*Written by Pastor Jonathan in collaboration with Zarmon McCray

The tragic deaths of Breonna Taylor and Ahmaud Arbery and George Floyd have been agonizing to absorb. These three names, sadly, are just three of the most recent deaths we’ve witnessed as a result of police brutality. The words of the Apostle Paul ring true in my ears, “You were dead in your transgressions and sins, in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient” (Ephesians 2:1-2).   It’s obvious the ways of the world are clearly before us as we see cops abuse their power, as black men die in the hands of white men, as we see vandalism and destruction of property. Our country is hurting. Our country is burning.  

If you’ve chosen to read this, I’m grateful. I have the indescribable gift of pastoring a beautifully diverse people. I’m a white man, which means many of your backgrounds and experiences are vastly different than my own. The concerns that keep you up at night, the hurts you’ve experienced, your cultural narrative that has profoundly shaped you, again, are different than my own. Your choice to be at King’s Hill displays a level of trust, love, and care that I don’t take for granted. Your presence enriches the family of our church. Yes, believers in Christ are family, in the deepest sense. We’re told in Matthew 12 that an acquaintance of Jesus came up to him while speaking to a crowd, “Your mother and brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you.” He replied to him, “Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?” Pointing to his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers. For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother” (47-50).

I consider you my family. And as family, we bear one another’s burdens. I care about what bothers you and concerns you. And I admit that there are wide gaps in my understanding of your experiences, but love moves to see those gaps closed. They might not ever be fully closed, but we work to close those gaps as much as possible. I commit to loving you in this way. And I hope you will commit to doing this for one another.

As family, I am praying the prayer Jesus taught his disciples to pray: “…Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil” (Matthew 6:13). Watching the video of George Floyd, witnessing the destruction of our cities, what are we to see, what are to feel, what are we to do? How can King’s Hill embrace Jesus’ calling for his bride, the church, to be salt and light? Salt is a preservative. Light helps people see. Taking a man’s life is never salt or light. Considering yourself superior to another is never salt or light. Riots that lead to destruction and vandalism of a city (very different than rallies and peaceful protests) are never salt or light. 

More than ever, I’ve had to be in my Bible looking to a Middle Eastern Jew that came to disrupt not just one but two broken and flawed systems. One was the oppressive state institution of the Roman government. The other was the oppressive religious system of the Sadducees and Pharisees. His kingdom ultimately toppled both, though in surprising ways. 

Recently, Chelsea and I watched the Pilgrim’s Progress, an animated movie spun from the 2nd most popular book ever in print next to the Bible. This work portrays in allegory the journey of the believer. The man making this journey is named Christian (fitting) and despite the trials, hardships, and setbacks, he reaches the Celestial City, but only by staying on the King’s Path.

In my praying, I have been considering this path from the various perspectives represented in the unfolding tragedy of George Floyd. What is the King’s Path for us at King’s Hill in the midst of his murder and in the midst of the most recent riots and looting? If you’ve read this far, again, I’m grateful, but the words below are not easy. The King’s Path rarely is. If I were with you in person, I’d pause and ask that God might bring his Son into crystal-like clarity for us all. 

For the Filmer

I am thankful this cop was caught on camera. As a result, we have evidence to bring justice to George’s murder. But I’ve been challenged to think more could have been done. What if someone were brave enough to put their phone down and rush in to shove Derek Chauvin’s heel off of George’s neck? If I were there in that moment, what would I have done? Would I have resorted to filming, resorted to yelling, ‘Stop’, or would I have demonstrated an even greater love for George’s life? Would I have run to George’s side wrestling with Chauvin, even if I knew that would put me in harm’s way, even if I knew Chauvin might move his heel from George’s neck to my own? 

Our King was not an onlooker to injustice. He took action by embracing the brutal death of crucifixion. Except his death was not the sacrifice of one innocent life in substitution for another. He stepped in as the perfectly righteous and holy One and laid down his life for the wicked. What if George had killed those I so dearly loved, and I saw him begging for his life in pain? What would I do in that moment? I know what Jesus did.  

The path of our King is one that willingly accepted the horrors of the cross. If Jesus was willing to die for a wicked man like myself, would I have been willing to lay down my life in love for a stranger? The King’s Path confronts my lukewarmness towards justice, especially when pursuing justice might come at a great cost to myself. The King’s Path challenges any sort of bystander-like attitude and degrees of apathy my heart may hold towards the wrongs happening in front of me. Love looks like saying, “My life for yours.” 

 For the Rioter

I am thankful we live in a country that allows freedom of speech. This is a gift many in the world do not know. The ability to protest and rally together to see change happen, the ability to elect officials that will represent the overlooked, the ability to speak out against racism and other forms of evil should be exercised. These privileges are not enjoyed by all, so let us not neglect them. 

 But to those who use this moment of injustice to create further injustice is heartbreaking. I hated hearing about the black storeowner who spent his entire life savings on his business only to see it in flames. If there is anything in us that is happy or pleased or satisfied by this destruction, we have forgotten the King’s Path. On the night Jesus was praying in the Garden of Gethsemane, a mob came to arrest Jesus. Zealous Peter took out his sword and cut off the ear of one of the guards. Jesus rebuked Peter, “Put your sword back in its sheath” (John 19:10-11). In other words, Jesus was saying, “My kingdom is not swordsmen going at it. My kingdom doesn’t come by conquering those against us by means of violence. My kingdom comes a different way. My kingdom comes by mercy and love.” And to demonstrate this, he found the officer’s ear lying on the ground and restored his enemy’s hearing. 

