Good morning!
Hmm…really struggling with finding the words to write for this email. My heart and maybe your heart, our hearts are aching today. I have been searching myself for days now…maybe you as well. The name George Floyd is present almost everywhere we turn – and if we think about it other names should also be present everywhere we turn – names of the past and names lost in the aftermath of this tragedy – lives that matter, now lost in these riots and other violence.
It has led me to this. Confession. I have a sin to confess. It is a sin of the past and please know it has been laid before the Cross. It was raised to my mind, I believe by the Holy Spirit, to work on my heart in the wake of these last 10 days or so. Maybe you are having a similar experience…
Now, I am moved to share it here, as it demonstrates a brokenness that we carry as fallen humans. And even now in our inaction, our silence or our lack of visible support or empathy for those of different races and their life challenges, a groaning from brokenness can be heard.
This story of mine begins in the small town I grew up in, Blue Earth. A town where white was the predominant color although we did have a doctor from India. A town that at certain times of year (mainly the fall, sometimes in spring) had many migrant workers passing through to assist with the harvest in the fall or with planting in the spring.
The children of these workers would often attend school while their parents worked the fields. I attended St Peter and Paul’s Catholic grade school at this time – it was the early sixties, I was maybe seven or eight years old. Some of the migrant worker’s children attended this school with me and my other classmates.
Every morning around 10 am we would get a recess break. Maybe you remember those days of getting let loose on the playground – running off to the swings or monkey bars or the slide. Or playing pump-pump-pull-away or tag or just generally running amok. Some good memories in all of that.
I do not remember the date, day or day of the week. It was fall. The day always started with a Mass in the Catholic Church right across the street from the school. Then it was off to our classes. Like most children, I could not wait for recess. I do not remember the boy, a son of a migrant worker family. I do remember he was Hispanic.
Unlike not being able to remember what day it was, what follows became seared in my memory. Exiting the classroom for recess was always a crazy chaotic scene, pushing and shoving to see who could get outside first – always to the consternation of the nuns of course.
This particular day, the Hispanic boy became the focus of three or four of my “friends” and I. He was just looking to enjoy play time with us. What was our answer?
We started running in circles around him. Then our taunting began. And my friends were not alone in their taunting. Even though I knew this was wrong, my desire to belong, my fear of losing friends overcame my sense of right and wrong, my sense that this was one of God’s image bearers. I had been on the other side of this taunting and knew what it felt like so I had plenty of reason to understand and empathize…But no, my choice was to join in with the taunting. And, this from children being brought up in faith, being taught in some fashion God’s Word, right and wrong, being given a moral foundation.
I am going to share a few additional details here, getting specific with a taunt we used and ask your forgiveness but feel the need to share it to illustrate how broken these actions were.
As we are circling the boy, he is starting to cry and trying to break out of our circle. The circle collapses as he starts to run from us. A chase ensues, with us chanting “Mexicano” over and over again, as if that were some sin to be of that heritage…that he was somehow less than us.
And then we turn to run away from him and he pursues us crying and angry…and then we run into the church as if seeking protection from God, kneeling in the back pews, pretending we are pious and praying to God – somehow clean and worthy before the Lord. I can remember the smell of the church, the grain in the wood of the pews, and now remembering, the unholy giggling of our unholy cabal. I am so sorry for this behavior.
This was never repeated. I am thankful for that. God has provided forgiveness for this overt racism and inhuman action. I never saw the boy again after that school year. I regret not being able to ask his forgiveness, to let him know that I now see him – see him as an equal and image bearer of God.
So you may understand now why George Floyd’s death and the tragedy that followed brought this memory back. I am glad for it. I am glad that God is at work through the Holy Spirit to sanctify me in preparation for eternity and life with Him.
To view each person as an image bearer. To love God with my whole heart, to love my neighbors as myself. We each know words matter and we also know that actions matter and that the two need to be in sync. Faith leads to loving in word and deed.
Maybe you have your own story like this?
I hope not but if so sharing it with others and before God seems to be a sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit! And that is a true blessing.
Here are some scriptures that came to mind as I thought about this for you to ponder:
I know a lot that God has shared with us that is pertinent to our current circumstances and I hope you make some time to consider these verses or others that God has put on your heart.
Also, can I recommend you listen to some of the videos found here – The Tyler Merritt Project specifically, listen to this video?
My prayer for each of us as we enter this weekend is that we can rest, really rest in our Savior Jesus Christ – and in that rest find ways to act in the love of Christ bringing our living faith to bear in this broken world! Amen!
Have a weekend filled with the Peace that comes from knowing our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ
Hmm…really struggling with finding the words to write for this email. My heart and maybe your heart, our hearts are aching today. I have been searching myself for days now…maybe you as well. The name George Floyd is present almost everywhere we turn – and if we think about it other names should also be present everywhere we turn – names of the past and names lost in the aftermath of this tragedy – lives that matter, now lost in these riots and other violence.
It has led me to this. Confession. I have a sin to confess. It is a sin of the past and please know it has been laid before the Cross. It was raised to my mind, I believe by the Holy Spirit, to work on my heart in the wake of these last 10 days or so. Maybe you are having a similar experience…
Now, I am moved to share it here, as it demonstrates a brokenness that we carry as fallen humans. And even now in our inaction, our silence or our lack of visible support or empathy for those of different races and their life challenges, a groaning from brokenness can be heard.
