A Multitude of Sins

As I write, it’s just over a year since George Floyd was killed and since that day, 25th May 2020, I think it fair to say that many people in the U.K. (as well as the U.S.A.) have been re-examining their ideas about racial justice. And, perhaps, re-examining themselves.

As a straight, white, middle-class man in a position of leadership, I have sometimes found myself in a very strange position in recent times, especially as, if pushed, I would lean to the right on political affairs (like many, I vote on the basis of whom I think will lead best from the centre-ground, which means that in my time I’ve voted for all three of the main parties).

Sometimes I have felt oddly like I am expected not to speak, or that I’d better not speak lest I be branded a something-ist. A privileged white racist, a sexist misogynist, an evil capitalist… you get the picture.

I could, of course, defend myself by pointing to my friends, family members, members of staff, Facebook pages and so on to say that actually, hold on, I’m none of those things. And I could (sometimes do) get really angry that assumptions might be made about me because I happen to be a straight, white, middle-class, right-leaning man. First and foremost, I would argue, I am (and identify as) a Christian, a follower of Jesus, a child of God. That is, of course, the most privileged position of all.

Recently, I’ve had many conversations with friends about racial justice. All of us have very strong views about racism. We are all anti-racist. And yet at times I’ve found myself disagreeing, sometimes sharply, with some of the things being said. As a preacher, one of my heroes is Martin Luther King Jr., and I am invariably moved to tears by his “I have a dream” speech. I firmly believe in the idea that if we must judge one another, and be judged, then those judgements should not be based on the colour of our skin (whatever colour that is) but on the content of our character. That applies to you, me, George Floyd, the police officer who killed him, to Martin Luther King and to all who speak on these matters.

I am blessed with many friends and family members – some black, some white, some Asian, some who are police officers. It cannot be right that I, or any of them are thought of or portrayed as some kind of caricature because of the colour of their skin, or indeed the colour of their uniform.

Anyone with a smattering of knowledge knows full well that the human history of slavery (even the history of the trans-Atlantic slave trade) is not all about white-on-black racism, but is much, much more nuanced than that. Yet there is nothing nuanced about my friends’ personal experiences of being mocked, abused and spat upon. Those experiences aren’t very “historical” either, and still affect family and friends.

In this ongoing debate, I think there are moments when some of my friends and I have thought the other was a racist or at least saying things that the other could not understand. “How can you not see that saying ‘all white people are racist’ is itself a racist thing to say?” I ask. “How can you not support something that is telling the world that black lives matter?” The suggestion being that if you can’t do that, then clearly black lives don’t matter to you.

My own agenda, as a Christian, is to try to move people from positions of either racism, or indifference, towards that “dream” of MLK’s, but sometimes I have wondered if my agenda is shared by those espousing so-called ‘Critical Race Theory’. Well, perhaps our agenda is the same but clearly our perspectives are very different. I think that we have to begin where our communities are, and communicate things in such a way as to bring racist or indifferent people towards us, and the dream, rather than entrenching them, or pushing them further away. We should speak the truth as we see it, but in such a way as to build bridges, not burn them. Let’s be brutally honest – there remains a great deal of white-on-black and white-on-Asian racism in this country.

Sometimes it’s expressed overtly, and we roundly condemn it. Sometimes – oftentimes – it’s more subtle… and we remain silent.
My belief is that we are all dealt a hand of cards and it’s up to us how we play them. And to be clear, I’ve been dealt a really, really, good hand. I am in an outlandishly privileged position, praise God, by dint of my parents’ loving marriage, my upbringing, the country I live in, my education, the beautiful wife I somehow persuaded to marry me, our wonderful children, my adorable friends, my mentors, my health, my job, my abilities, my hobbies…. The list just goes on and on! I have to concede that being white, too, does afford me some privileges, and they are not ones I had really thought about much, before George Floyd’s murder and the ensuing debate.

I have had to look again at the history of racism and of our country, to consider that regardless of what the Barbary Corsairs did, or what the Vikings or the Normans did, it’s not really affecting me today. I’m not the one experiencing racism today. I’m not the one whose recent ancestors were subject to whips and chains and slavery. So, I need to listen, and to listen with care. I may feel I have nothing to apologise for personally, but I can still express regret and sympathy and compassion, and love.

I think a lot about that. Love, I mean. Love, wrote the Apostle Peter, covers a multitude of sins. There are a great many sins, historical and current, that require a great deal of love to cover them, to stop them, to salve them. The current injustices are real and they come on top of the slaver’s lashings which were also real and have left deep, deep scars in some people’s psyches. Have we lashings of love to cover and to salve them?

We’ve all been dealt a hand of cards, and it’s up to us how we play them. Some cards will be high cards, some much lower. But in God’s great game, the trump suit is always love. As Christians, we should be making sure we are holding as many trumps, as much love, in our hands as possible.

Jesus said that we would be known as His followers by our love for one another. His command is to “love one another as I have loved you” and in the story of the Good Samaritan it is clear that ‘love your neighbour’ does not depend on our neighbour being like ourselves.

We may find that there are significant differences between our neighbour’s ‘truths’ and our own. Perhaps we will find it hard to love our neighbour in the light of what we perceive to be the truth about them. However, I suggest that ‘love your neighbour’ does not depend on the truth about our neighbour, but on the truth about our love.

“Love one another as I have loved you.” I do not deserve our Lord Jesus’s love. I do not deserve His mercy and His grace. I do not deserve a place in His heavenly Father’s house. Thank God, my Lord’s love for me is not contingent on the truth about me; neither the colour of my skin, nor the content of my character. Thank you, Father! Thank you, my Lord! Please, please… by the power of Your Holy Spirit, help me to love my neighbour as You have loved me.

As it pleases God to bring new people into the church I help to lead, it fills me with joy that He seems to be bringing people of all colours. He is building His Kingdom, and I feel incredibly blessed, and thank Him with tear-filled eyes as I reflect on what a beautiful and multi-coloured community, full of love, really looks like.
 
1 Peter 4:8 (NIV)
8 Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.
 

Simon Lace, 13/05/2021