Forgive Me

Forgive me. Forgive my arrogance. Forgive my statements of ignorance. Forgive my unspoken, but definitive thoughts of superiority. Since I, for so long, saw you as the minority. I grew up in a white-filled town, People of color were almost nowhere to be found. It was not segregated, no, not at all, But my eyes only saw “sameness” in my school halls. My textbooks were penned by mostly Caucasian writers, Who didn’t teach me African Americans were the strongest of fighters.

Multiple, ignorant voices teaching every white student, That the invention of the cotton gin was darn right prudent. I was taught our country’s prosperity was due the white man’s plantation,

But I’ve learned since, it was his captives who birthed this nation. Why doesn’t this make waves. When will we say, “America was built on the backs of slaves.”

I still have a lot to learn, and I make so many errors,

But as the scales continue to fall I want to be better.

So I’m asking you to forgive me. Forgive me for not seeking to understand the employee at the nail salon,

Or the man on the roof working so hard at dawn. Forgive me for having wrongly speculated,

That we are living in a post-racist world. Your pain is not dated.

Forgive us for the Sunday school depictions, That have taught us to believe that Jesus was a description, Of a Caucasian, blue-eyed, English-speaking man.

No this was not God’s plan.

The Hope of the world is dark-skinned, non-English speaking Jew, who never hung out with white people.

I, and my light skin, am not His equal. No. I am the ethnic minority in the kingdom of God.

Huh. Now to many white ears, that sounds rather odd.

Jesus set aside HIS power, HIS privilege, and HIS position. Because He had a greater mission. Listen. This Middle-eastern man, laid all that down and came into the conversation,

And gave us the truest picture of reconciliation.

Revelation 7:9, should awaken us from slumber, This multi-racial church, an assembly, that no one can number,

Standing before the throne and before the Lamb, Wearing robes and holding palms in their hands. They are not looking at each other’s skin, Their eyes are on their Savior, He is their win. Their perspective is an eternal one, The hatred of this earth, of that, they are done.

And I believe you and I, Heaven’s imager bearers,

Can bring this here, we can make it much better.

With God by our side, leading us on, Holding hands together bringing Heaven upon,

The earth. So others who see us, see that. We need a NEW education, a reminder, reset.

That we can’t give up on reconciliation, no not yet.

Therefore we get over our differences. We go across the street. We spend time with those who don’t look like us and give the desire for comfort a backseat.

We teach our kids the past, and we show them God’s grief, But we train them to see different, with the eyes of their Chief. We say, “I’m sorry”, and “Please forgive my old ways”, But we don’t give up if it’s not met with hugs and “let’s play”. We enter into the pain, we forgive the stupid things said, We change our hearts until the old us is dead.