A Stake In Our Division

A Stake In Our Division

As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to one hope when you were called; one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.- Ephesians 4:1-6

Here's the music. Start or end here. Up to you. Right click. Open in New Tab. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iM17qeIIIE4 

It was a generation ago, January 1998, when my class returned from a particularly awful assembly. It was my 3^rd year as a teacher in a school district that saw itself as “diverse” (big keyword then), being in reality largely two ethnicities: black (64%) and white (34%) with a few Spanish speaking or “Asian” (American catch-all for billions with Eastern Hemispheric roots) households thrown in the mix. It was also a community on the back end of a shift in economic demographics from middle class suburbia to a more pseudo-urban working-class poverty. Fascinating to be a part of it all.

So, anyway, the assembly. If memory serves, it was among the last of these types. To be crowned king/queen of Winterfest, speechmaking was required, which was not easy in our setting. The high school was constructed without decent gathering space for oration or orderly debate. We were confined a cavernous gymnasium with the worst sound system ever. Really. The worst.

1000+ teens gathered, straining to hear over echo and chatter and laughter and heckling. Those who listened in were treated to predictably impassioned declarations about safe sex, changing school rules, lunch menus, hall passes, restrooms, etc. Amidst the cacophony however, more than one royalty candidate came to the mic with something different, speaking very seriously and in clearly divisive terms about race and just how blame and penalty should be distributed.

The speech-making it turned out, was only the start. Students returned to my small classroom and sat quietly stunned. When someone finally spoke, she simply said, “Mr. Jobe, when did they teach us to hate each other?”

Then came the tears. Not just her. The whole class. All felt the weight of truth in that question. Then, these wise young men and women of a striking variety of pigmentation explained how they had played in each other’s houses and yards and gone to class together since they could remember, and that they’d loved each other. They knew their skin tones were different, but that was not for a second what they saw first. Their primary focus was commonality. Somewhere along the line, adults whom they trusted coached these children not only to see differences first, but to search for and divide over them. My kids, as I still call them, were devastated at the reckoning of that moment. My life changed, as well.

For another 12 years, the students and families with whom I worked and lived continually blessed and trusted me with the struggles and joys in their lives: my office, classroom, home, church, became ours, together. Kids of all hues called me Dad or Pops or something of similar honor. Even students who didn’t know me came for prayer or spiritual counsel. “Jobe Time” became a daily lunch experience for some. They came working out whatever struggle of identity that comes with growing up and somehow trusted that wherever I was, that space was safe. Humbles me to remember it.

I was included in family traditions (chitlins will never be my thing) and worship experiences, too. One of our stalwart teachers approached me after a Baccalaureate service in which I had directed people to lay hands on our grads for prayer and said, “Mr. Jobe, you look like a white man, but you’re a brother.” There is no greater honor than to be graced a seat at a family table that you could not possibly have earned.

In the classroom, my American culture classes dove fearlessly into an amazing array of subject matter with frank and respectful (if sometimes difficult) discussion. We all learned a ton. When (in 2010) my family followed God’s call to work with people of every nation, tribe, people and language in full-time ministry, we were prepared for it in large part because of what my students, families, and colleagues had contributed. Teaching at Mt Healthy for 15 years was one of the greatest learning experiences and most profound blessings of my life. I owe these people a great debt.

A Stake…

But a generation has passed since that moment of reckoning. Now, I am regularly told by those who have an investment in keeping people divided, that I am (or my wife or children) part of the problem: that the evidence of my life isn’t enough if I won’t bend to specific action of the current narrative, that my privilege (which I do clearly acknowledge) means I no longer get to have conversation (let alone be graced a seat), that unity in the Spirit and bonds of peace are not sufficient for earthly kingdom makers, that my melanin makes me inherently (at whatever level) a hater of the very people I love and have loved.

In the current thought and speech control climate in which we live, those classroom and private conversations that so blessed us all would be considered scandalous. The films we viewed, books/articles read, or music shared to spur one another on toward love and good deeds would be scrutinized for every potentially offensive word, “micro-aggression”, or (heaven forbid) nuance to which anyone might have a negative reaction that “triggers” them. I would be fired, and my face plastered on social media for praying with or for or over my students or their families. This is not an exaggeration. It is our current reality. It has reached its ugly tentacles even into my family.

As I look at media and national leadership (on all sides of every aisle), I find myself thinking, “Father God, when did they teach us to hate each other?”

Consequently, you are no longer foreigners and strangers, but fellow citizens with God’s people and also members of his household, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the chief cornerstone. In him the whole building is joined together and rises to become a holy temple in the Lord. And in him you too are being built together to become a dwelling in which God lives by his Spirit. - Ephesians 2:19-22

Paul says the most scandalous things in Ephesians. There is not space here to list the dozens of them, but CHURCH, you have to choose. Well, really all of us, but CHURCH, you especially. Which voice dictates how you go forward from this moment of reckoning? Will it be the one that calls us to unity (to submit to one another out of reverence for Christ) that we might actually be built up together? Or will we choose to follow the voices that call us to divide so that they can conquer us? Will we choose to come together by the power of the grace of God or continue use our own power to point fingers at whatever group we are supposed to hate?

Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. - Ephesians 4:29

And which voice will you be? And how will you use it? Will you look for words to build up or tear apart?

Whatever you choose, you’d be wise to consider a scandalous truth. Someone without a hashtag has a stake in our division.

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. -Ephesians 6:10-12

This has rambled for far too long by now. If you got this far, thanks for sticking with me. I pray for the strength to continue to choose love as best I can, to choose to allow the Spirit to speak the Kingdom of God into and through my life and household and sphere of influence. I’m going to choose to do my best not to be offended or to purposefully offend during this season when one with a stake in our division is working so effectively to confuse and pit us against each other. May God convince each and all of our place (by grace we have not earned) at the table, in our array of shades, as a single and much beloved family that bears His image.

Love to you all in Christ,

Kevin