Overcoming Racism and Prejudice

When Hurricane Harvey struck Houston and the Texas Gulf Coast,
racial and ethnic differences were cast aside, 
as this Getty Images news photo shows.

Borrowing from Charles Dickens’ classic novel, we’ve been presented “a tale of two cities”: Charlottesville, Va. and Houston, Texas.

Following the death of a young woman and injuries to dozens, Charlottesville became vivid evidence that racism in the U.S.A. is far from dead. For days afterward, it’s about all we heard – protestations of racial hatred and bigotry, including accusations that President Trump didn’t choose the right words in denouncing the horror of the day in which protesters clashed in violence.

Then came Hurricane Harvey and its relentless assault on the Texas Gulf Coast. We saw incredible devastation; for once, the term “catastrophic” was not hyperbole. But what we didn’t see was…racism and bigotry. We saw men, women and children of all ethnicities and colors, responders heroically assisting desperate Houstonians. Average citizens without emergency training banding together, oblivious to differences, literally joining hands to rescue victims, plucking them out of rising, life-threatening waters.

Comparing the two cities and the events that thrust them into the national headlines, if we want a true barometer of the state of racism in America today, we needed only to look at Houston and the other storm-ravaged coastal cities. Ethnic backgrounds, skin pigmentation, cultures, and even language differences suddenly became irrelevant. There was no hatred or bigotry, only compassion and kindness. Some called it a triumph of the human spirit.

This is not to deny that racism and prejudice still exist. We regularly see and hear manifestations of it. Bigotry is heinous, without excuse. But sadly, we can’t legislate hate. Racism may defy reason, but soapbox rhetoric won’t eradicate it. As ancient as time itself, they exhibit no signs of old age. Sadly, these evil human flaws still flourish.

Are there no solutions? I believe there are, but only by appealing to – and seeing the transformation of – the human heart. Painting the outside of a garbage can may make it appear shiny and new, but it's to no effect if the refuse and decay on the inside aren’t addressed. Similarly, racism must be cured from the inside out.

Among the Bible’s honest, unvarnished descriptions of the best and worst of humanity are numerous accounts we’d label today as racism or bigotry. We see the Egyptians’ fearful response to the Israelites as they multiply in numbers, as well as Jonah’s hatred of the Ninevites. But nowhere is the issue of prejudice more clearly addressed than through the eyes of Jesus.

In His day, the people of Samaria were despised, viewed by the Jews as inferior half-breeds. Yet one of Jesus’ best-known parables is that of the “good Samaritan,” a humble man who came to the rescue of a traveler who’d been robbed and brutally assaulted. In the Luke 10:30-37 account, Jesus said a priest and a religious leader both intentionally avoided the suffering individual. A Samaritan, however, “took pity on him.” He not only dressed the victim’s wounds, but also paid for him to stay at an inn to recover.

Were Jesus telling this story today, He might have chosen to describe the victim as a white supremacist and the rescuer as an African-American. In this context, we can grasp the irony.

Later in the same gospel, we find Jesus ministering to 10 lepers, social pariahs for no other reason than being afflicted with a horrid disease. It states He healed all of them, but only one “threw himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him – and he was a Samaritan” (Luke 17:16). Double irony.

Then John 4:4-42 tells of His encounter with a woman at a well outside a town in Samaria. She too was an outcast, having had five husbands and presently living with a man she wasn’t married to. Again, in the context of the times, speaking to such a woman, much less one that was a Samaritan, was considered scandalous. But Jesus showed her great compassion and invited her to partake of the “living water” only He could give.

Years ago, I began meeting weekly with a young African-American man, Rhon, who had just committed his life to Jesus Christ. One day he looked me in the eyes and asked, “Bob, if Jesus were standing here today and saw me, would he see a black man?” I pointed him to Galatians 3:28, which declares, “There is neither Jew, nor Greek, slave nor free, male or female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”

This I believe is without doubt God’s perspective. How, then, are we to gain this view as well?

More recently I’ve enjoyed getting to know two other black men I meet with frequently. Growing up in suburban New Jersey, I never really knew any African-Americans, although the term wasn’t used back then. In high school there were some black students, but again in those days blacks and Caucasians didn’t mix much except in extracurricular activities like athletics. So much for the myth of the non-racist North, right?

