Trying to Move Away from Discouragement? There’s a Better Way

Recently, a political figure’s spouse was accused of plagiarism.  In this day when a politician can expect every “jot and tittle” of a speech to be scrutinized by the media, it is puzzling how advisers ever allowed the speaker onto the podium with that speech.  The whole matter may remain a footnote mystery of this campaign. 

As a writer, I don’t like plagiarism.  So, as you read this post should something seem familiar, don’t call Matt Drudge; I am quoting myself.  I’ve extracted some material from an earlier post, elaborating on it just a bit.

I’ll begin by retelling a story.

Dr. Brewster Higley was born in Rutland, Ohio in 1823, a city his grandfather had founded.[1]  Higley went to college in Indiana and became a physician, returning to Ohio to open his first practice.  He would eventually become an ENT specialist (ear, nose, and throat).  It’s probably just as well he didn’t pioneer as a marriage counselor.  Here’s a summary of the doctor’s experience.

Dr. Higley married five times and fathered three children.  It’s generally believed his first three marriages ended tragically when his wives succumbed to injury or disease, but some biographers suggest his second wife abandoned him.  Following his first three marriages, Brewster married Mrs. Mercy Ann McPherson, a widow, on Feb. 28, 1866. The woman apparently did not live up to her name, “Mercy; ” or she was the source of the lament “O mercy.”  The two had a tumultuous relationship and Dr. Higley felt compelled to leave his children with relatives in Illinois and secretly move away.  He found his way to Smith County, Kansas, in 1871.  Four years later his marriage mercifully dissolved by default on Feb. 9, 1875. One month later, on March 8, 1875, he married Sarah Clemons, his final wife.

In Kansas, Higley took advantage of the Homestead Act and claimed some land in Smith County.  Theoretically, homesteaders were supposed to improve their land but I found an article that said the land and the cabin he built looks about the same today as it did nearly a hundred and forty years ago.

Sometime around 1872, after Higley moved to Kansas and before his final marriage, Higley wrote a little poem he called “My Western Home.”  He had a friend set it to music and it became one of the most popular songs in American history. 

In Higley’s original poem, which eventually became the song known as “Home on the Range,” he pictures the west as that place “where seldom is heard a discouraging word….”  I used to live in the west and I’m pretty sure that wasn’t true, even in Higley’s day.  Of course, maybe a few sour notes about the weather, cattle prices, and poor crops didn’t sound so bad after what he may have heard from his fourth wife.  But I’m not going to get into that.

Higley’s poetic claim notwithstanding, discouragement knows neither geographical nor age boundaries.  The most spiritual among us are not immune.

The story of Paul's first visit to Corinth is unique because we have his own commentary on his emotional and spiritual state when he came to the city.  Listen to what he says,

“I came to you in weakness and fear, and with much trembling.”

Another translation renders the verse this way:  “...when I came to you I was weak and trembled all over with fear.”  And, still another says, “I came before you weak, nervous, and shaking with fear.”

In short, Paul was truly discouraged; he had been robbed of the courage he needed to keep going. 

There were several reasons why Paul was so discouraged at this time in his ministry.  His spiritual and moral sensibilities had been shocked by visits to Athens (where it’s said there were more gods than men) and Corinth (a city whose motto could have been “What happens in Corinth, stays in Corinth.”)  Just as significant Paul was physically drained and separated from his friends—alone during this crisis.

In our day, those last two frequently seem to be connected.  Many of us work too hard and when we finish work, we are alone.

