Skip to main content

Black Brothers, What Would You Have Us Do?

Another day, another black man dead at the hands of the police.

The well-warranted response has unequivocally condemned the misdeeds of the four officers involved and called for their prosecution.  Social media is replete with calls for action, for change, for justice.  Our nation is in an uproar once again.

As a white man, situations like this leave me sad and confused.  I never know quite how to react.  I know that, first of all, we need to make sure that we don't conflate all stories of violence against black men.  Each story is unique and needs to be viewed individually.  We may notice the pattern that these stories demonstrate, but we need to acknowledge every victim and every perpetrator.  We need to weigh the evidence in each and every case.

I also know that the problem of police brutality is not exclusively a racial issue.  I am willing to acknowledge that police brutality towards black men may be disproportionate, but the reality is that plenty of men and women of all ethnicities experience police brutality.  Calling this a racial issue is overly simplistic.  This is an issue of police departments, infamous for their fraternal cultures, failing to hold accountable those psychotic, power-hungry individuals within their ranks.  This isn't (just) about race.  It's about right vs wrong.  It's about good vs evil.  It's about Uncle Sam overstepping his bounds without being held accountable.

Too many times the white response to this issue is to rationalize what happened, to call out the media for race-baiting, or to demonize the victim.  Whatever extenuating circumstances may exist in any given situation, the fact is that too many black men are brutalized by police, and that should outrage anyone who speaks of justice, calls himself pro-life, or claims the name of Christ.

This is where the confusion and frustration come in.  Of my 5000 Facebook friends, not a single one defended the actions of that abhorrent police officer.  From what I can tell, America is united in condemning his acts.  Our nation, black and white alike, has condemned him and the officers that stood by and allowed him to abuse his badge.

So, what now?

I ask this sincerely.  What would you have us do?

What do you want me, an average white guy in Canton, OH, to do?

Black pastors are calling for awareness.  Athletes are calling for justice.  Average folks around the country are filling social media with cries for America to respond.

So what do you want us to do about it?  What can be done when the criminals are in charge?

I am aware.  I sympathize with you.  In fact, I am mortified by the injustices perpetrated against blacks, throughout history and in our own day.  I acknowledge that my life has probably been easier because I am white.  I do my best to treat all people equally, regardless of the color of his skin.  I am raising my children with this same worldview.

What else can I do?

How can I erase racism from the hearts of sinners?  How can I reverse the racial strife that has existed, not simply between blacks and whites, but between people of different nationalities and ethnicities throughout history?  How can I stop the police from brutalizing my fellow citizens across this nation?

I must confess that I do not have the answers to these questions.

In a world full of evils, racial strife is one more injustice that I cannot fix.  If I could snap my fingers and heal all racial strife in the world, I certainly would, but I can't.  The only solution I know is the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  The Church of Jesus should be a place where men, women, and children of any nationality or ethnicity can find brotherly love and the peace of Christ.  Unfortunately, this has not always been the case. 

So, my black brothers, what would you have me to do?  The only thing I know to do is love my neighbor as myself.  What else can I do?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Real Presence & Paedocommunion: A Deeper Rift Between Reformed Churches

You're going back to Rome! Theological disagreements within the Reformed world, especially those of the last half century, often devolve into these sorts of accusations.  As controversialists like Doug Wilson and Peter Leithart began to break away from the larger conservative Presbyterian and Reformed denominations, it became clear that the rift was deeper than semantics and systematic minutiae.  Much like the Reformation four centuries before, the Table was a primary point of conflict.   What does it mean?  Who may partake?  What do we call it?    These questions, along with a few more, divided Reformed brethren as the physical elements of our religion reflected deeper conflicts.  Good men began to understand that the problem wasn't just in our logos, but in our pathos and ethos, as well. Paedocommunion (hereafter PC) has been one of the hottest points of contention.  PC has always been normal to me as I grew up with it.  I underst...

Anglicanism, Paedocommunion, & Being Reformed

I consider myself Reformed.  I was baptized as a baby in a PCA church.  I grew up in a Reformed microdenomination that allowed its member churches to subscribe to any of the Reformed confessions (we subscribed to the Three Forms of Unity).  In many ways, whether I like it or not, I still think and act like a Reformed Presbyterian.   Some, however, would seek to deny me that label.  I suspect there are many reasons for this, but paramount among them is that I hold to Paedocommunion (hereafter PC), which, for some reason, is absolutely the worst thing ever to these people.  Some would go so far as to say that PC makes me a heretic, but they all agree that I am certainly not Reformed .   My recent engagement with these opponents of PC has caused me to reflect on what it means to be Reformed and what it means to be a Christian.  This online jousting has dovetailed well with some of my recent study, particularly  An Apology of the Church...

Some Thoughts on the 2024 Election

So, we had an election earlier this week.  Perhaps you heard about it. I have done my best to remain mostly silent on political issues this time around because I have found that fixating on such matters does little for my mental or spiritual health.  Also, no one cares what I think.  Nevertheless, here are a few thoughts on our recent election. 1) I didn't vote for Donald Trump, but I'd be lying if I said I'm not glad he won.  To be clear, that says more about Kamala Harris than about Donald Trump. 2) This election seemed much cleaner--much less suspicious--than the sordid affair we had in 2020.  This election didn't feature any poll workers tallying (discovering? conjuring?) votes behind closed doors in the wee hours of the night, messy mail-in voting, or voter turnout beyond plausible expectations.  The 2020 election had me convinced that we would never see another peaceful, uncontested election, but, as contentious as things were this year, it seems like...