So being able spend time with Clarence and John has been a blessing for me. I’m not so certain “racism” and “prejudice” mean the same thing, because we can be prejudiced toward many types of people simply because we don’t know them and, in some respects, they’re not like us. Meeting with my two friends has helped me to recognize that apart from skin pigmentation, and ethnic culture to a degree, we’re very much alike.

Sometimes it takes a crisis, like a hurricane or a 9/11, to bring people together and help them to look past superficialities. But often all it takes is intentionality, resolving to really get to know others who aren’t just like us, so we can soon realize that in reality, we’re not all that different.

As the apostle Paul wrote, differences mean nothing for those who “are all one in Christ Jesus.”

‘Hello. What’s Your Name?’

Reconciled to the reality that I’m an introvert who out of necessity learned to become far more outgoing than is my natural inclination, I greatly admire the “people person.” This is someone who has no problem being the life of the party, the individual that strikes up a conversation with anyone.

One of those is my friend, Gary Highfield. As he and I would meet to collaborate on his book, When ‘Want To’ Becomes ‘Have To,’ I’d watch with amazement as he would easily interact with people he’d never met. He’d approach total strangers, whether to chat or ask them to serve as an instant “focus group” for an idea he was considering for his book.

Ease with people was one of the qualities that enabled him to become a top salesman for a national cellphone company. Gary’s book – about rising above a disadvantaged childhood – is enabling him to reach out to young people in circumstances much like he experienced. His goal is to instill in them hope for a brighter future.

Recently Gary mentioned a question he often uses to connect with people, whether a business person, a parent wrangling with a child, a student, or even a homeless person sitting on a curb. The question: “Hello. What’s your name?”

This question, he explained, is as profound as it is simple. “In high school, there are basically three kinds of kids: There are those who are known because of their achievements. Then there are those who are known because of the trouble they get into. And there’s a third group, those who are quiet, inconspicuous, the ones hardly anyone knows. They are virtually invisible.”

Then Gary added, “That last one’s the worst group to be in – and that’s where the most students are.” He understands this well, not only because of the students he encounters almost every day, but also because years ago, he was among them.

Think about it. The classic sitcom “Cheers” was set in a bar “where everyone knows your name.” As a friend of mine used to say, “The sweetest sound to anyone is the sound of their own name.” I’ll never forget how I felt the first time an article bearing my name was published in The Lantern, Ohio State’s student newspaper.

Getting back to the question, “What’s your name?” The gruffest among us might be inclined to respond, “Why do you want to know?” But imagine being in that third group of students – quiet, inconspicuous, basically ignored. Wouldn’t it be amazing to have someone walk up and actually be interested in knowing who you are?

How about the down-and-out individual perched on a downtown doorstep, the sort many of us typically ignore for fear of being asked for a handout. How would this person react if we stopped, looked directly into his or her eyes and said, “Hello. What’s your name?”

In the gospels, we see Jesus modeling this all the time: The woman with the incurable bleeding problem in Matthew 9 and Mark 5. The man in John 9 who had been born blind. The helpless paralyzed man lying on a mat, also described in Matthew 9.

My favorite is the so-called “woman at the well,” a Samaritan woman who came to get water at midday because other women despised her as an outcast. So she chose to fetch her water when no one else was around. In this account from John 4, we don’t know if Jesus inquired about her name, but what He said was just as startling. He asked, “Will you give Me a drink?” which was unheard of, since Jews didn’t associate with Samaritans and by custom, men didn’t speak with women they didn’t know.

She responded, “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?” Jesus proceeded to reveal He actually knew the woman very well, describing her troubled circumstances and then offering her hope.

Jesus told the woman, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life” (John 4:13).

We don’t know whether their conversation was recorded in its entirety, but do know what Jesus said to this woman – along with the simple act of acknowledging her existence, rescuing her from anonymity – transformed her life.

It’s amazing what just a few well-chosen, caring words can do. As I noted earlier, taking the initiative to interact with someone I don’t know goes beyond my comfort zone. But perhaps the Lord wants us to understand that comfort zones are vastly overrated.

After reaching out to a succession of “nobodies,” showing love they probably had not experienced in years, if ever, Jesus “saw the crowds (and) had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd” (Matthew 9:36). Then He declared, “The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field.”

Maybe we each could enlist to become part of that workforce, even if all we do is walk up to a stranger – in a restaurant, a school, an office, or on the street – look at them and say, “Hello. What’s your name?”