In her book, Generation Me: Why Today’s Young Americans Are More Confident, Assertive, Entitled—and More Miserable Than Ever Before, Dr. Jean Twenge reports on how many young Americans simply work too many hours to have time to make friends.  She writes, “Friends of mine who are lawyers and accountants often find it difficult to spare the time for a movie, a phone-call to a long-distance friend, or a casual chat with a neighbor.”[2]  Twenge cites other studies that say moderns hesitate to share problems with others because they know their “friends” are too busy to listen.[3]

About the time this Twenge’s book was published, Pat and I visited London.  One evening we decided to forego finding a restaurant or using room service, opting instead to get something from the prepared food department at the Marks and Spencer’s across Edgware Road from our hotel.  When we got to the store, we stunned. The crowd of young men and women was three deep in front of the cold cases of sandwiches and salads.  They weren’t chatting with each other.  No one was laughing.  Everyone just grabbed a meal, bought it, and headed off to his or her apartment to eat and get ready to face another day.  

Of course, today, some of those young people will be heading to their flats to eat their simple meals in front of a computer screen as they attempt to finish a project begun at the office.  When I was a child and heard the 3:30 whistle at the steel mill, I knew my father would soon be home from work.  And when he was home, he was home.  He couldn’t bring home the “sand washer,” “the cooling tower,” or whatever else he worked on as a pipefitter.  Cyber-technology has allowed the job to reach into our homes and demand even more of our time and energy.

Fatigue and loneliness are two major ingredients of discouragement.  You can’t even hum “You and Me Against the World” without it sounding hallow.  It probably helps to be married but often your spouse comes home exhausted as well. 

Fatigue and loneliness are often exacerbated by the stress caused by fear of losing a job.  Knowing your job could be sent off to another continent or given to a younger person causes sleepless nights that only add to the fatigue. 

Dealing with fatigue and loneliness demands a proactive response. 

While the Bible is not about friendship, it does contain examples of great friendships (Jonathan and David) and some pointed counsel about friendship, especially in Proverbs.  And, of course, the creation story reveals that God made us for human fellowship, to give the fullest meaning to the verdict that “man” being alone is “not good.”

Perhaps the most relevant point the Bible offers about friendship is its insistence that those who wish to have friends must take the initiative in making friends.  God occasionally sends people our way to help relieve our loneliness but the responsibility of cultivating and maintaining the relationship is ours. Shortly after coming to Corinth, Paul met Priscilla and Aquilla.  They would become friends and co-workers.  Paul’s frequent mention of the couple in his letters suggests he maintained close contact with them for years.

Facebook posts seldom produce such friendships.  Real friendship demands time, face-to-face encounters, and the sharing of ideas, not just epigrams and quips. Finding the time is a challenge but worthwhile relationships often do.

At the same time, dealing with fatigue or reducing fatigue from the workplace may require creativity and effort. 

It begins with making sure you are in the best possible health.  A visit to our doctor might be in order, especially if your fatigue seems chronic.  Once the status of your health is confirmed, there may be some practical actions you can take. 

The same cyber-technology that sometimes leads to more work or, at least, more intrusive work, may provide some options for workers.  Some employers recognize that it doesn’t matter where the work is done as long as the work is done.  They are allowing workers to spend a day or two working from home during the week.  This doesn’t mean less work but it may mean the work is done in a more relaxed atmosphere where breaks aren’t accompanied by office gossip or gripe fests.  In fact, the worker may even be more efficient with the thermostat set high or low, according to personal preference, as James Taylor or Taylor Swift plays in the background.

If just being at the workplace drains your energy, you might consider approaching your employer about the possibility of working from home a day or two each week. 

At this point you might expect me to recommend getting into a good church where you can make friends and find some focus for your energy besides work.  I still believe in the value of the local church but I know many people don’t, especially younger Americans.  They believe the church is both hypercritical and hypocritical. 

I wish I could simply deny the charges but I can’t.  Some churches are guilty of these flaws.  But not every church is.  Don’t give up on the church because of a church.

But be aware: some churches may unwittingly add to your fatigue.  They promote the unhealthy behavior we see in some Christians.

