White Southern Baptist Racist Preacher


            I have sat down to write many many times since I last published a blog. Either my mind was scattered or my calendar was. So, after I was interrupted by my schedule and my brain yesterday I made a decision that the first thing I would do today was write. So I did. And this is what came out…

            Have you ever profiled someone? I’m sure you have or you wouldn’t really be human. I don’t mean that you’re a bad person but in a moment you may have looked at someone and in your mind said, “I’ll bet she is ___________.”

            We are funny that way. Society tries to dictate to us what people are supposed to say or become simply because of a characteristic. For example, wealthy people are smart, poor people are dumb, white people are racist, black people are lazy, church people are hypocrites, young people are rebellious, old people are grumpy, pregnant teenagers are sluts, police officers are arrogant, preachers only care about money, and, well you get the picture. And while you may find examples to back up your hypothesis about each type/class of people I can give you multiple examples of the same type/class of people that go completely against what you may think.

            And chances are you don’t appreciate being profiled yourself. As a white person, I get very irate when called a racist as I was a week or so ago. I must tell.

            The cliff notes version of the story is this. After visiting the church a couple of Sundays this older white man wanted to speak with me. I said that would be great (because I always enjoying educating people on our church since there are so many rumors and lies told about us). After some small talk and him raving about how much he loved the church he asked me a question.

            “Are you a Republican or Democrat?”

            Uh oh, this will not end well, I thought to myself. But I answered. “I usually vote Republican, but I try to vote my beliefs and not a party.”

            His response, “So you are one of those white southern Baptist racist preachers, huh?”

            ……. Silence………more silence……I better count to 10 before I throw him out my office window….1, 2, 3, 4, 5, …oh what tha crap, let’s just get this over with.

            “Excuse me!” I responded while trying to decide how I wanted to launch my attack. Fists? He was old; I could punch him in the heart or kick out a knee. Battle of the minds? I’m usually out gunned on this type… No, let’s see how this plays out.

            I resisted the urge to use every white man’s defense on be labeled a racist. “I have black friends” which I always find absolutely hilarious. It’s even better when they start naming them. I took a slightly different approach, which was this. I cannot for the life of me remember verbatim what I said but this was the jist of it…

            “Every person is entitled to their opinion even it its wrong. I don’t agree with most people most of the time but I am secure enough in who I am not to argue over every little thing. I am white. I am southern. I am not Baptist but I like a lot of them (at this time I should have said, “I have Baptist friends.”). I am not racist. I am a preacher. (At this moment he took a breath to speak and I held up one finger and said…) Before you interrupt me I want you to know something about me.

            I believe that I live in the greatest area of the greatest country in the world. I believe that politics are an important part of our society but people put too much emphasis on politics and not enough emphasis on faith, hope and love. To politicians those are campaign slogans. To me, they are life. I am not ashamed of being southern, or white, or a preacher. I will not apologize for either of the three because I only got to choose one, the other two were chose for me. I will explain who I am to you in these terms and then I have a project for you to do (which I wanted to say was jump out my window so I don’t have to get up and throw you out).

I believe that faith is the most important element in my life. MY FAITH, which I do not force on anyone, even though it would make everyone better, makes me who I am. I serve a God and have a Savior which demands me to be a good person full of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. And my guide for living says you can’t use law to impose these things. They have to be done through faith.

            Hope isn’t about politics; it’s about a better ideal. My hope isn’t about whether my children will go to college or not but whether they become good people. No, Godly people! Hope isn’t about the economy; it’s an ideal that the world would be better with Christ involved. And contrary to many people who share my faith they don’t share my idea that faith and hope and love can’t be mandated by the government. Hope is about a family. A black family, a white family, a Latino family, and every mixture of every family sitting down together and deciding that Jesus gave us an example and we should follow it. Not what you see, sir, but what you read and choose to believe. Hope is about the cross.

            Sir, I love people. I genuinely try to love everybody. Even my enemies, which as a preacher there are some out there and you are close to becoming one. I don’t see color or race or social status. I don’t judge based on what I see, or at least I try not to, I try to go into every interaction with the idea that this may be a great relationship someday. Love is not given or received in politics; it is given and received in relationships. God is my standard and he loved me so much that he would sacrifice even His own Son for me. Jordan doesn’t want me to, but I want to love that much. I try to love to the very end. Politics suck. They suck because there are very few real people in politics. The scoreboard is skewed. The measuring stick is popularity. My measuring stick is my integrity. And if someone misunderstands me, my popularity is affected. If someone gets to know me, my integrity is showcased.

            So here is your project. Get to know me. Watch me. I dare you. Watch me; get to know me, then judge me. Don’t judge me on what you see because then, sir, you are the racist. I don’t mind being judged. As a matter of fact, I welcome it. I want to be judged. But I want to be judged on who I am and not what I look like. As does every person everywhere. I invite you to get to know me, come back and talk all you want, but leave your politics somewhere else because if you bring those into my church and my office again, I will probably eloquently explain where you can put them and may even help you get them there.”

 

            And at that the elder gentleman looked stunned. But amazingly enough he stayed. He apologized if he offended me. To which I said, “I don’t get offended. I don’t let anyone have that much power over me.” He stayed and talked for several more minutes before he got up to leave and thanked me for my time. I again stated that I would love the opportunity to get to know him. He said that he thought he might like that.

             I don’t know if that was the start of a relationship or good fodder for his campaign stops but I hope the former. I hope he and you understand that what I said to him was not made out of arrogance but extreme humility. I want to become so transparent that as Paul did in the New Testament, I can do today and say, “Imitate me, as I imitate Christ.”

 
Pastor Dad (Southern white preacher, Help us Lord!)

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Winning

But if not...

Kelcey and her Koran