Embracing Diversity

     I’ve always been a little “different.” Before your mind wanders too far down that trail, here’s what I mean: I have never really fit into just one group. Call it a gift or whatever you want to call it, but I have always been able to see life through someone else’s lens. No matter what differences are on the surface, tell me your story as we spend time together, and I’ll begin to see just a glimpse of life through your lens. Now, while I have come to see this as a God-given gift in my life that I am truly trying to embrace, it is simultaneously frustrating. It is frustrating because not ALL people see or approach differences in this way.

     Most often, we tend to gravitate towards people who have the same interests as us and maybe even look a little bit like us. You can see this in almost any public setting, but the high school cafeteria is my favorite analogy here. Walk into almost any given high school’s cafeteria at lunch time and you will see the “band nerds,” “the jocks,” “the cheerleaders,” “the punks,” “the skaters,” etc., etc. I, of course, was the weird kid who sat with a different group almost daily. Don’t get me wrong. I had my preferred group that I liked to spend my time with, but if you know me well, you know that I have an eclectic mix of interests and that I get bored very easily if I’m locked into too much of a routine.

     But back to this image of the stereotypical high school cafeteria. What’s wrong with this picture? Simply put: it shows disunity and it shows how we are often inclined to gravitate towards those like us. That creates a problem. If we are only spending our time with those with similarities to us, than what happens when our lives intersect with one who is different? We see them as “different.” We may see them as an “enemy.” More often than not, we may become agitated at the individual, we may shut down, we may belittle the “other,” the list goes on.

     Unfortunately, this mindset often spills into our churches. Many of our American churches today are not very diverse. I can count on one hand how many local churches I feel are actually diverse (and I’m not talking just racially/ethnically here). However, this is a sad number when it is compared to the number of church communities I have been to in my life. In the American Church (at large) today, we often disregard differences, rather than embrace them. Oftentimes, churches that are only separated by a square block see each other as competition. Denominations boast, “our denomination is better than yours.” “We write each other off because “THEY believe this, but WE do this” or “THEY do this, but WE do that.” And this “us versus them” mentality is a problem. This is disunity.”

     Jesus spoke to this matter in the Gospel of Luke. One of his disciples, John, came to him and said, “Master, we found this fellow casting out demons. He said he was doing it in Your name, but he’s not one of OUR group. So we told him to stop.” Jesus replied, “No! Don’t think like that! Whoever is not working against you is working with you” (Luke 9:49-50, The Voice, emphasis mine). This brief scenario reminds me of how we often approach our differences within our American society at large, but specifically within the body of Christ. We, the Church, often have John’s outlook: “they’re not one of US, so we told them to stop; we told them to get lost; we told them we couldn’t work together.” Rather, we should have the heart of Jesus in this matter: “whoever is not against you is with you; embrace the differences because each part of my bride, the Church, has unique gifts that work better together, not separated from each other.”

     What if we approached ALL within the body of Christ this way, no matter what the difference(s) may be? What if, instead of focusing on philosophical or minor theological differences, we began to see that we, the Church, are all united in Christ and, for that reason alone, we should work together? What if we tore down the walls of classification – the jocks; the band nerds; the punks; the Methodists; the Baptists; the Lutherans; the Catholics; those who identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, or straight; black; white; etc., etc. – and simply followed the words of Jesus here in Luke 9:50? What would it look like if we truly embraced our differences and truly strived for unity?

Worrying: Would It Help?

      I recently watched the film Bridge of Spies. This blog’s objective aside, I highly recommend this movie for several reasons. Staying on target, there is a line in the movie that sticks out to me. In his interactions with the “Colonel” (Rudolph Abel), Jim Donavan asks him the question, “Do you never worry?” Abel humbly responds with a question, “would it help?”

     Abel’s response is very Jesus-like, if you ask me. He simply responded to a question with another question. In doing so, he hits on a subject in which Jesus addressed at least a few times in his teaching back in the day: anxiety and worry.

