Month: June 2020

Gifts In A Time of Pandemics: Anger

Anger follows hurt. We experience pain, then anger. We expect fairness. We expect welcome rather than rejection. We expect to be seen, to be acknowledged, and our basic needs recognized and affirmed. We expect our lives to be valued. Our humanity expects these things. At the heart of all these expectations, we expect love—to be loved and to love. From love flows mercy, justice, and faithfulness. Our humanity is trampled upon when these are not present. And we respond with anger and a desire and a need for what is wrong to be made right, that “justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.” We cannot go on under conditions devoid of justice without taking action.

When Jesus came into the temple, he saw the injustice. He saw that what was meant to be a house of prayer had become a “den of robbers.” In anger, he made a “whip of cords” (John 2:15) and “drove out all who were selling and buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves.” (Matthew 21:12-13) In the streets of our cities, police cars have been overturned.

We learn what replaced the selling and the buying and the money changers, in the next verse (Matthew 21:14): “The blind and the lame came to Jesus in the temple, and he cured them.” Envision for our present moment: Police violence against black and brown bodies replaced by acts of healing.

Anger, of course, can simply lash out and accomplish little more than additional pain. And those on the outside of the pain can simply judge its futility. But if the pain underneath the anger is received with compassion (rather than with judgment and self-righteousness) healing is available. I think of the judgment that gets directed at looters and those who damage property when openness to the pain would provide another view. (Take a step toward being open and the help for being open will be there because the Spirit of God is about opening our hearts and giving us eyes to see.) Rather than simply seeing the destructive behavior of individuals, we will see a society that has been crafted and structured by white supremacy and racism, from slavery to Jim Crow to the present “new Jim Crow.” We, who are white, will see our racism rather than be fixated on broken store windows. We will see the racism and greed and indifference that have historically robbed people of ownership within our society, disenfranchised them, cut off opportunity, brought death, and provided a framework within which destructive action makes sense. I saw a video clip of a couple of protesters, seeing a man with a bat in front of a store window, go over to the man and gently lead him away from the action he was contemplating, and then put their arms around him in an act of understanding and solidarity. Compassion has an altogether different mode of operation from that of self-righteous judgment.

When compassion responds to and takes up misdirected anger and redirects it, healing and liberation happen. A little compassion, like a little faith that can move mountains, is powerful. God is in it.

Love can use anger in powerful and purposeful ways. It can help focus on and target what needs to be addressed. Anger is a strong and urgent emotion carrying within it the pain from which it arises, and harnessed by compassion zeros in on the present moment with imperativeness. It takes what love clarifies and gives it emotional urgency. Love—caring enough to attend to the depth of the problem and to gain knowledge—gives rise to solutions. Anger presses us with “why we cannot wait” for the solutions. Change must come now! Jesus saw the temple turned into a den of robbers and immediately acted.

A police force (along with carefully manufactured laws) that historically has been used to “dominate” (using our president’s term) black lives, must be dismantled. It needs to be replaced with that which can truly serve. I am grateful for those who have been rethinking what makes for public safety, who are “dreaming dreams and seeing visions” for something radically different from what we have now. “Defund the police” puts before us, with urgency, the kind of change that must happen: Defund the present police organizations with their militarization and their “us against them” mentality and their opposition to reform. Funds freed up by decreasing police functions become funds for social services, mental health care and housing for the homeless (rather than have police break up their encampments), treatment (rather than criminalization) for those with addictions, and health care, education, job training, community organizations, and community mediation. My local grocery store was one of the few grocery stores on the southeast side of Chicago that was not looted. It was not the police that stopped the looting, but neighborhood residents who essentially talked potential looters out of looting. And this was going on with other stores, as well. They were saved from being looted by the mediation efforts of the community. Contrast this with what we have come to expect from police in such situations, with their oppositional relationship to the community. It is time to defund the present “public safety” institutions and build and fund something more holistic and compassionate and embedded in the community.

For those who would immediately dismiss “defunding” as an impossibility, a sign of hope came from the Minneapolis city council when they voted to dismantle the police force. They decided that the “current policing system could not be reformed.” They pledged “to begin the process of taking apart the Police Department as it now exists.” (New York Times)

The pandemics of the coronavirus and racism have both brought forth anger, in different ways. In either case, we are helped by becoming aware of the pain underneath the anger, acknowledging it, and recognizing where that pain is actually coming from, so that we do not misdirect our anger. Love of ourselves and others helps us with that. The freedom of love gives a healing, liberating direction to our anger as we address the causes of the pain.

Filed under: Grace, Justice, Love, RacismTagged with: , ,

Gifts In A Time of Pandemics: Pain

I have heard recovering addicts say, “When the pain got bad enough, I reached out for help.”

Pain is a gift. We are glad we have it when we have touched a hot stove and it has us quickly remove our hand. Pain has us seek help; it gets us to a doctor. Emotional pain alerts us to the effects of actions we have taken that are destructive to our well-being. It tells us it is time to make a change. Emotional pain also alerts us to the effects of others’ actions that are hurtful to our well-being. Such pain may have us make decisions to disengage from situations and people for the sake of our health or to engage in a manner that retains our humanity, sense of self, and purpose.

We are in the midst of a coronavirus pandemic that is causing pain. We also continue to experience a pandemic with a much longer history, spanning the existence of our nation: the pandemic of racism and white supremacy. In the wake of the killing of George Floyd, African Americans, in great numbers, along with allies, are sharing their pain, not only of this one instance of racist action but the accumulated pain of layer upon layer of injustices. They have brought their pain into the streets and into white spaces. They have placed it before a nation. The sharing of their pain is a gift—especially to those of us who are white. We need to feel their pain or, if not, feel the pain of disruption, of no more business as usual. We may be pressed into making changes.

Gifts, of course, are meant to be received. But they first must be recognized as a gift. For addicts, pain is not readily recognized as a gift. It is often another reason to self-medicate, to cover up the pain—until it gets bad enough. Elsewhere in posts of this blog, I have referred to racism as an addiction. It fits the many aspects of addictive behavior. What does it take for those of us, who are white, to acknowledge our racism and to acknowledge the effects of that racism on the criminal justice system? What does it take to acknowledge the deep disparities in the way the system operates in relation to people of color over against those who receive “privileges” because of their white skin?

The coronavirus pandemic has highlighted the racial disparities in our nation. The protests in our streets are highlighting the systemic racism that is the foundation of these disparities. Both the coronavirus and the virus of racism bring pain. That pain will move out to every sector of our society. After all, in one way or another, we are all connected. There is no place to hide.

How great does the pain have to be for us to change? How long will we encounter the pain of others and turn away? How long will we support the disparities and injustices? What will it take before those of us who are white acknowledge that it is our racism that has built and maintained unjust policies and institutions and that it is racism that allows us to leave unaddressed the injustices? Racism and the history of white supremacy have built the unjust criminal justice system that we have today. We, who acknowledge this, have to be a part of dismantling it and rebuilding a just way of operating. And we will have to be vigilant to keep building toward justice.

Like all addictions, racism denies there is a problem or that the problem is that bad—until the denial is acknowledged to be a symptom of the addiction. The pain of our addiction and what our addiction produces calls for change. The Spirit is in that call for change. It is a call to repent.

Repentance is simply a turning from the direction we have been going so that we now walk in a way of healing and liberation and new life. It is a spiritual act because the Spirit of God is present to help us. The only true repentance, understood spiritually, is from death to life, from spiritual death (the loss of love) to the One who is Life Itself, to the Love that frees us.

Filed under: Racism, SufferingTagged with: , ,