Policies and People: How to be a Good White Person?

Once, for a job, I had to tell a transgender person that the policy of the place where I worked was to live by their birth gender. 

I said this after talking to this person for an hour. 

I said this after a year of knowing about this person but never having spoken to this person before. 

I said this even though this person did not disclose being transgender to me. 

I said this because I was told to say it. 

I still feel ashamed. That's not what love looks like. 

You see, there are people and there are policies. You can have a policy, but you can't treat people like policies. I did not know them. By speaking out against them, I betrayed their trust, I made them feel afraid and defensive, and I demonstrated judgment. And I just don't think that's what Jesus would have done. 

Jesus led through relationships. He created change through relationships. He opened doors for difficult or awkward conversation through, you guessed it, relationships. 

By having that conversation, I did not communicate love or understanding. What I communicated was that a group of people had been talking about them behind their backs and had sent me as a spokesperson. I, a stranger, knew one of the most personal qualities about them. And, by speaking out against that quality without a relationship first, I nearly guaranteed myself that I would never have a relationship with them. I saw the pain in their eyes. 

I feel that same shame now. Navigating people and policies is so difficult, especially when you have close relationships on all sides of the spectrum. 

I have not been in any way hidden about my sentiments toward our current leader. Those sentiments have not shifted toward the positive in the past four years. In fact, his behavior, his tweets, and his constant fire-poking toward increased hatred and violence have only pushed me further into the political sphere when I once was not in any way interested. I have seen the impact on all ages, as his language use and behaviors validated voices of hate and made them socially acceptable. 

Hear me, these sentiments were already alive and well, but they had not previously been given an allowance to be communicated aloud without condemnation. The impact was immediate--I saw it wash over my small town, and I see it here in my larger city. I see the influence of those behaviors on the day to day of his people. 

Voting for him on a one or two policy ballot is irresponsible and dangerous, as the effects of his humanity are widening the gap of our country. It actually does matter who a person is in their real lives, especially when they broadcast a constant spew of hate and violence speak in such a non-stop, public way. Yeah, guys, his twitter really does matter. You may believe in God using unholy people for holy purposes. He is not creating holy outcomes. Not at all. 

This weekend, he has chosen to come to visit Tulsa, Oklahoma for the largest indoor even since the beginning of the pandemic. It is the 99th anniversary of the Tulsa Race Massacre, and tomorrow is Juneteenth (Freedom Day). Many Republicans (and family members) have claimed that this date selection was done in ignorance. His tweets suggest otherwise. 

This decision caused another tense internal debate between policies and people. This rally is in the midst of a second wave of virus reports, this rally is on an extremely important African American holiday, this rally is in the midst of race/police brutality protests all over the nation. My policy, as an introvert and someone who wants to be socially responsible, is to avoid large public gatherings. However, my humanity calls for action. I cannot be another Millenial to claim I care and allow that only go so far as to post online about it. But how do I prevent him from using a peaceful protest somehow in his favor? How do I avoid the violence which may be incited by his trigger-happy behaviors and the equally trigger-happy behaviors of his aggressive followers and white supremacists? How do I show up without somehow making the equally heinous Millenial mistake of acting only long enough to get the photo op or make something very much not about me, about me? How can I speak out without drawing attention to me and not the issue? How do I be an ally? How do I be a good white person? 

After a week of massive backlash, he moved his rally date to the day after Juneteenth. 

I told myself that it was only that which made me worked up enough to entertain the idea of attending a protest. But I don't think I could live with myself if I stand on the wrong side of humanity on this one. Remaining silent is to be complicit. It's to communicate that his behaviors, his lies, his location choice, his calculated language use as it relates to race and riots, and his presence in my city during a pandemic, national crisis, and grim anniversary, is acceptable. It is not acceptable. 

The policy is free speech. But that policy is being abused and manipulated to allow a stampede of the people. It flies in the face of our African American groups here, to the families of victims of Greenwood, and even of the health and safety of his followers. 

My sentiments have marked me as an extremist to many members of my family. In conversations, I immediately alienate myself. But Jesus threw tables in the temple. He cracked a whip, in fact. There are times when righteous anger is appropriate. I would rather alienate myself on behalf of humanity than disgrace myself with defending the degeneration occurring now with ideals of single-ballot issues. How is it less pro-life to defend the full lifecycle than it is merely to defend birth rates? I cannot reconcile it. 