     The story in Luke 10:38-42 specifically sticks out in my mind. In this short story, you have two sisters: Mary and Martha. Basically, Mary is hanging on Jesus’ every word, literally sitting at his feet. Martha is worrying about being the “perfect host” and having everything right. Martha gets pissed off at Mary not helping. Who was right? Who was wrong? Per usual, I’m not claiming an answer, but Jesus actually tells Martha, “you are so anxious and concerned about a million details, but really, only one thing matters. Mary has chosen that one thing” (Luke 10:41-42a, The Voice).

     So what can we learn from Jesus and Colonel Rudolph Abel? I believe we can simply learn not to worry. Easier said than done and I’m not proposing that you shouldn’t actively work on the details of things. I am saying, however, that we, as humans, often get caught up in the details and the perfectionism of things. This causes a downhill spiral that leads us into constant worry and anxiety. And according to Jesus and the Colonel, worrying doesn’t exactly help. In my experience, things typically fall in place when we stop worrying about the details and just trust in a bigger picture in which we usually cannot see.

     Though this blog is short and sweet this week, this principle will be easier said than done. And Christians, don’t think that saying “trust in God” is the cure-all. What are you practically doing to put your actions where your words are? We, within the body of Christ, can oftentimes easily state something to the effect of, “let go and let God,” but do our actions prove that we truly believe that? So, whether you’re more inclined to follow Jesus’ words or the Colonel’s words (or anyone else who has said something similar), I challenge you to walk away from the worries dragging you down and trust in the bigger picture that you probably aren’t seeing right now.

The Skinhead & The Crip: A Modern Good Samaritan Story

     In 10th grade, my life may very well have been saved by a black guy. What you need to know is that, at the time, I “hated” black people. At least on the outside. Rewinding to 7th grade, my family had just moved to the Charlotte area and I ended up attending a predominately African-American school in the city. I was bullied and ridiculed for the color of my skin on what was fairly close to a daily basis. There were even a few times where my life was literally put in danger. That’s the year I learned survival skills.

     Needless to say, I developed a prejudice that I had never had up to this point in my life. Unfortunately, the next three years were a living hell for my family as I began to process what happened in what would become one of my most memorable and formidable years. In actuality, I started to build a persona that came off as the “tough guy that you shouldn’t mess with.” On the inside, I wasn’t actually the guy I was portraying to be. Bitterness had taken root and began to manifest itself into hatred. So what’s a guy to do? You find others who look like what you want to portray.

     Therefore, in 10th grade, I portrayed myself as close to a Neo-Nazi as I could. In full disclosure, I didn’t hold to the same value system as a Skinhead, but the swastikas on my leather jacket and on my binders told a different story.

     To greatly reduce what could be a novel in and of itself, my friends and I found ourselves in a jam. I, being the loyal friend, was about to walk straight into a situation that most likely would have ended my life at the young age of 16. However, I received a tip from another friend that I should just head home that day. Since I had no real plan on how to get home after the planned brawl anyway, I jumped on the bus immediately after school.

     Then came the death threats for being a “—– (we’ll insert “coward” here for a more general audience’s sake) that ran from fights.” As a result, I stayed home from school for a few days, but I had received word that the death threats had disappeared. I still don’t know the full story; I’m not 100% sure what would have happened had I 1) gone to the brawl or 2) gone to school after skipping said brawl, but I was told that a friend of mine from gym class had “taken care of things.” This guy, by the way, was black. Word had it he was a Crip. This guy was the very epitome of whom my outward facade hated. He was definitely “the other” in my lens of life at the time. That’s the day my perspective and my heart began to change.

     Jesus told a similar story in Luke 10:25-37. The synopsis goes a bit like this: a guy is beaten and left for dead on the side of the road. A priest and a Levite both passed this guy, as if he wasn’t even there. But a Samaritan stopped, took care of the man’s wounds, and took him to a place for rest and further care.

     Culturally, the audience to whom Jesus was speaking hated Samaritans. Samaritans were just “half-breeds” who weren’t “fully Jewish” like the majority of Jesus’ audience; they were “scum.” They were “the other.” True to his nature, Jesus poked a hole in this prejudice. He spoke up for the Samaritans. And it’s my personal conviction that he would do the same with the African-American community today. In a lot of ways, Jesus said “Samaritan lives matter” on many instances, just as he would most likely state that, “black lives matter” today.