These Christians cannot relax.  These folks are in a “church mode” all the time.  You can imagine them at Halloween, telling their children, “There’s going to be lots of pirates and witches out there but we want be a positive influence so Tommy you’re going as Billy Graham and Suzy you’re going as Lottie Moon.”  If these folks don’t burn out, they’ll eventually become churchly workaholics—feeling that they’re failing God if they don’t have half a dozen jobs.  And they seldom understand why we wouldn’t want to join them.

While I really believe participating in a vital Christian fellowship might help heal your discouragement, I wouldn’t want you entrapped in church that adds to your fatigue and makes the likelihood of real fellowship remote.

Does that sound unspiritual, shallow?  If you think so, consider this open letter by David Crosby.  Crosby was the pastor of the First Baptist Church of New Orleans during one of the most difficult times in that city’s history, the post-Katrina recovery.  Here’s what this hard-working pastor said.

Emotional exhaustion is settling upon many of us. We have fought long and hard to reclaim our families, our homes, our companies, and our lives. And now we are just about to drop.

I have read that a great race horse has so much heart that he will run for the jockey until he kills himself. The jockey riding a great horse has to be acquainted with the physical limits and protect the horse from his own determined will.

So maybe it is time to stop and drop. You don't have to drop hard, and you don't have to stay down long. But for the sake of everyone you love, you have to take a breather.

I can hear your thoughts churning. People are depending on you-important people like children and spouses and aging parents. You are a caregiver every day. You are the chauffeur, the nanny, the nurse, and the maid.

You are the sole provider. You generate the only income stream. Everything goes south if you stop producing. Everyone depends on you.

All the more reason to stop and drop. The rat race will be okay without you for a day or two. You will not fix everything that still needs repaired and recovered in one fell swoop. We are in a 20-year marathon down here on the bayou, and we have to move out of crisis mode and into a sustainable pace with appropriate breaks.

The mountain of things yet to do seems overwhelming. Sometimes we fear that we are just digging futilely at the edge of the pile. Frustration combined with futility will wear out any hearty soul.

Stop and drop. It will increase your energy, lower your anxiety, and bring your world into better focus.

After all, everyone on the planet is recovering in some way. We are all "getting over" troubles of some kind. We cannot postpone love and life and recreation until we are fully recovered. You can see where that would leave us.

As we wrestle with discouragement, most of us would refuse to abandon our children and marriages to find some place where “seldom is heard a discouraging word.”  Higley would eventually discover that Kansas’s skies could be cloudy, to the point of spawning tornadoes; that along with the playful deer and antelope there are rattlesnakes and marauding coyotes.  We can’t escape all the forces that might rob us of our courage to keep going.  Such a theft is the essence of discouragement.

If those forces include fatigue and loneliness, there are resources we can use to resist their influence.    

---

[1]  Much of the following information is found in “Brewster Higley,” (.http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brewster_Higley_VI - cite_note-heritage-4) Accessed 30 July 2016.

[2]  Jean M. Twenge, Generation Me: Why Today’s Young Americans Are More Confident, Assertive, Entitled—and More Miserable Than Ever Before, New York: Free Press, 2006, p. 115.

[3]  Ibid.

The Prodigal's Parents

Luke 15:11-32

This is one of the most famous stories in the world.  One critic described it as the most beautiful short story ever written. 

The story of the Prodigal Son resonates with so many because of its reality.  We all know a good parent who has watched a son or daughter wander down the road to “a far country.”  Maybe you are that parent.

The story, as Jesus told it, tells of the son’s departure, his descent into the pigpen, his return home, and his father’s welcome.  While it tells us what happened to the son in that far country, it does not tell us what the father was doing back home.  It does not tell us how the waiting father spent his days.  Of course, Jesus wasn’t telling the story to describe family dynamics; he was making a point about God.  Still, the story is a good starting point for offering some biblical counsel to the Prodigal’s parent.  Even if you’re not such a parent, maybe something I say will help someone you know.

Before I go any further, let me define a term “prodigal.”  Of course, the word means “wasteful” but we’re not talking about a child who doesn’t clean his plate or who leaves her light on when she’s not in her room.   The parents of a prodigal only wish that were the problem with their child. 