We are still navigating the safest road to take, but safe is also not Jesus. Justice is Jesus. Truth is Jesus. Standing beside the oppressed is Jesus. Resisting evil is Jesus. So we will shut our mouths and put on masks and stand alongside our brothers and sisters in solidarity and, with hope, peace. We will listen to the stories of both joy and pain. And we will be there as a physical demonstration that balance and justice are necessary for trust. We are going because we don't know what else to do and it is no longer an option for us to sit back and watch from our place of privilege. 

The Orange Ceiling

It's been three weeks since the election results, and I still can't come to grips with what has happened.

I woke up on November 9th feeling lost and grieved. Texts from friends across the world flooded my phone with fear and empathy and horror. Oh God, what have we done?

In my office and in my family, I hear people talk of his policies. That's how they justified casting their vote for the Grabber. At best, I hear the phrase, "lesser of two evils." At worst, I hear actual praise of him. My heart is grieved to its very core that this is who we've become.

They say it's not about who they are as a person; it's about what they will do in policy.

In my job, I am known as the "face" of the university.
I dress, walk, talk, and make myself think as such. No matter where I go, no matter what I do--especially when I am on the job--I am conscious of  that responsibility.
I may be the best at my job, the most thorough and practically compassionate, but if my words and behavior are ugly, then that is what people see and what people will believe the university I stand for is.

In the same way, the principle is true across the globe. They see him first. They hear him first. My God, follow the man on Twitter if you don't understand my point. We are being led by a hissy-fit of a man.

My Hispanic minority friends are afraid.
My LGBTQ minority friends are afraid.
My foreign friends are afraid.
My female friends are afraid.

Just before the election, I was in a Walmart and was sexually harassed. These guys just followed me through the whole store cat-calling and making comments and laughing to themselves because they saw how clearly uncomfortable they were making me.

When I got back in the car, I had myself a long, angry rant. Right now, we have a president who has made decisions I do not always agree with, but I know, at the end of the day, he is a good man who promotes kindness and mutual respect.
The man who is now our president elect has been caught on camera bragging about how he can do whatever he wants to women because he is a powerful man.

Any God-fearing man who can imagine himself explaining what "grabbing [a woman] by the pu**y" to their young daughter means when she asks and can still put himself behind that man is a disgrace.

Adults should know better. They may use a truly awful man to justify their choices, but kids don't know any better. The leaders of our country help shape who they become. We now have chosen a model for behavior that communicates to them that sexual misconduct and disrespect is normal and acceptable in society, just as long as you're in the power seat.

We have a Republican house and senate. They hate Hillary enough that they would have curbed anything nutty. Now, though, we have an absolute whack-job in the hot seat of the same party. A man who got grounded from his Twitter account in the final days of the election because he was making a fool of himself is now in charge of the nuclear codes.

I hope to God I am wrong. I hope his unbelievably horrendous behavior is beaten out of him as the reality of this new position sinks in. Until then, we pray, we seek peace, we choose not to completely lose it in political conversations with our families, and we hope tomorrow will be different.

Finders Keepers

I really enjoy plans. The actually planning aspect of plans could happily be delegated to somebody else, but I do so enjoy putting plans into a schedule and following through with them.

Accordingly, I dislike being spontaneous. It's erratic and there's no sense of reason. I can't control it.

That makes my decisions of the day a little shocking. I had coffee (I think I use the term "had coffee" as a generic "spent time in a public location" term. There was no coffee involved) with my friend Layden today. Near the end of our talk, he mentioned a conference happening tomorrow and told me I should come.

Next thing I knew, I was signed up.

So, this will probably be my last post for a few days, as I will be staying in Kansas with my buddy Steve and his family for this very Charismatic conference.

A year ago, I would have thrown a fit about going to anything related to the International House of Prayer (IHOP). I grew up Assemblies of God and, therefore, charismatic, but there was a massive break between myself and my church (I may have mentioned all this before, but I am going to again. Feel free to skip).

After a very, very long period of unhappiness and hurt, I left my church at the age of 17, and spent the next few years meandering from Catholic (there was a boy involved), Presbyterian (there was a boy involved), and Methodist (there was probably a boy involved).

Among other things, my AG church just stopped feeling real to me. I stopped believing in its sincerity, and I felt personally its inconsistency, though I'm sure my own wretched attitude didn't help my likability factor. I saw the way they rejected people I loved but weren't put together, favoritized and rewarded those who were, and seemed to make church a game of conversion and numbers.

