BEYOND HOSPITALITY

When Peter descends from the rooftop, the Spirit tells him that there is a group of men looking for him. This is probably not strange for Peter until he sees the men, that is! I imagine he was a little surprised to discover that the men weren't Jewish; they were Gentiles! 

Peter's culture was pretty clear about the protocol for spending time with Gentiles- don't do it. But Peter is told not to ignore these men, so he invites them in. He extends to them what might be considered a remarkable amount of hospitality. Perhaps Peter himself washed the feet of the strangers before inviting them into a meal, sitting with them, fellowshipping with them. Perhaps he gave them as much food and drink as he could supply, and offered more even when they were full. Though the Old Testament certainly required Peter to be hospitable to strangers, there is little doubt that this experience was a stretch even for him! 

Similarly to Peter, our churches have become pretty good at extending hospitality. As a result too many churches who have been called to multicultural ministry are actually practicing multicultural hospitality. The difference mostly lies in the maintenance of power. Believe me, I love extending hospitality to my friends. I would rather invite people to my home than meet at a restaurant.  In my home I can better express my love, making sure my friends feel comfortable and special. Hospitality is a beautiful expression of love and concern for others, but we are kidding ourselves if we don't also acknowledge the power dynamics involved in hospitality. I make the decisions. I set the parameters. I determine the extent of graciousness. 

Do you see the similarities with multicultural hospitality? The dominant group considers the church "theirs", and therefore has the right to make decisions, set parameters, and determine the extent of graciousness offered to those who are "just guests" who should be grateful for any amount of hospitality shown. 

But here's the thing, Peter wasn't told to extend hospitality. He was told to go with the men. Hospitality will never get you to multicultural ministry. It can be a great first step, an introduction, a time of learning, but ultimately you will have to walk the road of inconvenience and inquietude to truly experience the revelation of multiculturalism.

What I love next about this story, is that two communities of people- Jews and Gentiles- begin a 30 mile overnight journey together in which neither can claim power over the other. They are forming relationship in the space between their isolated communities, while on their way to immerse themselves in the "other". How many churches can you think of that are more interested in recruitment and hospitality than journeying and immersion?

If we want to follow Peter's example, we must be willing to release power, to journey with others, to risk hostility and experience a little discomfort in our lives. We must be willing to obey the Spirit and go. 

I DON'T GET IT.  

For the last 7 months I have been eating, sleeping and breathing the story of Peter's life-changing encounter with Cornelius in Acts 10. I think this passage is filled with crucial insights for church bodies who are interested in multicultural ministry. So this is the first post in my series on Peter!   

In Acts 10 we find Peter on the roof praying, when he suddenly becomes hungry. A meal is in the works, but before its ready Peter falls into a trance. He has three visions, all the same, where a voice tells him to kill and eat unclean animals. But Peter isn't having it! Each time Peter says no, the reply is, "Do not call anything impure that God has made clean." (Acts 10:15)

I love what happens next. Peter doesn't walk away feeling invigorated by a new vision for a multi-ethnic church. He doesn't call all his friends together to discuss how they might change the status quo of separation to bring eternal life to the Gentiles. Nor does he start packing bags so that he can move to the nearest Gentile community and start evangelizing. On the contrary, Peter left the roof wondering what the vision was supposed to mean! (Acts 10:17) Peter doesn't get it! 

This has potential to be vey instructive for us. How many pastors, lay leaders, seminary graduates, entire congregations even, have indeed been given a vision for multi-ethnic ministry, but have no idea what exactly that means? We have a sense, a feeling, perhaps like Peter even a picture- albeit a rather fuzzy one. But we should not assume that because we feel called to multi-ethnic ministry, that we fully understand what God intends. Should we pick up our families and move? Should we start a new church or transform the one we have? Should we change our leadership structures, recruit new members or start a partner church? Is God calling us to this work through our church, or our personal lives? Could He be asking us to get involved in new organizations, new neighborhoods, new countries? Perhaps, we, too, can give ourselves permission to admit that we aren't quite sure what God is calling us to do. I love that Peter must go through a series of experiences before his vision transforms to revelation. In so doing, he allows us to explore through experience, too. Its okay that we don't get it... yet. 

So, if you have been called to multi-ethnic ministry, have been given a vision that doesn't quite make sense, and you're not quite sure where to begin- keep wondering. Multi-ethnic ministry is a journey, and together we will explore how Peter's journey might lend us some insight for our own. 

I have purposely waited to write my thoughts on the verdict of the George Zimmerman trial. It was tempting to jump into the fray of emotions I felt, and proclaim from social media everything I was feeling moment to moment. Instead I made a decision to sit in the emotion for a few hours. Just sit, and allow myself to really contemplate how I feel and what I think.  

As much as I want to write a post that is theologically deep or gives a great spin on the case that no one else has thought of, or analyzes the legal implications of the verdict, I am afraid I only have simple thoughts. These are thoughts that I own as an individual.  This is not an attempt to speak on behalf of anyone other than myself. If you find something here that resonates, I will be grateful for our shared connection, but today I write mostly for me. 