Nor is your child a prodigal simply because he or she begins to disagree with you on some issue.  You are not the parent of a prodigal just because the daughter you raised as a Republican starts voting Democrat.  You are not the parent of a prodigal because the son you wouldn’t allow to play with toy guns joins the NRA.  The matter is graver than that.

By Prodigal I am referring to a child, of any age, who turns from the essential teachings of faith and morality you have taught them to begin to pursue a path leading to almost certain spiritual or moral disaster.  Remember, I’m talking about that child who turns from the essential or fundamental worldview you taught them, not the child who may begin to disagree with you on the particulars of that worldview.  In other words, if you raised your child as a Baptist and that child has become a Pentecostal, that child has not become a prodigal in the sense I’m using the term.

I’ve spent a while defining terms because I want you to understand I am talking about children whose spiritual welfare is threatened.  I want to offer counsel to the parents of such children.  I am not talking to parents who have trouble accepting that their children have minds of their own.

I hope what I say will be of help to those parents who day after day watch down the road and never see the sign of the prodigal’s return.  Inside they are wrestling with powerful emotions.  Rob Parsons teaches parents and churches in the UK about the pain of being a prodigal’s parent.  He writes.

One mother told me her experience: “I hear other parents talk with sadness about the day when their kids leave home and the nest will be empty, and yet I cannot wait for my daughter to go. I can’t honestly tell you that I do feel love for this child.”

But as this woman was speaking to me, I became convinced that what she was really saying was, ‘Help me to love this girl, who at times seems to have ruined my life. She has broken my heart, yet she is part of me – I cannot live without loving her.’

The truth is that many of us have been caught like rabbits in the headlights of a car by two powerful emotions – guilt and fear.

The guilt whispers to us, ‘You have failed as parents. If only you had done this or hadn’t done that, things would have turned out differently.’

And hot on the heels of guilt is fear … ‘What if my children make a mistake that will ruin their lives?’ … ‘What if they are hurt physically or become ill?’ … ‘What if they turn their back on my values?’

You may be experiencing those feelings or know someone who is.  What should parents of prodigals keep in mind?

1.  Parents of prodigals should keep in mind they are not alone.

 This may explain the appeal of Jesus’s parable.  Those hearing it may either cast themselves in the role of the wayward son or in the role of the abandoned parent.  The story transcends cultures.

Many other parents have faced or are facing the same situation you are facing.  You are not the first parent to face this crisis.  There are likely other such parent in your church or in your neighborhood.

Of course, you should never forget that God understands:  He has many rebel children.

2.  Parents of prodigals should keep in mind there are no guaranteed methods for raising a child.

Maybe you’ve heard the popular radio add.  It promises to fix your child’s behavior problems in one minute or less.  I am not kidding.  Here’s one mother’s testimonial, “If you say those words, you child’s behavior will change.”  I can’t help but wonder, what are those words?  Maybe, “this Taser has 50,000 volts.”  Of course, the ad doesn’t tell you the words to say—you have to buy the book.

John Wilmot once said,“Before I was married I had three theories about raising children. Now I have three children and no theories.”^[1]  I can appreciate that.  Most of us have heard advice from those who have not idea what we are facing. 

You may have faithfully tried the advice in the bestseller on Christian parenting, and your child still took off toward that far country.  There’s nothing wrong with you and there may be nothing wrong with the book, except the author had never met your child.  It may have been written in the quiet of the author’s study, as his or her children played outside, rebellious adolescence years away.

3.  Parents of prodigals should work to keep their other relationships healthy.

Stay close to your spouse.  Don’t let the situation drive a wedge between you.

Neither one of you has the right to abdicate responsibility for dealing with your prodigal.  Don’t play the “blame game.”  Your child doesn’t have perfect parents but neither do the children who never become prodigals.

