From Psalm 13
How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me
How long must I take counsel in my soul
and have sorrow in my heart all the day?
How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?
This lament from the book of Psalms is one of the oldest cries for justice in any tradition. The 18th century preacher Charles Spurgeon referred to this as ‘The Howling Psalm’. It has been invoked throughout generations by people suffering under the weight of oppression. From slavery, to the Holocaust, to the civil rights movement, up to today.
As I listen to the voices of black friends, parishioners, and colleagues it is this same lament. How long? Where are you God? Or the simpler refrain - I Am Tired.
As a white man, as a white pastor, I listen to these laments. I hear the cries. They break my heart. But I cannot fully comprehend them. Not because of a lack of compassion, or a lack of sincerity. But simply because I was born into a very different America and a very different world. We frequently talk about there being Two Baltimores, but there are also two Americas.
One America where it is safe to interact with the police, where you can call on them if you are fearful or in trouble without worrying about your own safety. An America where it is assumed and guaranteed that you can protest, even loudly, obnoxiously, even threatening violence and your rights will be respected.
An America where when your sports team wins you can light a couch or two on fire and it’s all in good fun. Where charges are thrown out, sentences lightened, leniency given because ‘you’re a good kid.’
An America where you wake up knowing you have reasonable access to a good education, a safe school environment, healthy food to eat and access to basic healthcare. An America where the American Dream is a real, living thing. This is the America I, and most white Americans know. The one we value and cherish.
And then there is the other America.
The America where the police don’t exist to protect you, but to protect other people from you. The America where you are born ‘fitting the description’ because of the color of your skin. The America where there is no such thing as a peaceful protest because any gathering of more than 10 people invites/requires police intervention.
The America of mandatory minimums. Of no parole. Of ‘tried as an adult.’ The America where a black man is 5 times more likely to be incarcerated than a white man. The America where Blacks and Hispanics make up 32% of the population but more than 50% of the prison population. Where Blacks and Hispanics make up 80% of COVID-19 infections in Georgia, and 60% of COVID deaths in Maryland.
The America of food deserts and failing schools. The America of no banks, clinics or grocery stores in your zip code. The America of imaginary bootstraps and presumed guilt. The America of reservations, projects, ghettos and trailer parks; of imaginary borders to protect ‘them’ from ‘us’.
The America of high infant mortality, of untreated chronic illness, of disproportionate death rates for everything from heart disease to HIV, from cancer to COVID-19.
The America where a police officer can put his knee into your neck and everyone assumes they will get away with it.
The America where dreams are deferred.
When white America sees protests and riots explode across your screen this week it is important to recognize that it comes from that second America. From the other Minneapolis. The other Atlanta. The other Baltimore.
As Christians we follow a savior who instructs us to be one in the Body of Christ. And for 2,000 years we have a pretty iffy track record of listening. We can’t even be united on Sunday Morning, let alone in our calls for justice. If your response to George Floyd’s murder and the subsequent protests is ‘What they did was wrong but...’ you are not hearing those cries of lament, How Long, How Long, How Long.
Because it is not Jesus hiding his face from Black America - but us.
It is not Jesus who is withholding Justice - but you and me.
We are the enemies rejoicing. Rejoicing in ‘Law and Order’. In ‘Peaceful protest’. In the arrest of ‘Outside Agitators’.
But it is Jesus offering steadfast love to George Floyd. To Freddie Gray. To Sandra Bland. To Tamir Rice. To everyone crying out ‘How Long O Lord, How Long?’
And that same Jesus will deal with us as well. Bountifully if we make one choice, and justly if we choose the other.