It is a fact of life; things are not always as they appear. It is the same as the old, old adage; you cannot judge a book by its cover. This is also true for people, situations and congregations. One may experience a congregation one way, but it takes some time and effort to come to understand at a deeper level.
One summer evening in Pittsburgh when I was very young, maybe 5 or 6, our family went to an amusement park. It was hot and muggy; a typical summer night in Western Pennsylvania. We set our sights on a “FUNHOUSE”. For those who have never been inside such a place, the mirrors make your body look fat or skinny; contorting reality and twisting body image. The walls and floors are pitched at funny angles, the ceilings aren’t square, and there is very little light. The whole set up is designed to scare, panic and disorient. I was never so happy to leave a place, even though my big brother was there somewhere in the darkness. So, while dashing out of that house of mirrors, I came too quickly around a corner and ran headlong into black boy about my same age. I said, “You get outta my way, you n--ger!” Out of a child’s mouth often comes a reflection of the times and experiences of the culture; a mirror of the soul, some say. It was the early 60’s and images of racial tension, violence, and uncertainty abounded, even to a 5 year old boy. My older brother came up behind me and heard my denunciation, and immediately apologized. He made me apologize too. Ours was a Christian family, and we didn’t talk like that.
The boy (I can see him to this day) smiled broadly and replied, “He don’t mean nothin’ by it. He was just funnin’.”
Now, with adult eyes and modern sensibilities we can all condemn my public sin. I behaved badly. I was foul mouthed, hateful and aggressive. I acted the bully! What one might not know about my private self was that I was also abjectly and utterly terrified. (It’s no excuse, and I do not offer it as one either today or for yesterday.) What one might never have known, is that earlier that year I had spent several days in the Pittsburgh Hospital for Children.
Back then it was a sterile, green and white tiled institution where nurses wore white, pointed caps and everywhere smelled of iodine, alcohol and bandages. My roommate, another small boy, returned one night unconscious from surgery with a lot of tubes and bandages. Before morning he was gone to surgery once more, and I never saw him again.
A day or two later my own tests turned out negative, and I remember that my parents were visibly relieved -- a bizarre chapter in a young boy’s life. Leukemia was suspected, but it was something far more benign, and I went home to my rowdy siblings in the arms of grateful parents.
Enter the house of mirrors.
It was a hot and muggy summer night; not uncommon for Western Pennsylvania, where the Allegheny and the Monongahela come together to form the Ohio. Two young boys, breathless from their disorienting experience in a mirrored funhouse, collided. One of those boys was me.
I have learned since then that, when fear gets the better of us in the confusing darkness, we often say and do things which reflect the turmoil within and the ugliness around us. It’s no excuse, but it helps to understand a little of the inner struggle, which results in the outward sin.
I was so glad, when that black child offered forgiveness to me in exchange for my ugliness. I have never forgotten him! In that child’s actions, time and reflection have revealed the power and Grace of God to me. I've wondered what became of that child?
When life throws us into the mirrored darkness of hate, fear and disgrace, try to think before you speak. Try to listen beyond the moment to consider the consequences of your words and actions. And when you feel the fear rising within, look for your brother, who is always close at hand.
People are stressed and hurried. Situations are complex. Congregations are sometimes wounded. We are not always as we first appear. Given time, patience and Grace, perhaps we will come to understand eachother better, and grow from the experience.
Best,
Pastor Steven Warren