You may have to stand ready to protect your spouse or your other children from verbal or physical abuse.

Mind the needs of your other children.  It’s easy to become so focused on your prodigal, you neglect your “good” children.

Stay in touch with your support system.  Trusted friends and fellow church members can be helpful listeners when you have to vent or just cry.

4.  Parents of prodigals should remember that God is as interested in working on them as He is in working on their child.

Your experience may be an opportunity to rediscover your dependence upon God.

Pray.  Focus on God’s faithfulness.  Allow God to set the agenda for your family.

5.  Parents of prodigals must sometimes do the toughest thing to help their prodigal:  Nothing.

Short-circuiting the consequences of bad behavior may be harmful to your prodigal.  (Imagine if the father in the parable had “sent a little cash” now and then to his son.  Would he have ever “come to himself?”)

God may be willing to give them more rope than we are.  

There may be occasions when you have to intervene to prevent magnifying a disaster, but that intervention should be minimal.  Suppose your prodigal loses so much gambling that he can’t keep up his car payments.  Losing his car may mean losing his job.  Giving that prodigal a bus pass might help him keep his job without destroying the lesson he needs to learn.

Please don’t misunderstand.  I am not saying you should abandon your child.  There may be times when you need to intervene in ways to limit damage.  If your child gets into legal trouble, you would be wise to hire an attorney rather than trust an overworked, under-experienced court-appointed lawyer.

6. Parents of prodigals should allow the experience to teach them empathy.

There are many parents of prodigals who need to know someone understands, to know someone is willing to show them grace.

The sad truth is there are plenty of people in our churches who are willing to sit on the judges panel when some member wrestles with a prodigal child.  The parent who’s had such a child should never join them.

7.  Parents of prodigals should not be surprised if there are those who would interfere with the homecoming.

The elder brother in this story reminds us that a child can stay at home but have a heart that is in the “far country.”  This brother knew nothing of grace and sympathy.

Some family members may want to keep the anger against the prodigal alive.  Some may not welcome their return because they now have to relearn how to be a family.

Churches should always be “prodigal friendly” because every one of us, occupying a pew in a church, is a prodigal who has returned home.

8.  Parents of prodigals should keep in mind that the odds appear to be in their favor.

 One study suggests that about 80% of prodigals return “home.”  That should be encouraging to most parents.

Of course, it doesn’t mean we can do nothing.     To say the least, we need to remember the importance of prayer, patience, and persistence.

Be willing to allow God to use His means to accomplish the homecoming.  The human instrument might not be someone you would never expect.

As a church, we should support and pray for the parents of prodigals we know.  We should pray for the prodigals who have gone from us.  We should pray that we have the opportunity to help some prodigal find the road back home.

---

^[1]Morgan, Robert J.: Nelson's Complete Book of Stories, Illustrations, and Quotes. electronic ed. Nashville : Thomas Nelson Publishers, 2000, S. 591

Not Just A Black and White Issue

Years ago a black woman began attending our services.  Betty, a retired schoolteacher, knew some of our members from an interdenominational Bible study she taught.  Invited by those members, she visited the church.  She kept coming.  Each Sunday she offered an insightful comment on my sermon; she especially seemed to appreciate their Biblical content.  Then one morning she asked if she could talk with me in private at some time.  We set up an appointment for early that week.

When Betty came to my office she seemed tense but got quickly to the point. “I’d like to join the church,” she said, “but I won’t do if it would cause you any problems.”  I was happy to tell her it would cause no problem at all, that the people would be thrilled she wanted to become a member. 

She relaxed and began talking freely.  “I’ve attended black churches my entire life,” she said, “but lately things have changed. I don’t think I can go anymore.”

“How so,” I asked.  I assumed she was about to tell me that black churches, like so many white churches, had begun to deny certain aspects of Biblical truth—the authority of the Scripture, the deity of Christ, the need for salvation, etc.  Her answer surprised me.