     This is not to say that no other lives matter. Jesus proved that “all lives matter” when he died for ALL on the cross. However, he was very clear to speak up for those who were marginalized for their race, social status, or socioeconomic status, among other things.

     So, what would it take for US to acknowledge racism, or prejudice of any kind, for that matter? To truly see life through each other’s lens? To boldly state that black lives DO matter and that we must take a stand against racism? To, as Jesus addressed in his story, see someone through the lens of love as a person, rather than through the lens of our own prejudices and biases?

     When we are able to view another through the lens of love, walls are torn down. Lines drawn by prejudice become blurred. When we are truly able to see someone (the best we can in our tainted world) without prejudice, maybe then can we begin to build bridges toward reconciliation. Maybe then can we stop countering “black lives matter” with our various hashtags and often prejudiced statements. Maybe then we can truly grab our brothers and sisters by their hands in unity. Maybe then we can truly see “the other” not as “other,” but as good…as a friend…as a sister or a brother.

Being Present

      Fun fact about me: I attended eight different schools in just twelve years! I then preceded to attend three different colleges, only obtaining two degrees. I’ve also lived in more towns and cities in my short twenty-eight years of life than many have in a lifetime. Needless to say, I’ve moved around a bit.

     In the tenth chapter of Luke’s Gospel, Jesus sends approximately seventy disciples out to spread the “good news.” Furthermore, they were instructed to not to go solo, but rather to go in pairs. He gives them many more instructions but one particular statement sticks out to me. He says to them, “Don’t move around from home to home. Stay in one place, eating and drinking what they provide” (Luke 10:7a, NLT).

     As aforementioned, I have grown accustomed to moving from one place to another, from one thing to another, etc. Prior to my third year of college, I typically ran from situations when they got tough. How I was broken of that is a different story for a different time. Two years ago, however, I instinctively felt the Lord instruct me to move to Dallas proper and dig in deep. Since then, feeling a call on my life to “spread the good news” in Deep Ellum and surrounding neighborhoods has started to take on flesh as to what that actually means for me in my own life.

     Specifically, that flesh looks a whole lot like what Jesus commanded the disciples in Luke 10:7. It doesn’t look like an agenda of trying to force “conversion” on someone. It doesn’t look like forcing my beliefs down someone’s throat. Rather, it looks like staying in one place for the long haul. It looks like fighting social injustice in the city, and specifically the communities, to which I have been welcomed. It looks like eating and drinking with my neighbors. It looks a lot like just being present with those around me.

     I don’t know your story. I don’t know if you tend to jump from place to place or whether you have lived in the same town all your life. Whether you’re an explorer or a homebody, whether you identify as a Christian, Atheist, Jew, Muslim, Agnostic, etc., no matter what your story is, I would encourage you to dig down deep in the city and communities to which you have been called. Love your city well. Fight for what your communities fight for. Share a meal with your neighbors and with those who come into your life. “Stay in one place.” Simply be present.

Experiencing the Hurt, Pain, and Loss Life Often Brings

     I have seen a lot of hurt and pain in my community the last two weeks. First, there was the Orlando massacre in the gay nightclub. A lot of my closest friends, and myself included, experienced a range of emotions from anger to mourning and everything in between. Next, was my sister’s second miscarriage. I wanted nothing more than to be physically present with her during that time, as well as clothesline a few people who spoke insensitively to her. Then there was a death of someone who was a waitress at a local restaurant that I frequent. She was young and it came completely out of left field, much like the other aforementioned instances. Needless to say, the last few weeks has been covered with a fairly dark cloud in my life.

     This week, I was reading Psalm 77, which begins with this opening statement: “I cry up to heaven, “My God, True God,” and He hears. In my darkest days, I seek the Lord” (vv. 1-2, The Voice). On one hand, this imagery is so beautiful to me during dark times. On the other hand, it is simultaneously confusing. There have been times in my own life in which I have instinctively reached out to God first in some of the darkest times of my life. There have also been times in which I have wanted absolutely nothing to do with God in the moment because I couldn’t quite grasp why the hell a “good God” could let something “so bad” happen. Maybe you can relate?