As hard as I tried, I just couldn't get myself to see Trayvon Martin's death in isolation. In my mind I can see slave ships unloading black bodies like cattle. I see families torn from one another on the auction block. I see the terrified faces of black men desperately trying to out run a lynch mob. I see burned bodies floating above dying campfires. I see the hatred of students screaming at Ruby Bridges, and I hear the shot that killed Medgar Evers in his driveway. The image of Emmett Till and Trayvon Martin bleed into one face, one story. And as if these pictures of history aren't overwhelming enough, the faces of the men I love loom before me. If I could quantify the history of injustice in my own family, I wonder if the scales of justice would fall over. How many beatings? How many lynchings? How much police brutality? How many false accusations? How often has the fear of America overtaken justice in my own lineage? How many times did injustice crush the hearts and minds of the men who produced me? I probably don't want to know. But I wonder. 

Though my heart is heavy, I am not oblivious to the fact that Trayvon is far from being the only little black boy to die at the hands of another over the last 18 months. I live in the city of Chicago, and here the murders of brown boys and girls are told on the news like baseball scores or box office numbers-- how high will it be this weekend? This acknowledgement offers me no comfort. I keep coming back to the question, "where am I supposed to raise a black boy?" If I cannot raise him in a community that looks like him, and if he cannot walk to the corner store in the "safe" neighborhood... where am I supposed to go? Where is the place in America where the dirt doesn't cry out for the blood of my future son? Perhaps this is one reason why I have not yet started to have children; my hope of a "safe neighborhood" continues to fade. 

I tried really hard to use "Christianese" to relieve myself of these thoughts, "Surely God will protect MY son." "Well, I cant put my trust in the justice system; I can only put my trust in God." Or how about, "God will judge in the end." But none of these thoughts bring much in the way of peace. And why should it? After all, Trayvon's family is far from the first to lose a child. So where do I place my hope? It is only in believing that God doesn't just touch, but that He has felt and intimately understands the hurt of Trayvon's family and their deep sense of injustice. This sense of finding God, hearing God, reaching out to God and God reaching back happens in my lament, not in a hope for eternal retribution- I personally can't wait that long for healing. 

So, to all those who are lamenting, you are not alone. I pray that God will indeed make Himself known to you and your family as you lament. May your sons purchase skittles and iced tea in the rain, and still come home. Amen.

There is no shortage of confusing and misunderstood topics when it comes to race. The preferred terminology for describing black people (or should I say African American), the perpetual assumption that Asians are immigrants, that forgotten chapter in American history where arbitrary borders changed the citizen status of people groups, and so on. When these topics come up, most people readily admit that there is much more learning that needs to be done. But there is one topic that seems to constantly and consistently elude us- colorblindness.  

It seems many still believe colorblindness is the key to solving racism. Believing in the notion of colorblindness sounds like this, "I don't even see color," or this, "But we are all the same," or this, "I've never looked at you as a (fill in the blank)". These statements are usually followed by a sugary example of our sameness and ends with a quote by Martin Luther King Jr about character not color being what really counts. And it all sounds pretty good, until you run into someone who refuses to let you forget their race, "If you cant see color, you can't see me." Simple. Hard-hitting. This statement typically stops the syrupy language that was flowing just a few seconds before. While I completely agree with wanting to be seen (and that being seen includes my race), we have not really given people the opportunity to unpack the complexity of colorblindness as a concept.  So, I am going to try to address it on an interpersonal level today, without writing a whole book on the topic!  

Ctrl- The first thing we have to do is get the myths surrounding colorblindness under control. Myth 1: Colorblindness is the only option for recognizing my humanness. Believe it or not, it is possible to notice my race and still see me as human. Too many people have bought into the myth that to see color is to erase my humanity, my character, my individuality. When actually my race can give you clues into who I am, if I am given the chance to explain why my race matters. Myth 2: To not be colorblind is to be racist.  Consider this, when I walk into a room and a man notices that I am female, I do not call him sexist. When a friend says my grandmother's silver hair is beautiful, she is not being ageist . When I ask my Uncle if he is having trouble getting his wheelchair through the door, he doesn't shout "Ableist!" Similarly, noticing my race does not make you racist. Myth 3: Seeing color is seeing stereotypes. There is no question that stereotypes about POCs are rampant- news segments, movies, magazines, family members, politicians- stereotypes are everywhere. However, just because we are spoon-fed stereotypes like toddlers, doesn't mean we have to behave like toddlers. We can, in fact, reject stereotypes. Have you ever seen a child refuse to eat mushy green peas? Toddlers reject food with a-t-t-i-t-u-d-e. We can do the same with stereotypes- recognize them for the mushy green peas that they are and refuse to consume them. We can allow people to define racial significance for themselves.  
 

ALT- But how do we do that exactly? Well, first need an alternative to colorblindness. I would like to suggest we become color conscious instead. To be colorblind is to ignore or disregard race. Color consciousness is to be aware of race, to no longer disregard it as meaningless or minute. People who are color conscious are comfortable noticing difference without ascribing superiorty and inferiority to those differences. They can appreciate cultural differences and the diversity of thought, perspective and experience that race brings to the world. Color conscious people refuse to ignore race because they are too busy exploring it for all its beauty, quirkiness, and yes, messiness. 

DEL- So we must delete this positive notion of colorblindness from our psyche. I don't want to ignore that God gave me chocolate brown skin, thick hair, and a rich culture- you shouldn't ignore it either. And lets be honest- colorblindness doesn't really exist. No matter how often I try, every time I stand in front of a group, have them close their eyes, and ask if anyone has forgotten what color I am- the answer is always the same- nope! So rather than desperately trying to disregard what you can clearly see, open your eyes wide and delve into the significance of my race with me.