“The pastor of the church I attended for so long started preaching hate against white people. I know too many good white people and I can’t stand it.”

Not a little shocked, I recall saying something like, “Betty, we would love to have you as part of our church but maybe that’s just one pastor at one church.”

“No,” she said, “I’ve visited every black church in town and all of them are preaching hate against whites.”

Do I believe Betty visited every black church in Columbus?  No.  But, knowing Betty, I’m sure she visited enough churches to justify her statement.

Betty and I had our conversation nearly a quarter-century ago.  She passed away in the early 2000s.  I wonder what she would say about what is happening in our nation.

The kind of teacher who loved and was loved by her students, she doubtless would mourn every young black man killed by the police—or by gang violence.

A genuine Christian and a policeman’s widow, she doubtless would mourn the deaths of those policemen in Dallas this past week, praying for their widows and children—regardless of their race.

Betty was not naïve.  She knew racism was an ever-present reality.  Her visit to my office proved that.  If she was bitter about it, she never showed it, nor did she deny it.  An art student at Ohio State, she had dreamed of being a fashion illustrator.  She once showed my wife and me sketches she had drawn in the mid-forties.  They were beautiful and could have graced any magazine in the days before computer-enhanced images.  But, placing the drawings back in their tattered folder, she said her professor had told her no magazine would hire a black woman as an illustrator.  So, she became an art teacher.  No, it wasn’t fair.  But Betty trusted God and made a life inspiring students rather than selling couture. 

Again, I wish I could ask Betty her thoughts on what is happening.  I can’t so I’ve been reading—Facebook posts, newspaper editorials, and just listening. 

“What about black on black crime,” someone asks.  “That’s racist and irrelevant,” someone else responds.  A lot of people raising the specter of “black on black crime” may be racist but I’m not sure the issue is irrelevant.  If—fairly or unfairly—a community has a reputation for violence, is it likely a police officer entering that neighborhood is going to be just a little nervous, prone to draw a gun? 

The answer to that problem: Recruit better police officers.  Okay, but what does that mean?  It’s only in the movies you have police officers like Harry Callahan, Martin Riggs, or John McClane; fearless—to be sure—though just a little too quick with those guns.  (Besides, didn’t Riggs’s partner shoot an unarmed man at the end of LW2?)  We will never have officers immune to fear but we might be able to find officers who are less prone to act impulsively. 

First, we need to pay police a sufficient salary so that “moonlighting” and extra shifts are not necessary for police officers to support themselves and their families.  Not only will this attract better quality recruits, it will mean police officers are less likely to be fatigued while on duty.  I have not seen any statistics related to this matter but I wonder how many of the controversial shootings have taken place near the end of a shift or even a double-shift and how many of the officers involved were working two jobs. 

Second, we need to vet recruits very carefully.  I took an extensive psychological test before I was admitted to seminary.  Surely police recruits should face the same tests.  Maybe they do.  Of course, after meeting some of my fellow students, it was clear the seminary had ignored the results of those tests.  I wonder if police departments do the same.  But, having a few more slightly neurotic ministers let loose on society is not the same as having homophobic, racist, power-hungry bullies wearing badges. 

Don’t be shocked but I’ve been stopped four times by the police; three times were justified—speeding, not maintaining my lane, and failing to properly stop (what in Texas is called “a rolling stop,” but it was late at night, in a town with only one stop sign, and one police officer—I met him).  The fourth stop was unjustified (I was driving a Pontiac station wagon which goes from zero to sixty, eventually; given the circumstances, I couldn’t have been going as fast as the deputy from a Burt Reynolds movie said I was going).  From those experiences I received three warnings and one ticket.  Guess who gave me the ticket. I was visiting my brother-in-law, who was in the car with me; he knew the deputy and said he had a reputation as a bully.  And a bully is a bully.  I’ve known store managers who were bullies, teachers who were bullies, coaches who were bullies, deacons who were bullies, and even pastors who were bullies.  Weeding the bullies out of any profession, including the police, is a tough job.  The problem with police bullies is, of course, they carry guns.