This story of mine begins in the small town I grew up in, Blue Earth. A town where white was the predominant color although we did have a doctor from India. A town that at certain times of year (mainly the fall, sometimes in spring) had many migrant workers passing through to assist with the harvest in the fall or with planting in the spring.
The children of these workers would often attend school while their parents worked the fields. I attended St Peter and Paul’s Catholic grade school at this time – it was the early sixties, I was maybe seven or eight years old. Some of the migrant worker’s children attended this school with me and my other classmates.
Every morning around 10 am we would get a recess break. Maybe you remember those days of getting let loose on the playground – running off to the swings or monkey bars or the slide. Or playing pump-pump-pull-away or tag or just generally running amok. Some good memories in all of that.
I do not remember the date, day or day of the week. It was fall. The day always started with a Mass in the Catholic Church right across the street from the school. Then it was off to our classes. Like most children, I could not wait for recess. I do not remember the boy, a son of a migrant worker family. I do remember he was Hispanic.
Unlike not being able to remember what day it was, what follows became seared in my memory. Exiting the classroom for recess was always a crazy chaotic scene, pushing and shoving to see who could get outside first – always to the consternation of the nuns of course.
This particular day, the Hispanic boy became the focus of three or four of my “friends” and I. He was just looking to enjoy play time with us. What was our answer?
We started running in circles around him. Then our taunting began. And my friends were not alone in their taunting. Even though I knew this was wrong, my desire to belong, my fear of losing friends overcame my sense of right and wrong, my sense that this was one of God’s image bearers. I had been on the other side of this taunting and knew what it felt like so I had plenty of reason to understand and empathize…But no, my choice was to join in with the taunting. And, this from children being brought up in faith, being taught in some fashion God’s Word, right and wrong, being given a moral foundation.
I am going to share a few additional details here, getting specific with a taunt we used and ask your forgiveness but feel the need to share it to illustrate how broken these actions were.
As we are circling the boy, he is starting to cry and trying to break out of our circle. The circle collapses as he starts to run from us. A chase ensues, with us chanting “Mexicano” over and over again, as if that were some sin to be of that heritage…that he was somehow less than us.
And then we turn to run away from him and he pursues us crying and angry…and then we run into the church as if seeking protection from God, kneeling in the back pews, pretending we are pious and praying to God – somehow clean and worthy before the Lord. I can remember the smell of the church, the grain in the wood of the pews, and now remembering, the unholy giggling of our unholy cabal. I am so sorry for this behavior.
This was never repeated. I am thankful for that. God has provided forgiveness for this overt racism and inhuman action. I never saw the boy again after that school year. I regret not being able to ask his forgiveness, to let him know that I now see him – see him as an equal and image bearer of God.
So you may understand now why George Floyd’s death and the tragedy that followed brought this memory back. I am glad for it. I am glad that God is at work through the Holy Spirit to sanctify me in preparation for eternity and life with Him.
To view each person as an image bearer. To love God with my whole heart, to love my neighbors as myself. We each know words matter and we also know that actions matter and that the two need to be in sync. Faith leads to loving in word and deed.
Maybe you have your own story like this?
I hope not but if so sharing it with others and before God seems to be a sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit! And that is a true blessing.
Here are some scriptures that came to mind as I thought about this for you to ponder:
- See Ezekiel 11:19-20 and Ezekiel 36:25-27 – I pray for a transformed heart, one that can follow the commandments to love given by God and Jesus Christ
- See 2 Corinthians 3:2-4 I pray that the letter from Christ written on our hearts can be read by the world
- See Proverbs – God shared much wisdom around how we communicate and live in this book, I pray we spend time here and let God’s word be written into our hearts.
- See Matthew 22:36-39; Mark 12:29-31; Luke 10:26-8; You all know the commands to love – first God and then neighbor – so let us really do this knowing our neighbor is anyone we might meet.
- See 1 Corinthians 13 here in God’s Word through Paul we learn about love as God defines it – especially see verses 4-6 – “Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth.” I pray we love like this!
- See Matthew 5:42-48; Luke 6:34-36; I pray we remember that we are also called to love our enemies even to the point of having mercy on them even as God shares His mercy.
- See James 1:19-20; 1:22-25; 2:1; 2:14-26; all of 3 So much in here in James to pray about – being quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to anger, being a doer of God’s word not just a hearer, being impartial regardless in all we intersect in life bringing God’s love to be shared, our faith needs to be lived, not something kept at home on a shelf – as we hear from Love A Child, love is something you do, and finally, our tongues hold power – to share love – or to share hate – chose love and wisdom from God.
- See John 20:22-23 And I pray, forgiveness – forgiving and asking forgiveness - permeates our words and deeds as we live out life in our current imperfection.
- Finally, see John 3:16-17 as this is the reason for our hope, that hope that comes from our repenting from sin, turning to Jesus Christ who showed us the ultimate love so we could indeed spend an eternity with Him in perfect peace where our brokenness does not create tragedies like the taunting of a Hispanic boy or the death of George Floyd and everything that followed.
I know a lot that God has shared with us that is pertinent to our current circumstances and I hope you make some time to consider these verses or others that God has put on your heart.
Also, can I recommend you listen to some of the videos found here – The Tyler Merritt Project specifically, listen to this video?
My prayer for each of us as we enter this weekend is that we can rest, really rest in our Savior Jesus Christ – and in that rest find ways to act in the love of Christ bringing our living faith to bear in this broken world! Amen!
Have a weekend filled with the Peace that comes from knowing our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