It has been so long since my last post, it would be fair to ask if I had given up on it altogether. The answer to that is: no, I have not. I have been struggling with how to write this post for quite some time.
The fact is, the Lord has been speaking to me about some things. These things that, I believe, are part of why I am living here again after almost 30 years on another continent.
I struggled with this post because it will be breaking new ground for me, and I have to admit, it is scary. What I am about to say will not sit well with some, I think. What I am about to say will put me right in middle of things, and I do not know if I am ready for it. But, there are things that need to be said, and it is time for me to say them. It will not be easy, so bear with me.
The deaths of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd struck a nerve with a lot of people, including me. I have struggled with how to describe what I have felt and continue to feel about these deaths. Disappointment, sadness, and outrage begin to describe what I feel, but they are, and remain, just words. In fact, any effort to put these feelings into words is going to fall short.
But, I have to try. I simply do not dare remain silent any longer.
I have lived now in the United States for almost 1 1/2 years after living nearly 30 years — almost my entire adult life — in Germany. During my years in Germany, I was able to observe the country of my birth as an outsider (something I highly recommend, by the way). I was able to more clearly see the jagged edges of our culture we seem to overlook when we are living right in the middle of it.
I was able to more clearly see problems like systemic racism that still exist in the United States and have far too long been swept under the rug or simply not acknowledged at all.
But it still took a journey to get where I am today.
I saw the deaths of Trayvon Martin, Eric Garner, and Michael Brown, among others, on the television and in the Internet.
I saw the reactions and protests following these killings.
I felt a lot of the same emotions I am feeling now: disappointment, sadness, outrage.
I asked myself, “how can this keep happening?”
Then, I saw the inevitable counterattacks: digging into past actions, analyzing every aspect of the incidents to somehow find justification for what had taken place. I have to admit, after a while, I did not know what to think anymore. It just seemed inconceivable to me that these people would just be killed without some kind of provocation.
My thinking was wrong.
But I did not want to go there.
I watched and read from Germany how Colin Kaepernick’s non-violent protest in the form of taking a knee during the National Anthem at football games was vilified.
We heard: he hates America.
We heard: how can he disrespect our flag?
I thought: what is more important, a symbol of our country, or the flesh-and-blood people living in it?
I thought, but did not say anything.
See, I did not want to go there. It was too painful. I did not want to get into the middle. Besides, for me at the time, it was happening “over there.”
I lived 30 years in a country that has spent the last 75 years with the Holocaust in their history, considered among the worst crimes against humanity in the history of the human race. The lesson from that time is still being learned today. It is taught to children with the sober warning: something like this can NOT be allowed to happen again. You see, Germany knows from experience: NOBODY is immune. ANYONE is capable of horrible things.
But, I tried to argue with myself, I was born and raised in the United States of America. I grew up in an integrated town. I went to school together with people of color. We were, and still are, friends. I served in the military with people of color. We were, and still are, friends. I grew up with the belief that we had put the racism of the past behind us, and I was proud of that “knowledge.” Yes, there were still ignorant people out there, but they were certainly the exception…
Weren’t they?
Over time, I have to admit, I knew different in my heart, but did not want to go there. The alternative was too painful.
When I was in the military, some friends of color tried to explain the concept of white privilege to me, before it was called white privilege. I did not get it.
I was not born with a silver spoon in my mouth, I argued. I could not grasp that the privilege was not in what I had, but in what I did not have … what I did not have to live with.
I did not want to go there, you see. It was too painful.
Now, in the last months, we have seen more senseless deaths. There can no longer be any doubt: we have a problem with systemic racism.
We are seeing the protests, some less than peaceful, that have resulted.
And now, of course, we are seeing the inevitable counterattacks. Protests are being vilified.
We hear: violence is not the answer.
No, it is not, and I in no way condone violence or rioting. But, I have to say, I can understand how it got to this point.
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. said: “riot is the language of the unheard. And what is it America has failed to hear?…”
Perhaps we should have paid more attention to those “taking a knee” protests at the football games, instead of putting more value on our nation’s flag — a symbol — than people in protest who only ask to live in the same peace and safety as others who have less melanin in their skin.
Do not understand me wrong. I love this country. I served this country proudly in the military and have never regretted it. But I have to take a stand and say this: our country has to be about more than symbols, especially if those symbols take precedence over the protest of an injustice.
“He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” Micah 6:8
I had to ask myself: am I acting justly if I see injustice and do not say anything?
Now, it is no longer happening “over there” for me. Now, it is where I am living. After those years of observing as an outsider, I am now in the thick of it, and feeling those emotions once again, with even more intensity.
Disappointment…
Sadness…
Outrage…
Shame…
I am ashamed.
I am ashamed that this still happens in the United States.
I am ashamed that my brothers and sisters of color have to “be careful” when doing things I take for granted, like driving a car, jogging down a street where I do not live, or even just being outside, or sitting in my own living room.
I am ashamed that I remained ignorant of the problem for far too long — that for far too long I held onto the belief we were “past all that” when it was still going on around me.
I am ashamed of the privilege I have had at others’ expense — that privilege of what I do not have to experience.
But most of all, I am ashamed that I made myself complicit by keeping silent when I should have been speaking out.
I am ashamed for those thoughts in the back of my head that said: “there must be more to the story. It can’t be that simple.”
That ends now.
So, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Phil Rigden. I am a native Ohioan who ended up in Michigan, after a 30-year stopover in Germany.
I am a pastor. How I got there is a long story for another time, but I take seriously the responsibility that comes with it.
I am here to admit that I am privileged and ignored the fact.
I am here to admit that I was silent when I should have spoken.
I believe the Holy Spirit came down at Pentecost to enable the Apostles (and all of us) to take the good news of the Kingdom of God everywhere — and that good news is this: we can once again have the relationship with God for which He created us. In that relationship, made whole through Jesus Christ and filled with the Holy Spirit, the Kingdom of God is IN US and we have the privilege of being the Kingdom’s ambassadors in a broken world. In that healed relationship with God, we can experience the healing of human relationships which were broken by sin.
I believe the Kingdom of God is about crossing boundaries, tearing down walls, and building tables.
So, I am here at the table to invite my brothers and sisters of color to come and sit. Let’s have the difficult conversation.
I know it will not be easy. I expect it will be painful.
I know I will hear some things that will make me uneasy. I know I will have to confront things in myself, but I want and need to take that step.
I want to hear what is going on from your point of view. I do not want to be silent any longer. I want to stand and speak out with you.
I want to invite my white brothers and sisters to come and sit as well. It is time to swallow that pride. It is time to hear those things that make you uncomfortable. If you are Christ-followers, you know that “God is light; in him there is no darkness at all” (1 John 1:5b). It is time to let His light shine into that dark corner where you don’t want to go.
Yes, it will be painful. There is no getting around the pain, but in that pain there is healing.
We can experience the joy of healed relationships with one another, just as God in Jesus Christ allows us to experience a healed relationship with Him.
Who’s with me?
The Road Less Traveled 