No, I am not suggesting 25% of police officers are jerks; I am saying my experience with the police has generally been positive.  (I even respected the honesty of the officer I talked to after we were burglarized in Houston; he said there was very little chance we would get any of our stuff back.)

Of course, you can’t find many people much whiter than I am.  Some police officers apparently target black drivers just because they are black.  Dash cams and body cameras, recording every interaction of police and civilians, might reduce such behavior, especially if officers know they might have to explain why they stop far more black drivers than white drivers.  But the issue is rooted in more than the aggravation of an unjustified traffic stop.

Films, TV, and music all seem to foster the “cops against blacks” mindset.   According to an Associated Press report, black actor Sir Maejor said, "Black Lives Matter doesn't condone shooting law enforcement. But I have to be honest: I understand why it was done. I don't encourage it, I don't condone it, I don't justify it. But I understand it." How many will read that statement and think, “He is saying that given the circumstances shooting cops makes sense.”  Protests against shooting unarmed blacks I can understand.  Editorials against shooting unarmed blacks I can understand.  Sermons against shooting unarmed blacks I can understand.  But shooting white cops to protest shooting unarmed blacks—that, I don’t understand.  Surely no one imagines this will win support for the cause of racial justice.  

Sometimes even those we would expect to promote healing foster suspicion and hostility instead.  In March of last year, the Reverend Jeremiah Wright told a group of seminary students:  "We need to teach black and brown youth how to negotiate safely the militarized mindset of American snipers in blue uniforms, but simultaneously we need to fix the systems." (http://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2015/03/04/rev-jeremiah-wright-tackles-issues-of-race-violence/24357789/.  Accessed 9 July 2016.)  While admitting the system needs fixing, categorically describing the police as “snipers in blue uniforms” surely must fuel distrust toward all the police.  And those you distrust, you soon learn to hate.

Vetting candidates may help keep trigger-happy police officers off the streets, but every police officer wants to get home safely to his or her family.  Every police officer knows of officers killed during “routine” traffic stops.  Every police officer knows that “Adjusting for population, black men, overall, are 5 times more likely than white men to kill police officers.” (Peter Moskos, “Police Killing Whites and Blacks,” a post on Moskos’s blog, Cop in the Hood.  http://www.copinthehood.com/2014/12/police-killing-whites-and-blacks.html. Accessed 9 July 2016.)  Every police officer knows that a hate-the-cops litany is being repeated on the radio, on twitter, on Facebook; and, sometimes, in the movie theater. 

Peter Moskos, a City University of New York sociology professor and former Baltimore police officer, offers interesting insights on the issue of cops targeting blacks. First, he questions whether the charge can be sustained. I will not repeat his argument but it deserves to be considered whether you ultimately agree with him or not. Second, he suggests, that white cops regularly assigned to minority neighborhoods are less likely to respond to perceived threats by a member of that community than white cops who have little interaction with members of other races or ethnic groups.  In many school systems, new teachers (“rookies”) are assigned to the tougher schools while veteran teachers are believed to have earned the right to be assigned to schools with less-troublesome student populations.  Perhaps this helps explain why nearly half of new teachers leave the profession within three or four years. However the teaching profession handles its rookies, police departments need a better way. 

“The federal government should investigate every police shooting of blacks,” someone else declares.  (This being the same federal government Jeremiah Wright was talking about when he said unequivocally, “Governments lie.”)  Maybe if a policeman pauses a moment because he knows a tribunal is going to examine everything about the next action he takes, there will be fewer shootings.  Of course, what if during that pause the officer is shot?  And let’s face it, a substantial number of folks won’t believe the tribunal was fair if it says a cop was justified in shooting; a substantial number of folks won’t believe the tribunal was fair if it says a cop was wrong.

