The Fire This Time

"The energy that was buried with the rise of the Christian nations must come back into the world; nothing can prevent it. Many of us, I think, both long to see this happened and are terrified of it, for though this transformation contains the hope of liberation, it also imposes a necessity for great change. 

 But in order to deal with the untapped and dormant force of the previously subjugated, in order to survive as a human, moving, moral weight in the world, America and all the Western nations will be forced to re-examine themselves and release themselves from many things that are now taken to be sacred, and to discard nearly all the assumptions that have been used to justify their lives and their anguish and their crimes for so long."

James Baldwin, the fire next time.

The Word Apocalypse comes from the Ancient Greek word "apokalyptein" meaning to "uncover, disclose, reveal." Only within the last one hundred years or so did it come to refer to the climactic end of the world. No doubt, this world evolved to this meaning due to modern-day interpretations of the early Christian writer John and his vision of God's return to Earth, known as The Revelation (the apocalypse.)

An apocalypse in the original sense is different from the invasion-like event called "the Rapture" I remember learning about in church when I was a boy. The Revelation I was taught about was mainly about this distant God who came to covertly vanish people from the eath and rescue them to heaven. The rescue event would take all the good ( and incidentally mostly White ) people away from the evil world while it burned down. After all the “good people” were gone then God would come back and wage a bloody war on the remaining nations of the earth. This was what I believed was The Apocalypse. This type of doctrine was a feature of dispensationalism which was invented in the early 1800s by John Nelson Darby.

A real apocalypse, by contrast, asserts that there is only one reality. This reality can be covered or hidden. once it is revealed again an apocalypse occurs. The truth of an apocalypse is that the hiding had just as much of a purpose as the unveiling. One of the best and least asked questions when one is in the presence of an apocalypse is not what happens to trigger this unveiling but, "why was this truth hidden in the first place?" 

Maybe you were caught off guard by the events of summer in The United States in 2020. Perhaps you have been bracing for the impact for a while now. Maybe, like me, you were aware that the cancer of racism was still alive in America but was still surprised by how ill we were as a country. One revelation after another knocked on your door. The data from the department of justice, the housing authority, the protests, and the videos started to wrestle off the tightly sealed covering on your America. The rage, the noise, burning buildings, and spray-painted streets shook you to attention. 

Have you thought once during this time, "Is this what it felt like to live in 1965 during the civil rights movement?"

For some readers of this blog, this does not feel like an apocalypse, because these are realities that have been out in the open for generations. Perhaps for you this a reckoning. A moment when you will no longer take responsibility to manage the expectations of White people in this country. You've decided to speak up. Share your story. Turn on your camera. Pick up your pen or keyboard, and by doing so, open the door to our transformation. 

For other readers, this revelation is as, Balwin wrote, a moment we have longed for and of which we are terrified. This is the day of the Lord written about by the prophet Amos, "A day of Darkness not light." There is a lot of recalibrating that needs to be done in White Christians who are always praying for revival and hoping that it means some big worship service with music and prayer that makes people check the "Christian" box on the next census. The Bible is very clear on this. There is no revival without a renewed commitment to justice for very clearly defined people groups: the windows, the orphans, the foreigners, and the poor. Amos writes to this ancient desire of self-righteous people who want to steal resurrection without enduring the crucible of suffering:

"Why do you long for the day of the Lord? That day will be darkness, not light. 19  It will be as though a man fled from a lion only to meet a bear,  as though he entered his house and rested his hand on the wall only to have a snake bite him. 20  Will not the day of the Lord be darkness, not light— pitch-dark, without a ray of brightness? 21  "I hate, I despise your religious festivals; your assemblies are a stench to me. 22  Even though you bring me burnt offerings and grain offerings, I will not accept them. Though you bring choice fellowship offerings, I will have no regard for them. 23 Away with the noise of your songs! I will not listen to the music of your harps. 24 But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream!"

I think this passage makes evident what God thinks about revivals without justice. The Day of Lord is one moment that is experienced in two vastly different ways depending on the audience. For those who have had the boot (or the knee ) of oppression on their necks, The Day of the Lord is the resounding answer to their cries and prayers for a response from God. For those who have been too busy or focused on worship, colonizing in the name of “evangelism,” or too confused about what do about the oppression, the day of the Lord feels like violence. 

