Response to Recent National Tragedies

My son Joshua, who is three years old, is obsessed with the story of David and Goliath. Every morning and every evening for family worship, he chooses “Only a Boy Named David” for us to sing. He always asks me to play the part of Goliath. I use the most baritone voice I can muster and I shout, “Am I a dog that you come to me with sticks?” My three-year-old yells back, “You come to me with a sword and a shield, but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts!” I slowly march toward him semi-forcefully, and he quickly winds up his shoelace sling to thrust a pretend rock toward me. I fall to the ground as he proclaims victory.

Events taking place in our nation right now in response to the horrific deaths of George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and countless others are not a pretend game of battle. They are real life. People are afraid. People are dying. People are angry. People are recognizing that this giant known as racism has been storming through our nation for 400 years. Like the story of David and Goliath, it seems as though the soldiers in God’s army are afraid to face the giant.

Scripture tells us that some of King Saul’s soldiers were motivated by his promise to give great rewards to whoever defeated the giant: riches, his daughter’s hand in marriage, and freedom from taxes. But these enticements did nothing for courage. They failed to generate action.

Enter David. A shepherd boy. By all accounts, he was the exact opposite of the ideal warrior. Yet when David arrives at the battle to salute his brothers, he is greeted by the sound of this giant. Goliath curses the name of God and openly mocks the soldiers for their fear, their inaction, and their weakness. David speaks to the soldiers close by him and asks, “who is this [giant] that he should defy the armies of the living God?” Even David’s brother tries to chide him, but David responds, “Is there not a cause?”

Perhaps as Christians, we’ve been approaching the conversation about racism by focusing on the size of the giant and our own fear and we’ve forgotten that this is about God’s name. Perhaps we have been motivated more by our fear of our reputation or what others think of us when we should have been focused on defending the name of God as Creator of heaven and earth and every living thing. Because God is the Creator of everything and everyone, anyone who mistreats His creation mocks His name. This is our cause!

As last-day Christians, we must fight the giant not because we are strong or because we have the best armor or because everyone else is preparing to fight. We must fight the giants of racism, oppression, injustice, and social inequality because of God’s name. We bear this name when we enjoin ourselves as Christians. We are to proclaim as one body, one army, one people, whose cultural identity is in Christ, that He is Creator. We are without excuse if we allow any of His creation to be treated as anything less than what He created them to be.

Maybe you’ve heard the story of David and Goliath dozens of times and you know the ending. But perhaps it would be good for all of us to review the end of the Big Book: “After these things I looked, and behold, a great multitude which no one could number, of all nations, tribes, peoples, and tongues, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, with palm branches in their hands and crying out with a loud voice, saying, ‘Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!’ All the angels stood around the throne and the elders and the four living creatures, and fell on their faces before the throne and worshiped God” (Revelation 7:9-11).

Every time my son asks me to fight in the battle with the giant, even though I know the ending, I still fight with him. In this current battle with the giant, I also know that he is counting on me to fight. His life depends on it.

Ellen White wrote extensively about the challenges of racism in her day, much of which is as applicable today as it was in the late 1800s. In light of current events, this quote stands out to me:

“I call upon every church in our land to look well to your own souls. ‘Examine yourselves, whether ye be in the faith; prove your own selves. Know ye not your own selves, how that Jesus Christ is in you, except ye be reprobates?’ God makes no distinction between the North and the South. Whatever may be your prejudices, your wonderful prudence, do not lose sight of this fact, that unless you put on Christ, and His Spirit dwells in you, you are slaves of sin and of Satan. Many who claim to be children of God are children of the wicked one, and have all his passions, his prejudices, his evil spirit, his unlovely traits of character. But the soul that is indeed transformed will not despise any one whom Christ has purchased with His own blood” (The Southern Work, p. 13).

Although the word “slavery” is often limited in lexical scope today, Ellen White broadens the definition in the statement above. She powerfully states that unless the children of God remove prejudices and detest no one who was purchased by Christ’s own blood, we can fall into the snare of Satan and become guilty of being slaves to sin. Such words can make people feel uncomfortable with its direct and undeniable stance, but prophets throughout the Bible were often a source of discomfort to God’s people.

It is often through times of discomfort that we grow in our spiritual walk, and in the Chaplain’s Office at Southern, we want every student to know that we are willing to get uncomfortable for the work of Christ. We are reminded that freedom can only be experienced when we value each soul on the biblical foundation that God paid the ultimate price for their salvation, no matter their race, class, or caste. We are also reminded that true freedom starts with exposing the darkness of evil through the shining light of God’s Word, including the darkness of racism and inequality. We are dedicated to addressing societal evils like racism because of Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross for all of humanity.

The horrific deaths of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd have made me ill—distraught with grief and fear. The inequality, discrimination, and systemic evil of racist indifference is impossible to overlook or to ignore.

I am angry. On behalf of my husband—a black man built like a linebacker but the most caring man I know. On behalf of my extended family, my black friends, co-workers and pastoral colleagues, the black students, employees, and alumni I serve, I am outraged. It should go without me saying: racism is evil and has no place in my heart, in the heart of Christians, let alone the institutions and systems of our society, including—and especially—those with religious foundations.

I am humbled. Regardless of how I was raised, what I was taught, etc., I have no excuse to be ignorant; I am without defense. We are far from having eradicated racism, we have not done enough, and we must do more. My humble prayer is this: “Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way of everlasting,” (Psalm 139:23-24).

As I acknowledge the pain and exhaustion of my husband and so many others who are affected by racism on a daily basis, I am reminded of what Paul said in 1 Corinthians 12:26, “If one member of the body suffers, all suffer together. If one member is honored, all rejoice together.” It would be a shame if our only response to your pain was sympathy, worse still if we could only muster empathy and tears. Instead, let us defend the true character of our Creator God by boldly proclaiming each person has been “fearfully and wonderfully made” in the image of God!

I am convicted and compelled. I believe the gospel mandate of Seventh-day Adventist Christians is to:

• “Open our mouths for the mute, for the rights of all who are destitute. Open our mouths, judge righteously, and defend the rights of the poor and needy” (Proverbs 31:8-9).
• “Do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with our God” (Micah 6:8).
• “Hate evil, and love good, and establish justice in the gate” (Amos 5:15).
  

I refuse to remain silent or unmoved. To “stand with” or “speak out” is meaningless unless I am daily working to tear down the walls of racial segregation and social injustice. I pray that each member of our campus family would be compelled by the love and grace of our Redeemer to educate yourself, listen to others’ experiences, become an ally, and actively fight against the giant of racism to the honor and glory of His name. And I urge you, hold us accountable in this fight.

I am here. As a campus chaplain, I want to know your story and learn how to better advocate on your behalf. I want you to know that your life matters to me, that you are seen, heard, valued, and loved for who God has created you to be. No one but your Creator God has the ability to tell you who you are. He knit you together in your mother’s womb. He knows the hairs on your head. He alone knows how you feel and what you think before you even say a word. He calls you His own and loves you with reckless abandon. You do not fight this battle alone.