     Oftentimes, we are flooded with many more questions than we are with answers in moments such as these. Quite frankly, in times of loss, pain, and suffering, Christians can sometimes unintentionally say some of the most hurtful and unhelpful things. Quite a few of my Christian brothers and sisters, as well as colleagues in ministry would even say that it is not okay to sit in the pain, the suffering, and the questions. I wholeheartedly and respectfully disagree with this opinion.

      I could point to countless stories within the Bible itself in which we see the questions, we see the pain, and we see the suffering. I can point to countless times in my OWN life in which it was most fitting to sit in the pain, the suffering, and the questions. Personally, I would tell you to surround yourself with others and comfort each other, mourn with each other, suffer together. I would say it is okay to sit in the oxymoronic deafening quiet of the pain and I would even urge you to ask the questions. Be angry and mourn. Why? You see, there is a season of life for everything: a time to cry, a time to mourn, a time to search, a time to be quiet, a time to hate … On the other side of the coin, there is also a time to laugh, a time to dance, a time to give up as lost, and a time to love (excerpts from Ecclesiastes 3:1-8).

   But I would also tell you to seek the Lord on the darkest of days because I can clearly tell you that it has been in my darkest of days that I have seen the Lord clearest. Sure, this is extremely hard and it is perfectly fine if you disagree with me. Truth be told, I may not have necessarily always felt the Lord’s presence in the moment, but I can clearly tell you that when I look back at the darkest times in my life, He was clearly there. I may not have known it then, but He was. I cannot explain that in a scientific, or even in a profound way for that matter, but God is simply a mystery that cannot be explained. However, in my personal opinion, I see God as a beautiful mystery.

Tearing Down Walls

     The older I get, the more walls intrigue me. When I was younger, I was always curious as to what was on the other side of a wall. Now, being much taller and a little wiser, I wonder more about why the wall was constructed in the first place. Not necessarily the walls that enclose your apartment, house, or any other form of living quarters. Rather, think more along the lines of the Berlin Wall, the wall that surrounds a prison, the walls that keep you from seeing what’s on “the other side.” A church’s four walls, even.

     Over the years, I have been a part of, attended, and served on staff at various churches, too many to even begin counting. Honestly, I can only think of only one of these churches that defined true diversity. Unfortunately, the remainder had an overwhelming majority that all looked, believed, and acted similarly. This is not an indictment on these individual church bodies, as each and every one of them had many things I could speak highly of. However, it is an honest assessment of what has become of the institution of the American Church, at large.

     When my dad was called to this inner-city church as the Senior Pastor, the church was not very diverse. Through much labor of reaching out to the community and neighborhood around him, the diversity began to shift. Sure, it was painful, it was challenging, and the church eventually ran out of money and had to close their doors. Looking back at those final days, though, I see a beautiful glimpse of what I imagine heaven to be.

     You see, when I view heaven, I see diversity. Diversity in race, ethnicity, gender, likes/dislikes, backgrounds, music preferences, sexual orientation, minor theological doctrine, the list goes on. There is something – someone, rather – that unites these people: Jesus (Galatians 3:23-29).

     Faith in Jesus is higher than these differences and, oftentimes, we don’t act like it, Church. Maybe not always in our words, but our actions neglect and push people aside because they are a different race than us, they are attracted to the same gender, their biology doesn’t match their psychology, they lost their home and live on the street, they committed a crime and did time behind bars, they are a single mother, they are a teen mother, they had an abortion, etc. Did I strike a chord? These are the descriptions of people that we, Church, push out and marginalize daily. Where is our love for God and for people? Did Jesus not say that these were the two greatest commandments and everything else taught in the law of Moses and by the prophets were simply variations of these (Matthew 22:36-40)?

      What then? This is a call for repentance. A charge to tear down the walls that we so often build. Maybe you, yourself, have been marginalized by the Church. I am truly sorry for that and I have experienced that in my own life. I would ask you to not give up on the Church. Sure, she’s broken and oftentimes hateful and condemning. But aren’t we all, when it boils down to it? We all have our prejudices deep inside. Maybe you are marginalizing others by your actions. This is an opportunity for you to search deep inside and repent. After all, tearing down the walls of prejudice starts brick by brick…stone by stone…person by person.

