How to Heal Racial Strife

“What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done, and there is nothing new under the sun.” Ecclesiastes 1:9

I hear the cry of the catbird outside my window. His high wail is a reminder of all that is wrong in the world–and in me. This dark bird is hungry–and frustrated. He has recently been fighting with the mockingbird over a feeder filled with peanut butter and walnuts. Sometimes they alight together and begin beating their wings and “cawing” in the most dreadful manner. The more they shout and cuss, the more riled up they each get until the feeder is spinning and no one is getting a bite to eat.

The situation in South Africa is disturbing to this suburban mom. My little window into the world via the internet frightens me. It’s not a dystopian novel. There are real people being slaughtered in the streets. And while I am able to “log off” and go enjoy a cup of coffee, there are hungry children wailing and bereft mothers grieving their dead. And there are brutal savage men butchering other men.

Charles Manson is laughing from the grave. The race war he wanted to incite is at our doorstep. This may be happening in Africa, but it is happening in America too.

Enmity between races and tribes has existed since the dawn of civilization. Jesus addressed it in his parable of the Good Samaritan when he instructed us to love our neighbors–especially those of other tribes and races. But there is a more pertinent lesson to consider in these times of racial tension: the parable of the unforgiving servant.

Peter asked an important question: “Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times? Jesus said to him, ‘I do not say to you seven times, but seventy-seven times.”

There are days I take issue with Jesus words. One of those days was yesterday. I was rear ended by a woman who probably fell asleep at the wheel. She felt she really hadn’t hit me that hard and it wasn’t that big of a deal. But she knocked me into the car in front of me and gave my neck a good lashing. And while they stood around arguing, I started to cry and was accused of trying to “milk the ‘old lady’ out of her money when I refused to be comforted.” Even the officer thought I was overreacting, but the sobs would not abate. The violence of the impact loosed a torrent of emotion I did not know was there. Worse, no one seemed to care.

“It’s okay to be sad about sad things.” – Zack Eswine

I chose to forgive the women whose names I do not know. But I am still injured and my car is damaged. The wounds are fresh and raw. I am angry. And perplexed. And sad. It was an accident. A minor one by the looks of things. Then why am I so upset?

Worry about liability was the main concern. Everyone was worried about money. The woman who hit me asked if I was okay and I was not. I heard her mutter to the officer at one point, “I guess I’m gonna have to pay.” Her car was damaged too. I thought later, “But this is exactly what car insurance is for!” But in the heat of emotion I couldn’t process all of that. I only knew I was grieved by the trauma of being hit by a car while at a dead stop.

The woman who hit me was black. I am white. Later, someone said to me, “If the shoe had been on the other foot, she would have been crying about pain and injury to get money out of you!” This made me sadder. Why do we project our prejudice onto situations instead of dealing with the facts head on? She hit me… And I forgive her. Skin color has nothing to do with it.

“For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.” Jesus – Matthew 6:14-15

This is part of “loving our neighbor”. We all make mistakes because we are human. God knows we are weak. Therefore, when we are weak, we must ask for forgiveness. Then, our neighbor must forgive us. If we all lived under this simple principal; love God and love our neighbor, there would be no need for the senseless violence happening across the planet. God has offered us a way to live in peace with each other. So why do we reject it?

“The coming of the lawless one is by the activity of Satan with all power and false signs and wonders, and with all wicked deception for those who are perishing, because they refused to love the truth and so be saved. Therefore God sends them a strong delusion, so that they may believe what is false, in order that all may be condemned who did not believe the truth but had pleasure in unrighteousness.” 2 Thessalonians 2:9-12

From what I see in the videos of South Africa, there is a war between looters and average citizens trying to protect their property. Is it materialism? Greed? Hate? Yes. It is also envy, slander, and at the root–a desire to seek vengeance for what has been stolen. But at the very core of this issue is something crucial I wish both sides would see: they don’t know how to forgive.

We don’t forgive only because someone apologizes or asks for it. We forgive because God has forgiven us. Then we live in such a way that others see the way we extend grace and desire that peace for themselves. Is it hard? Yes. Does it cost something? Yes. Because to forgive means something has been lost forever. There is wound that aches; a heart that bleeds. We close that wound when we forgive; both in ourselves and in the other person. Forgiveness is a healing balm offered to us by our gracious Heavenly Father. It is a medicine that can never be too liberally applied. More importantly, it smells sweet. The apostle Paul said in 1 Corinthians 13 that “love keeps no record of wrongs.” That is a statement we won’t hear movements saying today. Instead, we are told there must be reparations. That sounds a lot like vengeance to me.

Forgiveness relinquishes the right to restitution.

The catbird is still wailing outside my window. The mockingbird has bullied him away again. He sits in the tree and flips his tails and watches while the greedy songster has her fill while he goes hungry. I suppose this is how it shall be until the Lord returns. Until then, I will watch and pray and quietly whisper to my feathered friends, “Forgive!”