There's terrible stuff going on in my neighborhood right now. Several homes and cars have been broken into in recent days. Reports of suspcious looking "blacks" have been circulating. Emails are zipping between neighbors about sightings, fears, police responses and ideas for increased security.
There is genuine reason for concern. Yesterday a teenager--indeed black--was arrested in the neighborhood and charged with burglary. It was reported he was wearing a ring found while ransacking one home. At another house, someone broke in while a child was home alone. The child hid in a closet while the thief swiped a laptop.
It seems we are under attack from two sources. The first is--obviously--the theives themselves. Whoever they are--it is unlikely the one teen arrested is working alone--they are targeting our neighborhood during this vacation season when so many houses are empty.
The second source of attack stems from our own fear, and the paranoia and racism it reveals. It causes us to look at suspicion at every black male we see. It encourages us throw up barriers from our neighbors.
My neighborhood is nice. The homes are spacious. The families who live in them--mostly white, but not all--are upper middle class, educated, engaged in community, caring.
Around our nice neighborhood are some homes that are not so big, not quite as nice, and occupied by families that are not quite as blessed economically.
It concerns me that in recent weeks there has been a lot of talk about ways to section off our homes from these others. I've heard the surrounding neighborhood described as a "ghetto" and some of those who reside there labeled "riffraff." I am confident that most of these neighbors, in truth, love their homes as much as we do, and also live in fear of crime.
We live in a troubled, fallen world. All over the globe people live in daily fear of a car bomb, a thief in the night, a drive-by shooting, a rapist wearing the uniform of a soldier, a missle from the sky. For those of us in the U.S. these are second-hand fears. We are for the most part insulated from the realities of evil imposed on our routines.
Yet I am seeing a little glimpse of what an up-close and personal threat can do to our--my--sense of charity, community and love of neighbor. When defenses go up, it seems love goes down. It is no wonder violence and hatred escalate in places like Iraq, Sudan and elsewhere.
It makes me marvel all the more at the love of Christ for those who brutally, angrily, riotously stripped him naked and took his life on the cross. When the attack was most intense he could yet say, "Father, forgive them."
There is terrible stuff going on in our neighborhood right now. Though our circumstances pale in comparison to other people and places, we feel under attack, and it is changing us.
Father forgive them. Father forgive me.
There is genuine reason for concern. Yesterday a teenager--indeed black--was arrested in the neighborhood and charged with burglary. It was reported he was wearing a ring found while ransacking one home. At another house, someone broke in while a child was home alone. The child hid in a closet while the thief swiped a laptop.
It seems we are under attack from two sources. The first is--obviously--the theives themselves. Whoever they are--it is unlikely the one teen arrested is working alone--they are targeting our neighborhood during this vacation season when so many houses are empty.
The second source of attack stems from our own fear, and the paranoia and racism it reveals. It causes us to look at suspicion at every black male we see. It encourages us throw up barriers from our neighbors.
My neighborhood is nice. The homes are spacious. The families who live in them--mostly white, but not all--are upper middle class, educated, engaged in community, caring.
Around our nice neighborhood are some homes that are not so big, not quite as nice, and occupied by families that are not quite as blessed economically.
It concerns me that in recent weeks there has been a lot of talk about ways to section off our homes from these others. I've heard the surrounding neighborhood described as a "ghetto" and some of those who reside there labeled "riffraff." I am confident that most of these neighbors, in truth, love their homes as much as we do, and also live in fear of crime.
We live in a troubled, fallen world. All over the globe people live in daily fear of a car bomb, a thief in the night, a drive-by shooting, a rapist wearing the uniform of a soldier, a missle from the sky. For those of us in the U.S. these are second-hand fears. We are for the most part insulated from the realities of evil imposed on our routines.
Yet I am seeing a little glimpse of what an up-close and personal threat can do to our--my--sense of charity, community and love of neighbor. When defenses go up, it seems love goes down. It is no wonder violence and hatred escalate in places like Iraq, Sudan and elsewhere.
It makes me marvel all the more at the love of Christ for those who brutally, angrily, riotously stripped him naked and took his life on the cross. When the attack was most intense he could yet say, "Father, forgive them."
There is terrible stuff going on in our neighborhood right now. Though our circumstances pale in comparison to other people and places, we feel under attack, and it is changing us.
Father forgive them. Father forgive me.
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