The best of me, the most hopeful part of me, wants to believe that after six days of unrest in more than one hundred and forty cities in the United States sparked by the murder of George Floyd–one more in an unbelievably long list of black people killed by police, including Breonna Taylor; after watching Amy Cooper wield the racial power of white women’s tears to threaten Christian Cooper; after the lynching of Ahmaud Arbery; after black COVID-19 patients being hospitalized three times the rate of white or Hispanic patients, that some of us, individually and collectively, are finally starting to ask the question that is at the heart of what it means to be human:
Who am I?
Who are we?
Who do I want to be?
Who do we want to be?
To be sure, these are not the core questions being asked by everyone. Even a cursory read of social media finds some white people indicating that they believe these events only reflect the evils of liberal media and entitled blacks. But others are, indeed, beginning to ask these bedrock questions of individual and corporate identity.
This has led to many profound social media posts, letters of concern, statements of solidarity, and acts of compassion. Just yesterday I signed a letter of concern penned by leaders within Churches of Christ. Sermons, Bible classes and online groups are discussing these events in increasing numbers.
It’s critical, however, to note that this is the first step in a very long journey. Dallas Willard, longtime professor of philosophy at USC, wrote in Renovation of the Heart about VIM: vision, intention and means. It’s good to have the right vision for the kind of people we want to be. We have to gain clarity about that before anything can happen. Still, that’s just the first step. Next, we have to make an intentional decision to pursue that vision. And that’s not just a one-time decision. It’s a daily decision. Finally, we have to put into place the means to make it happen. We have to determine what habits and practices, policies and structures, will be implemented to turn that vision into reality.
Many of us are asking questions that revolve around vision. What we must also do is begin to make intentional decisions that we will, indeed, start living into that vision. And then we must put into place the means and start the life-long work of implementing that vision.
This is the process of all spiritual formation–and addressing racism in all its forms is spiritual formation. These latter steps of intention and means are what biblical authors point to with words like these:
5 For this very reason, make every effort to supplement your faith with virtue, and virtue with knowledge, 6 and knowledge with self-control, and self-control with steadfastness, and steadfastness with godliness … (2 Pet. 1:5-6 ESV)
12 Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, 13 for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure. (Phil. 2:12-13 ESV)
12 Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. 13 Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead (Phil. 3:12-13 ESV)
Becoming different people, individually and collectively, requires tremendous effort. It is a life-long labor. It doesn’t happen by simply signing a letter or writing a post or participating in an online discussion. These are good beginning steps. They clarify our vision and intention. But what’s also needed is the determination to enter into disciplined ways of re-thinking and re-living. What’s also needed is sweat-inducing, muscle-aching, fatigue-bringing, mind-blowing, wholesale renovation rebuilding work.
To be sure, as Dallas Willard writes in The Great Omission, our work is not the only thing God uses to bring about the restoration of our own humanity. The project of re-becoming the humans we were created to be and always meant to be is empowered by the supernatural work of the Spirit who transforms us from within by a power that is divine, and by the rough yet equally transformative work of situations in life like suffering which often remake us in ways we never thought possible. But part of this “golden triangle,” as Willard called it, is human effort. Discipline. Determination. Habits. Practices. Policies. Nothing can replace that.
My friend Jovan Barrington, who preaches in Littleton, CO recently wrote this:
“I once sat at a dinner party when another guest and the host said Colin Kaepernick should ‘shut up and play football.’ (Colin’s peaceful protest was raising awareness to police brutality against POC). In a rather heated conversation. I told him it would be good for him to watch videos, and read some books so that he could have a better understanding of racism in America. He said that the average person doesn’t have time for that…”
Clearly this person lacked vision. He didn’t even want to envision becoming someone other than who he already was. He also lacked intention and means. He was unwilling to even consider the labor it required to foster mind-change and heart-change within himself. “The average person doesn’t have time for that…”
And therein lies one of the great challenges before us. Becoming human doesn’t just happen. Acquiring the character of Christ isn’t something we drift into. Writing a few posts won’t turn me into a person living with radical hospitality and valuing each person as one made in the image of God any more than declaring my belief in Jesus as the Son of God on the night of my baptism turned me into a Christ-like person. It takes daily action. It takes a lifetime of practice. It takes hard work.
Without it, I suppose, we’ll continue to be the average people that led to the crisis we’re now in. With it, along with the shaping power of the Spirit and the crucible of suffering, we can become who we are always meant to be–those most clearly seen in the life of the one we call Jesus.