The scale of this racial apocalypse is more significant than we have seen in my lifetime, but it is not unlike other types of revelation where conflict has revealed truths about myself I wish we not true. Marriage, for example, has a way of making apocalypse a regular thing! When you are in any close and intimate relationship with any partner, it is the conflict that holds the key to your transformation. Without conflict, there is no way to get down to the invisible forces that keep you separated and at odds. Still, no one chooses to have a conflict ( some choose "confrontation," but that is not quite the same.) Conflict is inherently painful, embarrassing, and time-consuming. In conflict, we are forced to see our real selves, which is not as healthy and right as we thought we were. In conflict, we confront the mythology we've constructed about our origins and family traditions. Illusions fall away in conflict.

When, in the course of good conflict, it is self-evident that I was wrong and need to repent, one big temptation I feel is to escape into shame. I say escape because shame is always there to assert a story about who you are. Shame speaks in absolutes, painting a picture of yourself that is unchangeable and permanent. Shame makes you believe that you are doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over because it's who you are. Shame, to be clear, is a lie. Guilt, on the other hand, is not a permanent state. Guilt is what we feel when we make a mistake. Guilt catalyzes the actions of repentance and repair.

If you are White, I have a hunch that the news of the current American lynchings, the rage of the protests, and the growing body of historical evidence supporting the generations of systemic racism in our country has made you feel shame. You start to feel like just being White is now a sin, and you must carry the blame of a nations' racism. You feel afraid to say anything because you fear the wrath and rage around you, and it's too complicated to know how to begin. You are grieving your own loss, but you don't think you have the permission to express it because your pain is “lower” in the hierarchy of pain to others. I would encourage you to resist the false story of shame that lures you into simplistic views of yourself and the world. Accepting shame sometimes feels like justice because, in our twisted logic, we think penance is the same as repentance. Blame keeps you away from action. Push through to the guilt. Name specific ways you have personally failed to protect, support, or carry the load you have neglected.

I don't presume to know your situation or your story. You may be doing everything you can to be a force for reconciliation and peace in your world, but if you happen to feel stuck and a bit paralyzed by the anxiety you feel about this problem, here are a couple of ideas I have that might help.

You don't have to own the blame to be responsible.

The definition of responsibility is literally the ability to respond to reality. Blame wants ambiguous action for something you can't control, The Past. Blame wants you to live in the past. Responsibility is calling you into the present.

Ask yourself, "what is one thing I can do in the next two weeks to make a solid step in the right direction?" It's essential that this is only ONE thing and that there is a generous but specific time limit to act. Getting better in this is going to be a long process and requires realistic, deliberate action. When you have your one thing, then tell ONE person what you are doing. That's it. Limit yourself to doing just the one thing, but make sure you can do it within the time you give yourself.

Boldly make mistakes and follow.

Acknowledge the fact that you hate being wrong and looking stupid or weak.

Recognize that you are afraid of being misunderstood and mistrusted. 

Ok? Just get it out there in the open.

Now, start honestly trying something and make some mistakes.

Don't be afraid to make someone angry or hurt feelings.

Ask the questions without fear of reprisal and promise to listen.

Let the People of Color in your life know that you are going to be trying to be better, but you are just learning, and you're going to make mistakes 

Ask them to stop you and let you know when you did it wrong.

Follow their lead.

Apologize over and over and over. 

Keep checking in with your anxiety levels. Be curious about when you get offended or frustrated.

This kind of brave practice is really about adopting the posture of a student. Buddhists call it “beginner’s mind.” Yielding all your entitlements and privileges and rights to those on the underside of power is a brilliant strategy to finding real joy. Jesus demonstrated this perfectly, so if you need more tutorials on how to do it, just watch him. He had every reason and ability to call the shots and fix the world, but he chooses to serve the marginalized instead. If you want to be with Jesus, he is always with the poor.

I honestly don't know how to wrap up all of this. Putting all my thoughts down for you has been a way for me to process my grief and repentance. I'm also going to be working on my "one thing" this week, so I don't waste another perfectly good apocalypse.