Don't Be A Goat!

I was hungry and you fed me,

I was thirsty and you gave me a drink,

I was homeless and you gave me a room,

I was shivering and you gave me clothes,

I was sick and you stopped to visit,

I was in prison and you came to me.

~ Matthew 25:35-36 The Message

As the world was just in the beginnings of pandemic life...
As shelves began to empty of toilet paper and hand sanitizer...

We were approaching a pivotal moment that would define us as individuals, as a society, as a nation. A moment where, when looking back at it now, we clearly could have done better.

It was a moment that came quickly, perhaps without much thought... which is why we missed out on an opportunity to live our faith fully, and in turn, to strengthen the wellbeing of our neighbors.

Let me explain.

As history has shown, when we as a society, in our cities, our neighborhoods, experience hardship... specifically, when we fall victim to some type of disaster, we band together to help one another out. We have seen this time and time again following the devastation wrought by hurricanes, tornados, wildfires, house fires, even power outages. When our lives are abruptly disrupted, we have repeatedly sought to help one another.

Emergency shelter has been provided.
Clothing, food and other resources have been shared.
The community has come together in remarkable ways to meet the needs of our neighbors.

A tree falls on someone's house? Complete strangers come with chainsaws to help clean it up.
Winter storm knocks out the power? Neighbors welcome others in to their generator-supported home.
A friend loses their job? We help them out with food or financial supports.

When we see suffering in our midst, we respond. When we see others in need, we respond.

Well... at least most of the time, we do.

When the COVID-19 pandemic was initially descending upon us, we had nothing to compare it to. And that sense of unknowing increased the levels of fear we embodied. And, when fearful, we may not always be making the clearest of decisions.

And subsequently... shelves once filled with toilet paper, hand sanitizer and soap sat vacant for weeks. Produce and meat sections in the grocery store stood eerily empty. And many of us, many of our neighbors wondered where we would find the essentials we needed to survive.

And perhaps some of us also thought, with a slight ray of hope, that someone was going to come to our aid.

We quickly learned that the pandemic was unlike any disaster we had experienced before. Our communities, our nation were not emotionally equipped for what was in store... a drastic shift in our desires to help one another.

There was a rising focus centered more on self... and away from neighbor.

I have found it fascinating, honestly, to witness this shift.

And yes, there are plenty of people who are looking out for others... sharing their toilet paper and their food. Yet, overwhelmingly, the behaviors we were seeing play out in our communities leaned more toward selfish than selfless.

And that is absolutely heartbreaking.

And now, as we have navigated the past several months of the pandemic...
As stores have been able to restock their toilet paper and produce...
We see another example of this selfish nature emerging.

Masks

And somehow, what was to be a resource for community health became a political debate. And the line between selfish and selfless became clearer.

Science continues to show us how a simple cloth face mask can serve as a significant tool in slowing down the virus' transmission. In part, it offers a form of protection for those who wear them. In addition, it provides even more protection for others... those with whom we come in contact.

Wearing a mask reduces the risk of our passing the virus to others.
Wearing a mask is a public witness of our desire to care for others.
Wearing a mask shows that we seek to love our neighbor.

When Jesus spoke of sheep and goats being separated based on behaviors, he spoke of how we are to be more like the sheep... to care for those, the least of these, in our community. He gave us example and instruction on how to live our faith publicly in ways that benefit others. Because, as he named, to do so... to feed, clothe, visit and provide for those in need... we are serving Jesus himself.

I was hungry and you fed me,
I was thirsty and you gave me a drink,
I was living with health concerns... and you wore a mask to keep me safe.

We wear our masks as a way of living out this faith, this understanding. We wear them to care for others, not knowing if we could inadvertently make someone sick. We wear them because we are called to love one another.

With the news of increasing COVID cases nationwide, countless new hotspots where the virus is being transmitted in communities that are opening up once again, we are also seeing a vast number of our neighbors who are forgoing the safety that a mask can provide.

And we are being called once again to live more fully the faith which we embody.

To open up our homes to those who have lost theirs.
To share our food, our clothing and other resources with those who are in need.
To show up with chainsaws to clear away debris.
These are significant examples of loving our neighbor.

And yet, so is wearing a mask.