Still having a tribunal made up of citizens and, perhaps, former police officers judge each case would surely be better than having the cases tried on Facebook, twitter, talk radio, or You Tube.  A federal tribunal is less likely to be influenced by regional prejudices and loyalties.  Only such a tribunal could ask really tough questions, like why were the two Baton Rouge officers involved in the Alton Sterling shooting still partnered when they had both been accused of using excessive force in the past.  While they were cleared of the charges, we can be sure journalists and others will be reviewing the cases.  While I am not usually a fan of bigger government, a nonpartisan, multiethnic, police review board representing all regions of the country might be a good step to take.  It won’t make everybody happy but a lot of people are unhappy right now.

*******

Two days after the event, Pat and I were talking about the Dallas shootings with our younger son.  We were at a playground in a public park.  We were watching his son, our grandson play.  Aged five-and-a-half (the qualification is important to him), our grandson knew nothing of the shootings.  He was just having fun.  Through the trees, we could see the building nearest the park—a school building.  Nothing much distinguished the building, except its name: Columbine High School. 

Near the playground there is a memorial to the twelve students and one teacher killed on that shocking day in April 1999.  Given the circumstances, as much as the Dallas shootings may have been on our minds, our thoughts inevitably turned to Columbine.  Our son said, “I don’t know how I’d prove this but I feel like everything changed then.”  I think he meant violence had become more ruthless, more meaningless, more heartless; and, maybe, more inevitable. 

Columbine eroded our ability to be shocked.  Sure 9/11 shook us but we’ve since embraced an attitude that accepts school shooting as part of life.  Did you know that as of February 2016 there have been fifty school shootings since Columbine in which some 141 deaths have occurred and that there have been a total of 270 school shootings of any kind since Columbine?  I had no idea there had been so many.

Columbine seemed to give permission for unhappy, disappointed persons to say, “If I’m in pain, I’m sure as heck going to make sure others feel some pain.”  No, that doesn’t exactly fit the Dallas situation, except it’s probably easier for the aggrieved to justify violence since Columbine.

Columbine did change things and so did the coming of the new millennium.  At least, I think it did.  I haven’t shared this notion with many people.  Even my long-time Thursday lunch companions seemed at a loss for what to say when I explained my thinking to them.  They graciously avoided asking, “Have you lost your mind?” Still, I might as well share it with you.  I think the year 2000 brought a new attitude toward Jesus.  Oh, it’s not so much that people thought, “Great, he really isn’t coming; let’s party!”   But, suddenly it was okay to criticize Jesus, to mock him, to consider him passé.  Love your enemy, forget that.  Forgive those who hurt you, not on your life.  Treat the different as your neighbor, that’s not going to happen, they’re different.  While Jesus looked at a person and saw the image of God, we look at the black face, the white face, the brown face, the olive face and say if their face isn’t like mine, I can’t trust them.

My thoughts on the Dallas shootings and related events are just that.  My thoughts.  I don’t have special insight.  If you’ve read this far, it’s probably because you’re my friend (in the “friend” sense, not the Facebook sense.)  Events in Dallas, in Louisiana, and in Minnesota are racial issues.  They are police issues.  They are legal issues.  They are social issues.  They are, of course, moral issues.  But never forget those events are spiritual issues. 

Just before we were drafted into a game of tag with rules favoring five-and-a-half year olds, we returned to the subject of the recent shootings.  My son said, “Somehow everyone has got to get back to respecting one another.”

Sheriff Andy Taylor never carried a gun. (Listen, I’m an only child. One of my closest friends growing up was a B&W TV. Deal with it.)  Still, he did his job.  Of course, in the world of Mayberry people respected the law.  Then, too, Sheriff Taylor showed as much respect toward Otis the town drunk as he did toward Howard the town clerk. Those days are no more.  Naïve as it may sound, restoring mutual respect has to be a priority in fixing the system.

I think Sheriff Andy would agree.  I know Betty would.