Can I tell you a story?
I know that every white person has a blind spot when it comes to race. There are many stories we haven’t heard. And sometimes, it’s because we haven’t wanted to hear them. Sometimes, we’ve ignored those stories or shut our ears to them.
That’s our privilege. Our white privilege.
Once upon a time I took my family and some other youth on a camping trip. Some of you may remember me telling you this story, some years back. I think there were seven of us total on that trip, my family of four, and three other youth.
We made a reservation at a privately-owned campground near Santa Cruz. Our reservation specified a specific campsite, so when we pulled in, around dusk, I drove around slowly and cautiously, looking for the campsite that was ours. In fact, we were all looking, through the open windows of our two vehicles.
Finally we found it, and I went to the office to check in.
As I approached the office, the manager came storming out and started yelling at me. “This is a family campground!” he bellowed. “People bring their children here! We don’t need you racing through!”
I thought, “What the heck is wrong with this guy?” (That’s the edited version.) What the heck is wrong with this guy? I had driven extra-slowly through the campground as I looked for our campsite. I had no idea what he was so upset for.
Fuming, I went back to our campsite, where everyone else was waiting. I explained what had happened. “I just don’t get it,” I said.
But the youth who had joined us on our trip got it. Tough boys, all of them, I was surprised when they murmured, “It’s ok. Just forget about it.”
For a moment, I just I looked at them. I looked at their faces. One had the appearance of an Asian. Another had the appearance of an African-American. Their actual ethnic mix is more complicated than that, but that’s how they appeared.
And in that moment, they also had the look of defeat.
Oh. OH!
The campground manager wasn’t upset at how fast I was driving. He was just using that as a mask for his own racism. He couldn’t admit that he was racist, maybe not even to himself, but he could find some other reason to not like us.
For the first time in my life, I had had a taste of the racism and prejudice these boys had lived with nearly every day of their lives. For the first time in my life, I realized that I had my own blind spot when it came to race. For the first time in my life, I became aware of the privilege that all white people have and benefit from.
Until that point, I hadn’t known that part of the story.
Since then, I have tried hard to listen to the stories of others, especially the stories of those whose experiences differ significantly from mine. I listen, because the stories each of us have contain great truth. I listen, and I try my best to understand, because I know there is still so much that I do not understand. There are people in my own family whose stories I do not know, not to mention people in my church, people in my community, people in my nation, and people all over the world.
Jesus talked in stories. Many of his stories were parables, but they were always rooted in truth. Stories help us understand. In fact, if we judge someone without listening to their story; if we judge someone without trying to understand… that’s prejudice. That’s judging without knowing.
And a lot of people are doing that today.
I recently commented about the situation concerning NFL players who kneel during the national anthem. I said we need to listen to their stories. But a friend of mine who disagrees with me on this said, “there’s nothing to listen to. It’s all fabricated drama.”
He wouldn’t even listen to their story. He was eager to judge, but not to listen.
That is prejudice. That is white privilege. White people don’t need to listen to these stories, we are free to make judgments, because the stories don’t directly affect people like us...
Except that they do. They do affect people like us. They affect all of us. But if we don’t listen to the stories, we’ll never understand that.
Listen to the stories. Why are NFL players protesting? To get us to listen to the stories, the stories of people with names like Michael Brown and Philando Castile and Trayvon Martin and Tamir Rice and Freddie Gray and Walter Scott and Christian Taylor and Ezell Ford and Sandra Bland and Anthony Lamar Smith. Have you heard their stories? Do you know their stories? Maybe we don’t want to hear their stories, but we need to.
Listen to the stories. We have some amazing stories in our congregation. Some of them are happy, hopeful stories. Some tell of longing or hardship. We have people here who have come from all over the world. We have people who have experienced lives that are very different from one another.
And yet, at this table, we are all one. We are ALL one. That is also part of our story. All of our stories intertwine into one. All of our stories connect. They help us understand one another better. They help us understand our society better. They help us understand the gospel better.
That’s a big part of the reason we at BKCC are here: to listen to - and tell - stories.
The disciples asked Jesus why he told stories, why he spoke in parables. Jesus responded by saying people have a hard time understanding. They see but they do not perceive. They hear but they do not listen.
But with a story, just maybe, the gospel truth will be revealed.
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