Jesus said to the goats; "Whenever you failed to do one of these things to someone who was being overlooked or ignored, that was me -- you failed to do it to me."

In this situation... let's be more like the sheep than the goats.
Let's love our neighbors in simple and extraordinary ways.
Let's diminish the virus' spread.
And let's take steps toward a healthier existence for all.

Wear a mask
Wash your hands
Distance yourself physically from others (though stay socially connected)

Love your neighbors.
Love Jesus.

And the world will be a better place.

The Cycle Itself is Abusive

In my formative years, our family was subject to recurring abuse at the hands of a very angry, very violent man. I say hands, even though at times there was also gunshot in our home, though never at one of us... always used as a form of intimidation. My stepfather was, and probably still is, a very violent, dangerous man.

I lived under the same roof with him until leaving for college... and for a small amount of time when I returned, before finding a place of my own. 

The abuse was chronic.

It was violent.

Destructive.

Painful.

Emotionally scarring.

Non-discriminatory.

And it was cyclical... woven tightly with times of counterfeit joy and meaningless "love." One day we were a happy, midwestern, small town family. And the next, we were screaming out in pain or frantically calling the cops.

And the cycle continued over the years because my mother felt either trapped by her abuser (and is still with him today), or she believed him when he said he was "sorry," and that it would never happen again. She believed that he had changed. 

Nothing changed.

His claiming remorse for the abuse was an employment of the power he held over us. You see, for an abuser, there's great pride in being able to maintain an environment where they are able to abuse the same person (or persons) over and over again. Because to have to seek out a new target for their violent rage would be too costly for them... better to stay focused on the victim (or victims) they have. And if it means appeasing the victims from time to time, throwing them a bone of false love and false hope in order to get them to stay in the abusive environment, then that's what happens.

He apologized. 

She forgave him.

And we just waited until the next time fists flew before doing it all over again.

I've not been overly public with the details of this abuse-ridden chapter of my life. I've shared details with some... not many. 

And I do not share them with you today so that you may coddle me or feel sorry for me. I love you all and I appreciate it if that is your first inclination. However, what I am saying today is not about me. It is about something much larger.

I share my story in an effort to shine light on a pattern of abuse that I feel parallels in some ways the experiences we are witnessing in the lives of countless numbers of our black neighbors across the nation. I share my story as an illustration in discussing the systemic abuse endured by those in the black community and the at-times inauthentic response they receive from those saying they "have changed." 

I was abused by an individual. 

They have an entire system weaponized against them. 

I share my story with you in response to what I am seeing play out in our nation over the past few days. And what I know has been playing out across this land for hundreds of years.

Using my own story as a metaphor... replace my mother and I with members of the black communities across our nation and insert for my step-father, the systems of white supremacy that were set into motion the moment non-native feet stepped foot on this land. 

The abuse in both stories sadly include fists and guns. However, for the narrative of abuse enacted on our black siblings, the list of weapons is much longer, not to mention quite often less visible. As I mentioned... they have an entire system weaponized against them.

And just as my abuser would occasionally transition from Hyde to Jeckyll, we are seeing modern-day examples coming from systems of abuser in our communities. 

Police are joining with protestors in the streets.

Police took a knee.

And their actions are met largely with applause.

Because they're sorry. 

Because they are showing remorse.

Because they are making promises that things are going to change.

And... these actions may very well be sincere. God knows I pray they are. 

And I've also seen how this has played out in the past. 

So what do we do? How do we navigate this thin space between abuse and reconciliation? 

We watch.

We wait.

We hold accountable those who proclaim a changed heart.

We may forgive... though that very well could be the work for another day.

We remind those who have suffered abuse that it is not their fault. 

We continue to show them... truly SHOW them that they are loved.

We listen to their stories and we show up to stand by their side.

And we stay committed... because the type of systemic change that we seek is not going to happen overnight. 

And those who have enacted the abuse? Well... 

They are going to have to work damn hard to gain anyone's trust. 

Because the cycle itself is abusive and we have all seen it spin round before. 

We will let them know that the cycle must stop... that we will no longer tolerate violence enacted upon black bodies. Period!

It is beyond time to break the cycle and work alongside those who seek to break free from its abuse. 

So let's get to work! Let's bring some accountability to the experience. 

Because the cycle itself is abusive. And it must be stopped!