So there was that, and my brother, who I regard (especially at that time) as my spiritual role model, wrote a series of blog posts admitting to the same things I already felt unsure about. To be very frank, hearing it from Jon especially really messed me up, even though he was writing in an attempt to salvage for himself pieces of our pentecostal upbringing.

I was bitter. And I held on to that bitterness for so so so long. I even wrote a paper in college about my disbelief in the practices of IHOP, specifically taught prophecy, or "prophecy rooms."

An awful fault of mine--and one I've been working for several years to alter--is the way, once I am deeply hurt, to cut off, throw in a box, and bury everything related to the issue at hand. All the good, all the bad. It's all thrown away to be remembered no more. I've done it so many times.

That means when I "threw away" my church, I threw away the Holy Spirit as well.

Those who grew up in non-Pentecostal churches wouldn't be able to fully understand the degree to which this would impact a person.

For those 17 years, the Holy Spirit's manifestations and that church were my life.  I was there more than I wasn't there. All my major memories have to do with that church. I was throwing away an enormous part of my life and identity.

Even in my anger, though, I couldn't bring myself to a place of disbelief. I stopped praying in tongues, couldn't bring myself to lay hands or pray for anyone's healing, and never agreed to participate in any kind of spiritually led exhortation (prophecy).

But yet, something in me would erupt in anger if anyone spoke against those same gifts. I remember a particular day in Evangelical Theology class where an AG pastor was guest speaking and the girl in front of me attacked him and attacked him. I was mad with fury. But I couldn't defend him either.

The Holy Spirit in me, so hidden that I didn't remember it, was what called out telling me those attacks were wrong.

Still, I couldn't do it. Any of it.

I didn't return to the Charismatic church at all until I moved to Belfast. I wrote in support of it many blog posts ago, but it really, really bothered me at the same time. You can believe something is real but still not be able to reconcile yourself on a personal level what it looks like lived out.

Then one day, I finally understood.

All those pieces of Woodlake that broke my heart or rejected me. All those pieces that broke and rejected my best friend. All the ways I was let down, felt lied to, felt exploited by, Jesus wasn't in it. The Holy Spirit wasn't in it.

At the same time, there are things I have seen and heard and experienced which are not of this world. I have heard the voice of the Lord through the spirit language and translation of old, feeble men resound through the absolute silent sanctuary and felt the ripples of electric presence pulse through the air. I have spoken in my own spiritual language and known that what I was speaking was the truest form of my own soul. I have dreamt things that I couldn't possibly have known. I have seen healing.

That's where the Holy Spirit is.

When I got there with myself, to that place of recognizing and sorting the truth from the lies, everything changed for me. I felt like the prodigal son received back into his father's arms and home. So right. And the separation terribly long and unnecessary.

I'm still going to have moments of cynicism, thinking everything is a performance and disingenuous, but I'm never going to lose that integral part of myself again, that I know.

So, I am going to this conference. Time to spend playtime with my friends, experience Jesus with thousands of believers, and take a serious break from the monotonous, boring pattern of just trying to stay in the black with my emotional state. It's fun. Spontaneous. Different. And distraction from my circular thoughts.

6/29/12-Living Out of Forgiveness

I have felt very convicted about something this summer. And it’s a thing that I was very convicted about during the school year as well, but in a different sense. Then, I was merely convicted to seek out the forgiveness and to forgive those who had wronged me/I had wronged. Now, I am convicted about the way I have lived my life afterward .

You see, when you forgive someone, the responsibility then becomes yours. You no longer have a reason to be angry or resentful. Because you have forgiven them. 

Because of that, the way that you speak about and behave toward that person should be markedly different. 

Mine has not been.

Even though I am no longer angry, I continue to speak in a vile manner with anyone who brings up the subject. Why? Because I am being sanctified; I am no saint. Although I strive toward righteousness, it is very easy to engage  in sick human pleasures such as gossip. Sometimes because it is the only way that certain groups of people can find to relate to one another: through trashing a common enemy. 

To quote Relient K: “I’m part of the problem, I confess. But I gotta get this off my chest. Let’s extinguish the anguish for which we’re to blame, and save the world from going down in flames.” 

Christians, such as myself, ought to be characterized by our love. Not by this.