A Whore, the Pharisees, and Jesus: Living In the Margins

     Someone once said that “you are known by the company you keep”. I don’t necessarily believe this to be true, but many people I know would tell me not to hang out with “sinners” for this very reason. Now, a “sinner” in this context is almost always defined as someone with a visible “sin,” as defined by whatever this particular person doesn’t agree with. My counter to this close-minded definition of “sin” would be that we ALL have sin in our life, even sin within the depths of our hearts that may not even be known to us. Who are you to take the place of God, judging one’s heart? But I digress. However, I would like to ask you a question: have you ever examined the life of Jesus? 

   There’s one particular story that sticks out to me. In Luke 7:36-50, Jesus is hanging out at Simon the Pharisee’s house, when a woman enters the house and starts anointing Jesus’ feet with perfume. In this story, it becomes exponentially clear that the Pharisees did not exactly agree with whom Jesus spent his time with. Simon essentially thought Jesus was a fraud due to the fact that Jesus let some “sinful woman” (in his own words) touch him. Contextually, Ancient Jews believed that when you touched something or someone unclean, you yourself were therefore unclean. In other words, this Simon guy is now viewing Jesus himself as unclean. 

     Furthermore, women weren’t exactly the “elite” of this culture. Can you imagine this scene? Essentially, there were people in this house that were probably thinking “how could this man let some unclean whorish woman touch him? He’s no son of God. He’s no prophet. He’s scum!” On a small scale, I can resonate with that.

     For me personally, I’ve been labeled “heretic,” “gay lover,” “drunk,” etc. etc. by fellow church leaders and I’ve come to this conclusion: I used to put a lot of stock in what others thought about me. Now, I couldn’t give two shits. I’m okay with the labels. Why? Because what Jesus Christ thinks and whether or not I’m honoring Christ with my life are much more important to me than what others think. And let’s be honest: Jesus would be in the bars; He would be in the gay clubs; He would be in the spaces of our culture in which American Christianity deems as “sinful.” And He would tune out the voices.

     It should not shock me when those within American Christianity automatically default to calling someone “unclean” due to the company they keep. It should not shock me when some within American Christianity outcast, judge, and condemn single moms, teenage mothers, those who identify as LGBTQIA, ex-offenders/felons, etc. The list goes on. These days, it seems that if you aren’t a white basic, traditional (whatever the hell that means) family, you’re an outcast in the church. Don’t agree? Go to almost any church worship gathering on a Sunday and survey the demographics.

     Unfortunately, in a lot of ways, American Christianity today at large, has become the new Pharisee and the Church continues to marginalize God’s creation due to a “blemish” that is quite frankly man-made. We, in the Church, are too quick to forget that we are ALL made in God’s image and are His children and His creation (Genesis 1-2).

     It’s easy to let negative voices weigh you down, but do you know what is extremely beautiful about the story in Luke’s Gospel? This “sinful woman” isn’t concerned about what others think. Do you know what, or rather who, she’s focused on? That’s right. She has her eyes fixed on Jesus. She literally gives him her very best. She anoints his feet with expensive perfume! She blocks out the naysayers and focuses solely on Jesus. How beautiful is that?

     I, myself, often get so caught up in the shaming of my fellow church leaders, that it can easily  – if I’m not careful – turn my focus off of Jesus. Now, I believe that church leaders need to be called into accountability; for that, I do not apologize. However, as a follower of Christ, I need to daily root myself in Jesus Christ and focus my eyes there. Anoint his feet with the finest perfumes I have to offer. Block out the voices of the naysayers.

     Therefore, I will continue to spend time with those that the Church shuns. I will continue to stand with and for the marginalized. I will continue to call church leaders into accountability. And above all else, I will continue to turn my eyes upon Jesus, bringing him the very best I can offer.

First blog post

More will come on this page, as I aim to start blogging weekly. Why weekly? If I overcommit, it will never happen and then this page will become scarce. I have been contemplating writing a blog for awhile but at the gentle nudge from a few people in response to one simple little post on social media, I reckon it is time to dive into the blogging world. See you soon!