How Long O Lord?

"Lord, how long will I call for help and you not listen? I cry out to you, 'Violence!' but you don't deliver us. Why do you show me injustice and look at anguish so that devastation and violence are before me? There is strife, and conflict abounds. The Instruction is ineffective. Justice does not endure because the wicked surround the righteous. Justice becomes warped." - Habakkuk 1:2-4

Last night the verdict was read in the case against Darren Wilson, the white Ferguson police officer who shot and killed an unarmed 18 year old black youth named Michael Brown.
That verdict was the product and the result of hundreds of years of racial oppression, subjugation and segregation that underlines, scores and marks the fabric our nation, our communities and our relationships to this day.

This day, Today.
Today is a painful reminder of just how long the moral arc of the universe really is.
Today many brothers and sisters of color have woken up from the hope of justice and returned to the bleak reality of systemic racism that puts a price on their life and a millstone around their neck.

Today many continue to remark that #blacklivesmatter. However, making the proclamation more often than not feels like shouting into the void.
Yes, #blacklivesmatter.

Yes, #blacklivesmatter. They matter to black people, they matter to me, they even matter to other white people even in the face of the overwhelming evidence to the contrary.

This is perhaps the most difficult aspect of that proclamation. That even while I proclaim #blacklivesmatter I know that the devaluation of those lives is a very real, persistent, and present threat.

As a nation we need our "come to Jesus" moment. We idle in the sin of racial injustice, too many made comfortable by its false promises. For most white folks, today we wake up and it is business as usual. No assumptions have been challenged, no hearts convicted. We continue to idle in sin while our brothers and sisters cry out, and many of us have the audacity to discount their cries, as if their pain is the true violence which shakes us.

So warped has sin made us that the reality of trials such as this one is that it is in fact the dead who are put on trial. Those who cannot respond for themselves are assessed of their innocence or guilt. Those who cannot give testimony to their version of events are expected to have their full perspective represented by the one who killed them. The result, more often than not, is that the dead are found guilty. The dead deserved to die. Michael Brown needed to die. He was dangerous, though he was unarmed, he was a threat to white lives, and he had to die. What other conclusion can be drawn from a refusal to indict?

By affirming Darren Wilson's decision to kill Michael Brown, the Grand Jury asserted two very powerful messages: Michael's death was justified; #blacklivesdon'tmatter

What other lesson is there for young people, white and black alike, looking in to discern how they should best relate to one another?

That's what hurts the most. Black lives are devalued every time this happens. Black lives are proven to be less valuable than those of their white neighbors, and thus the cycle of violence, systemic violence, marches on.

Indeed, Justice does not endure because the wicked surround the righteous. Justice becomes warped.

Today justice has been warped, delayed, subverted, denied.

Today we again wait for the moral arc of the universe to bend toward justice.

But now it's not for Michael Brown, not for Eric Garner, or Trayvon Martin, Ezell Ford, Orlando Barlow, Oscar Grant, Renisha McBride, Dante Parker, Jordan Davis, John Crawford, Alonzo Ashley, Kimani Gray, Danta Price, Steven Eugene Washington, Victor Steen, Sean Bell, Aiyana Stanley-Jones, Wendell Allen, Aaron Campbell, Kendrec McDade, Bo Morrison, Timothy Stansbury Jr., Timothy Russell, Jerean Blake, Jonathan Ferrell, Amandou Diallo, Ervin Jefferson, Angelo Clark, Steven Rodriguez, Johnnie Kamahi Warren, Nehemiah Dillard, Stephen Watts, Michael Lembhard, Tendai Nhekairo, Manuel Loggins Jr., Rekia Boyd, Melvin Lawhorn, Marquez Smart, Patrick Dorismond, James Brissette, Jersey Green, Ousmane Zongo, Duane Brown, Justin Sipp, Christopher Kissane, Raymond Allen, Travares McGill, or Sheron Jackson,

Now we wait for Tamir Rice, a twelve year old black child killed by police.

How long O Lord?

Dear Philemon

Philemon

"Therefore, though I have enough confidence in Christ to command you to do the right thing, I would rather appeal to you through love. I, Paul—an old man, and now also a prisoner for Christ Jesus— appeal to you for my child Onesimus. I became his father in the faith during my time in prison. He was useless to you before, but now he is useful to both of us. I’m sending him back to you, which is like sending you my own heart."

