I am sitting on the back patio of my new home. Still blown away how God does things in seasons that seem that those promises are impossible. Since moving in, we have painted every wall at least three times. That is another story. We have unpacked and settled in. We watched from this same back porch a family of sparrows move in, hatch, and move out. One more simple reminder of the season of life Rachael and I are in. Seasons that move and shift quickly.
In that same month, we have endured a pandemic. We have watched racial tensions bubble up into a boil in our country. We have swiped and scrolled through content and conversations on platforms that were meant to connect us but only seem to drive deeper divides. In the midst of all this, I have remained quiet. Not necessarily for a lack of things to say, mostly because what I would say would just be drowned out by voices louder than mine. Not necessarily, better words than mine or worse words, just louder words. So in the stillness of my back porch with new silence of the sparrows having moved out, I find this window of a morning to put some words out.
Let’s state up front for the world who I am: white, evangelical, conservative, and male. Instantly, in your mind you have judged me. You have lumped and clumped me with an image you have pre-determined in your thinking based on your experiences and your information about what those words mean. In truth, some of your judgements may be right, but many may be wrong.
I am not political. I have spent most of my adult life ignoring politics on both sides. I get exhausted from the rhetorics. I get fatigued of the fighting. I am angered by the wholesale support into any and all parties of our political system. I am deeply proud of our freedoms. I am grateful that my words on this page are guarded by those liberties. I am thankful for the right to assemble and gather and pray and worship in the way I choose. I am proud of those freedoms.
Recently at the dinner table in conversation with my 16 year old bonus daughter who has all the passion and knowledge to make an impact, I made this confession: I am more a citizen of the kingdom than a citizen of the United States. In his letter the apostle Peter said this:
“Dear friends, I urge you, as foreigners and exiles, to abstain from sinful desires, which wage war against your soul. Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits us.”
1 Peter 2:11-12 NIV
My passport says citizen of The United States of America, but I hope my heart and my life scream foreigner, stranger, and exile. I hope my words and actions say “citizen of heaven”. I hope my life says black lives matter, white lives matter, unborn lives matter, death row lives matter, Dr. Murphy my elderly neighbor across the street matters. I hope the pages of my story read that I lived unselfish and unapologetically for Jesus. I hope that I am judged not by the exterior labels that come with my skin color, my religious choices, or my gender, but by the conversations we have and connections we have made. I hope you see the heart of the white, Christian, man and not just the stereotypes placed on me. My very hope is that when you see me, you see Jesus. My prayer for myself is that my eyes see past your skin, your gender, your choices, your religious beliefs to see what the Latin language called “imago dei” or the image of God. Created and crafted in you is a whole being meant to reflect the goodness and glory of the Creator.
As a person that works hard to let the Bible lead my understanding on how to live and conduct life, the words of Scripture challenge me to love the outcast, the bi-racial, the one’s not like me, as myself. Each one of these Jesus illustrated in his life and teachings. The “imago dei” is not always seen at a skin level, it often requires us to look deeper into a person to see it.
I am working hard to see it in everyone. Even when they work really hard to hide it.
Imago Dei,
Jeff
