Like most, I have been troubled by the heightened media
surrounding race relations, recently. As a Mexican American, I have been
particularly aghast at the rhetoric that I believe demonizes my race of people
by certain wings of certain political parties (you know whom/what I am talking
about). Truthfully, however, I am not surprised by it. My adolescence was spent
in a predominantly white and affluent suburb of Denver, and neither of these
descriptors are ones I could have used to speak about myself. So, as a
teenager, I experienced the ways some aspects of systemic and cultural racism and
elitism can persist in such an environment.
When I went to college in Northern Colorado, I faced a
political climate that was much more active for both sides of the debate on
immigration, a town that had a diverse population with many more Mexicans
Americans, and a community that was more often at the front lines of dealing
with race relations than my previous community.
For an example, in the mid-oughts my collegiate city had to endure a
serious and large-scale immigration raid that highlighted, on the one hand, the
prevalence of illegal immigration in our city/state and, on the other, how
COMPLETELY DEVASTATING mass deportation can be. This raid was crippling primarily
because it fractured families and then communities and local economies (this is
a great article looking back on that fateful Tues. http://www.denverpost.com/2013/01/14/fear-from-swift-plant-raid-resonates-in-greeley-six-years-later/
). In addition, if you have spent any time reading through my blog, you know
that after college, I spent some years working in Mexico and subsequently El
Paso, TX, which has a predominantly Mexican/Mexican American population.
I say all this as a little back story to help demonstrate
how the trajectory of my life, in the last fifteen years or so, has taken me
away from some of the more in-your-faces instances of racism that I experienced
in my adolescence. But, I have recently began working for a church in the
suburbs where I spent my youth, and I am very excited at the opportunity that I
have been afforded in joining this truly welcoming and supportive church body. Earlier
this month, however, I witnessed something in our community that I was not
prepared for.
In part to aid in my pastoral training, I had the
opportunity to attend a conference, called Q Commons (http://qcommons.com/ ), at another local church
where, hearing from both nationally renowned and great local speakers, crucial
topics were discussed. These topics included the heightened political divide of
this election season, the recent tensions in race relations between the African
American communities and police, systemic racial biases, and other sensitive
topics. Entering the seminar, I was unaware of the interactive nature of the conference.
For those who don’t know. One thing Q Commons does is have their speakers address
the audience in 9 or 18 minute speeches in order to, hopefully, be a bit more
concise and to the point. These short talks allow time for people, seated at a
round table, to discuss the issues being presented without going over the time
limit.
The seminar was held in one small foyer of a massive local
church. So, although I expected there to be thousands filling a grand
auditorium, there were actually less than 150 folks, I would guess. Since I did
not realize how interactive the seminar would be, I entered the time trying get
a few tasks done – email, organization, etc. That is to say, I was determined
not to interact with anyone I did not know, and I made that CLEAR by fully
engaging my tech. Perhaps, this made what was about to happen all the more
jarring. At the very least, it made me realize I need to do a much better job
reading the “what to expect” portion of my ticket for these things!
Although trying my hardest to completely ignore everyone, people
began to fill in the spots around me. I noticed them, acknowledged them, and
continued to read emails. After what seemed to be hours, the evening began. We
heard from some memorable speakers including my former teaching pastor Michael
Hidalgo (http://michael-hidalgo.com/ ).
Michael had a very impactful speech on the idea that we as individuals need to
recognize the biases within ourselves and own up to the ways in which we
perpetuate cultural and social racism. After Michael’s speech, we had a round
of discussion.
One man at our table absolutely did not like or agree with Michael’s
topic and so began what I would call a rant for the next ten minutes. This man,
a white and older middle aged man who mentioned he lived in the affluent
neighborhood where the church was situated, began to pontificate on how racism
was simply a “smoke screen” for the nation’s lack of piety. According to this
man, racism isn’t a problem in the United States but rather unrighteousness,
ungodliness. He mentioned how he believed bias based on color was an absolutely
inevitable social construct that was inherent to human nature and so racism
could not be anything but an illusion based on human nature. And, I even seem
to remember him mentioning something to the effect that fighting racism was
simply a demonic distraction on the nation’s mindset. In the heatedness of the
moment, I did not know what to do, though I fear my response was probably
hugely inadequate. I simply sat there and listened. I did nothing.