I've long struggled with Philemon, the shortest "book" in the bible, a personal letter between Paul and Philemon. It's a letter that is difficult to make sense of, mostly due to the nature of its writing. Paul is writing to Philemon on behalf of Philemon's slave, Onesimus. Paul appeals to Philemon's status as a Christian, as someone who has demonstrated their ability to "refresh the hearts of the saints," to give care to fellow Christians. Paul encourages Philemon, reminding him of what a great guy he is and what great authority Paul has but chooses not to use.

There is so much that I want Paul to say to Philemon, but he doesn't. I want Paul to tell Philemon that his treatment of Onesimus determines the very outcome of his relationship with God. I want Paul to tell Philemon that his salvation relies on how far he lets the love of Christ transform his life. I want Paul to tell Philemon that slavery, the system that has supported the growth of nearly every empire in history, is antithetical to the Gospel. However, I find Paul's exhortation silent, sheepish, appealing when I so want Paul to be loud, bold, and sharp.

I struggle with this passage because I think of how many people have laid down their lives to make the world a more just place. In particular I think of those who have laid down their lives for others out of their faithfulness to the kingdom of God. I think of people in the past 100 years like Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Dorothy Day, Oscar Romero, Mother Theresa, Desmond Tutu, and Nelson Mandela. None who have laid down their lives for the sake of justice have been apologetic in their approach (this is primarily why some of them literally lost their lives). I think of people like Martin Luther King Jr. in his letter from a Birmingham jail. In this letter, like Paul, he too writes to fellow Christians, fellow preachers, those who have a pulpit and are responsible for the refreshing of the saints. Some of the most memorable quotes of Dr. King come from this letter: "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere," "We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny." At times Dr. King's letter is cordial but there is a tone in his letter that speaks to the harmful choices and beliefs of the clergy he writes.

My favorite quote from this letter is not one of the more famous ones, but consists of two paragraphs toward the end that addresses the tone Dr. King truly has taken with his fellow clergy:

"Never before have I written so long a letter. I'm afraid it is much too long to take your precious time. I can assure you that it would have been much shorter if I had been writing from a comfortable desk, but what else can one do when he is alone in a narrow jail cell, other than write long letters, think long thoughts and pray long prayers?
If I have said anything in this letter that overstates the truth and indicates an unreasonable impatience, I beg you to forgive me. If I have said anything that understates the truth and indicates my having a patience that allows me to settle for anything less than brotherhood, I beg God to forgive me."

It is that last paragraph that elevates Dr. King's position from one of morality to salvation. It is this last paragraph wherein Dr. King makes clear that the intent of this letter is not cordiality, or gentleness. This is a matter of the soul, where lives are at stake. To ask for anything less than absolute equality, as brothers and sisters, equality as children of God, would be to sin against God, would be antithetical to the saving grace of Jesus Christ. 

I'm so frustrated with Paul in his letter to Philemon because I want him to be clear that Onesimus' value is inherently derived from the will of God, that in Christ all are equal, all are of sacred worth. Paul spends so much time easing Philemon into the notion that this is the correct way of thinking that he leaves too much room for ambiguity. Perhaps I am more frustrated with never knowing Philemon's response. Does Philemon do the right thing? I would like to believe that Onesimus arrives at Philemon's home and Philemon drops to his knees, asks forgiveness and embraces Onesimus as a brother, as a fellow child of God. But I know the radical nature of this request. This one lesson that Paul attempts to gently teach would break down the very foundations of the Roman empire, would subvert every teaching from Roman philosophical thinking and would entirely reverse the social norms of his culture.

We find evidence of this subversion when we look at what Romans thought of the early church. The early church was derided by Roman authorities and thinkers because it was primarily made up of the poor, women, and slaves. The message of grace, equality and salvation spoke to the hearts of those who were "divinely" ordered at the bottom. 

Perhaps I'm being too harsh. After all, Paul gave his own life for the kingdom and this message, though gentle, is quite radical. I suspect that Paul gave no thought to the long reaching consequences of his words, that they would be considered scripture, or that they would be read in instruction across thousands of years.

Paul concludes his letter saying, "Confident of your obedience, I am writing to you, knowing that you will do even more than I say."

I hope that Paul is right. I hope that we, as the church, would seek greater justice and reconciliation beyond what Paul has said. I hope that we will continue to recognize and uplift the brokenness of our world, those who bare crosses among us, whose lives are denied their inherent sacred worth. I pray that in our pursuit of a more just world, a world that more closely resembles the kingdom of God, that we never understate the truth, or indicate that we have patience that allows us to settle for anything less than all as beloved children of God. For if we do, I beg God to forgive us.