Does the King’s Path not allow for anger? It definitely does. Jesus was righteously angry at the unbelief of the crowd as he arrived at Lazarus’ gravesite (John 11:33) and he was righteously angry when he went into the Temple and overturned the tables and made a chord of whips (John 2:13-16). Some have used this passage to justify the damage done to monuments and storefronts and vehicles. But while I have the prerogative to go into my own house and flip over tables, I don’t have that right to go into someone else’s house and do the same. The Temple belonged to Jesus. It was there to bring worship to himself. 

So, yes, we can be angry. Anger is an indicative emotion that helps us gauge what is important in our hearts. To be angry at sin and angry at exploitation and angry at racism is good and right. But what follows after anger? When we allow anger to mix with bitterness and hate, we act on it by stepping into a place only God should be standing, namely, the place of vengeance: “Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord’” (Romans 12:19).  But anger can be mixed with love. When love is underneath the anger, it can light a fire in us that brings out passion and willingness to sacrifice all to see things made right. This was the King’s Path. Was he angry at sin—our sin? Yes. But the way he responded to our sin and the way he disrupted the evil systems of oppression was by love.  

The King’s Path means we don’t take things into our own hands. This does not mean we’re passive, but we don’t trade evil with evil. We respond to evil with love: “Blessed are those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them” (Romans 12:14). We do not curse those who hate us. We bless them. The strength of our King is shown not in that he wiped out the Roman guards and Herod and Pontius Pilate. It was not shown in giving into the crowds as they demanded him to prove he was God by coming down off the cross. No, the strength of our King is found in the fact that though falsely accused and unjustly treated, “…He did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead he entrusted himself to him who judges justly” (1 Peter 2:23). He sought to bless those who sought his death.

For George Floyd

These words are the hardest to write. I could not—dare not—write them unless the eyes of my soul beheld the beauty of our King. If I were in the shoes of George Floyd…that’s hard for me to imagine as a white man. So, as I consider his shoes, I have in mind someone in authority abusing me and bringing me to the brink of death. Unfortunately, racism is not the only reason for murder. In the Bible, we see murders because of envy—see Cain and Abel, we see murder in an attempt to conceal the truth—see David and Uriah, we see murder to usurp power—see the books of 1st and 2nd Kings. Humanity is willing to go to extreme lengths for a number of reasons to show itself superior to another. So, as I consider my final moments of life under the heel of someone abusing their authority, would I be whispering in my heart words of hate or would God’s Spirit flood my heart with love in such a way I would pray, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34). 

 The religious and political leaders abused their authority towards Jesus. But while on the cross, as Jesus had only a few gasps of air left, he used one of them to ask his Father to grant them repentance. What’s amazing is the Father answered it!  We see one of the centurions conclude when Jesus died “This man truly was the Son of God” (Matthew 27:54). 

 Jesus knew his battle was not with men. He saw beyond their cruelty to a greater power at work. He understood the sins of men come from an enslaved heart. The actions of men are easy to account for when you know Satan and his demons control their hearts: “For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.” (Ephesians 6:12). The King’s Path involves seeing beyond the surface, to enslaved souls in the hands of Satan, and embracing forgiveness to those who have wronged us. 

 For Derek Chauvin

 Here, it is impossible to imagine our King’s perspective from the shoes of the police officer, Derek Chauvin. Our King never used his position to hurt, harm, or kill. He is a King who forfeited his divine privileges, became man, lived as a servant, and remained obedient to the point of death while he was treated as a criminal (Philippians 2:1-11). So, I cannot put Jesus in the cop’s shoes. Instead, I put myself in his shoes for I too am a killer. My sins have never killed a man. I have done something far worse. My sins killed the Creator of the Universe. My sins were the reason why my King hung as he did. My sins led to the King’s brutal torture, and ultimately, his death. The greatest injustice in the universe is that the infinitely glorious and holy King of Kings suffered at the hands of sinful men, like myself. 

 I cry out justice at the injustice in the world around me, but I cry out for justice…humbly. Because I know if I truly cried out for justice—apart from Jesus’ sacrificial love—justice for me means eternity in hell. That is what I deserve. Without Jesus, I stand forever condemned and guilty before God. I have been shown mercy—unfathomable mercy. As I reflect on this, my cry for justice with a fist turns into a cry for justice with tears. 

 I seek justice. I fight for my brothers and sisters in love. I want to see evil dealt with. But I do this not as man “above the rest” but as a man who knows he used to live in darkness and now is only free because of the grace of God. 

 King’s Hill, this is a crucial moment for us. Will we travel down the King’s Path? Will we show others this path? I plead with you that you would look to the Bible like never before and see the beauty of this King we follow and let him shape our attitudes, feelings, actions, and words. I pray as a church that we would be salt and light. 

 His kingdom come. His will be done. In my heart. In Boston. In the US. As in heaven.