At some point during the man’s bombastic tirade, I silently
took stock of the people in the room and realized that I was one of only two
people who were not white. It was me and one other black man who gave me a
reassuring and knowing nod when I inadvertently made eye contact. It was a
glance that said, “me and you, pal…me and you.” Again, having grown up in that
neighborhood, I knew that sort of ratio was not uncommon for the area, but it seemed
to make the situation worst because it added a palpable sense that the others
at the table probably felt embarrassment FOR ME because of this other person’s
ignorance. It was at this point I noticed that the man would not make eye
contact with me. I realized that he was saying the things he was saying,
discrediting any incident of racism I or anyone has ever encountered, knowing
and not caring that it flew in the face of both my opinion and my experience as
a Mexican American.
I usually try my hardest not to label people, but it has
been a while since I have heard such ignorant rabble from someone who could
easily be a caricature of white privilege in America. Eventually, as the rest
of the line-up was introduced for the evening, this man not-so-quietly grumbled
to his wife that he wasn’t going to sit through the rest of the race and political
related speeches. And though she pleaded with him to stay (likely to save
herself from embarrassment), he stormed out and left his wife sitting there
with a table full of strangers. As he was leaving, he said he “didn’t care” and
was going to walk home. She would eventually go after him, as soon as the only
African American speaker took the podium.
I’m not sure what happened to the man after he left, though
I’m sure he had a leisurely if not annoyed walk home in the chilled air of that
Autumn evening. But, I also had the sense that my gut reaction, which was to
completely write him off as a Trump-ian psycho, was not the response the Lord
had to his child nor the one he wanted me to have; as my brother in Christ, I
should I not hope for the Holy Spirit to continue the hard work of
sanctification in him? Needless to say, I left the seminar more than slightly disturbed
at what happened but also challenged by Michael Hidalgo’s speech and the Holy
Spirit to understand what bias looks like in myself.
Later that week, I found myself reading Proverbs 15:9, which
reads:
The Lord detests the way of the wicked
But he loves those who pursue righteousness
And, I began to think
that it would be easy for me to project God’s judgment onto this man and to
think of him, in his ignorance, as one who is that person who is wicked. I
could easily rest in the notion that God’s wrath is all consuming and He would “take
care” of this clearly crooked individual. I could have thought, “shame on him!”
for being so bull headed, for having such a hard heart, and for perpetuating a
culture that allows real hatred against young black men to persist and which
led to such terrible vitriol against my own race in the current election cycle.
Instead, I heard an oft familiar, still and quiet voice
gently remind me that Proverbs 15:9 has a second half – that God’s detestation
of the wicked is not where that verse ends. Indeed, the Holy Spirit patiently
reminded me that the truth of the gospel is no longer defined in damnation but
in grace; that God “loves those who pursue righteousness.” I know, that this
man’s opinion of me, of non-white people, and of racism in general is false and
detestable. However, I also know that the Holy Spirit’s work is not finished in
him. I have to believe that the Holy Spirit means to continue to mold him into
Christ-likeness and that his love for God and desire to see others love him
only evokes God’s love, based on what Proverbs tells us about the pursuit of
righteousness. God knows his flaws, but loves him not because he already is
righteous but for the chasing of righteousness. I have to hope, though he
seemed not to want to confront his own bias in a meaningful way, that the Holy
Spirit might push him to repentance in reflection of his erroneous remarks. I
have to believe that if God’s grace is big enough for me, then it is big enough
for him.
So, in the end, I have to say shame on me for not being more
prepared that night to engage a brother who truly needed direction and fellowship
with another Christian who does not have his same skin color. Shame on me for
not confronting him with words that were salted with grace. Shame on me for not
recognizing my own bias in assuming, if even for a split second, that this man
was categorically outside the sphere of God’s grace. Shame on me for not
immediately recognizing in my interaction with this man that sanctification is
a process and for not remembering that “God loves those who pursue
righteousness.”
