad took me to our town’s annual daddy-daughter dance around Valentine’s Day. I didn’t necessarily know how to dance, but I knew my dad did and he would show me how – I was so eager to learn! So when the very first song came on – usually a slow song – I’d put my little feet on top of his and I’d wrap my arms tightly around him and [because I was so short and tiny compared to him] I would tilt my head back and just gaze up at him in awe. I felt such an intense joy that I didn’t even notice when other people bumped into me – nothing could take my focus away from my father’s face. It was always really packed, so people would accidentally run into others – stepping on toes, knocking others out of rhythm, but not me – I could not be moved. People would bump us, but my dad had me wrapped up in his embrace so nothing could separate us. Nobody ever hut me by stepping on my toes because, as they rested on my father’s shoes, they were always protected, and no amount of commotion caused us to fall out of step with one another because essentially we were one – he was leading our steps. I recognized that I clearly could not be the leader, so I willingly trusted him to guide me, and even in the midst of the chaos on the dance floor, I loved my dad so much that I refused to take my eyes off of him. Although I’m a grown woman now, I’m learning to keep in step with the Spirit of God, my Heavenly Father. As a daughter of the King, I’m learning to stand on the solid rock of Christ, to keep my focus fixed and my gaze upward to heaven, to cling to the tree on which Jesus bore my sins [I Peter 2:24] and gave to me His righteousness, to walk in His ways so as to ensure that I will not be moved [Psalm 15].”

Thanks, Melissa. May we all, today, keep our eyes on our Father, who has us in His embrace and allows us to stand on His feet as we dance with Him through life.