August 18, 2019
Luke 12:49-56
A while back I told you all about a book I was reading titled The Sun Does Shine. It is the true story of Anthony Ray Hinton, a black man from Alabama who spent more than thirty years on death row for a crime he didn’t commit. In my sharing about that book I recall sharing about the unlikely friendship between Ray Hinton and Henry Hays, and I hope you don’t mind if I share some of that story again today.
Henry Hayes was a white man who grew up following in his family’s tradition of white supremacy. I believe his father was a leader of the Klu Klux Klan in the state of Alabama and at one point, some might have described Henry as following in his father’s footsteps. The intensity of hate brewing inside of Henry kept growing and growing until it reached a point where he decided to lynch a young teenage black boy, which is the reason Henry ended up on Alabama’s death row.
It was on death row that the most unlikely of friendships began. A friendship, a best friendship, between a black man and a white man. This friendship began because Henry actually couldn’t see the person he was talking with in the neighboring cell. Who knows if the friendship would have been possible if Henry could have seen that the person he would later call his best friend on death row was Ray Hinton, a black man? A funny thing happens though when barriers are erased, hate begins to disappear, and love begins to grow. That is exactly what happened with Ray Hinton and Henry Hays.
I wish I could tell you that this newfound friendship between Ray and Henry helped open other people’s eyes, but that is not the case. In fact, this friendship caused Henry to lose his own family. Where Henry’s eyes had been opened and love had taken over the direction of his life, his Father, his mother, his community’s stayed closed, even to the point of total abandonment of Henry. Opening himself up to love his neighbor caused division and pitted father against son and son against father. Yet, for Henry there was no denying the power of this love for it had taken over his very soul and Henry Hays was transformed.
In the book, Ray Hinton writes, “We’re all slowly dying from our own fear. Our minds killing us quicker than the state of Alabama ever could. I knew if the mind could open the heart would follow. It had happened to Henry. He’d been taught to hate us and fear us so much that he had thought it was in his rights to go and find a teenage boy beat and stabbed and lynch him just because of the color of his skin. I had no anger toward Henry. He had been taught to fear blacks. He had been trained to hate. Death row had been good to Henry. Death Row had saved his soul. Death Row taught him that his hate was wrong. He died knowing that.
On the night of an execution they ask you two things, what you want for your last meal and did you have anything you want to say. And I was told that Henry said, “All my life. My father, my mother, my community taught me to hate. The very people that they taught me to hate are the very people who taught me to love. And tonight, as I leave this world, I leave this world knowing what love feels like.”
**********************************
That story came back to me last Wednesday as Mark and Becky and I discussed today’s scripture during our weekly meeting. Both Becky and Mark shared how difficult it was to hear words like these coming from the mouth of Jesus, primarily because they sound so harsh. When we read today’s scripture, and others like it, our minds start feverishly working to explain away the harsh tones. Since none of us were there when Jesus spoke these words we might say, surely someone just misheard him. Or, if they didn’t mishear, then maybe whoever was transcribing what he was saying that day wrote down the wrong thing. We do this because we have such a hard time reconciling words like these with the man we know as the Prince of Peace. And if we limit ourselves to only these words, if we try only to understand them inside a vacuum, then they are harsh. But what if, as we sit with these lessons on family values, we take a broader view, one that incorporates historical context. One that embraces that Jesus was speaking to a specific group of people at a specific time in history who were living in such a way that the only way ultimate peace could be achieved was to disrupt the status quo.
What if we included all of that when listening to today’s scripture? Might we begin to hear more clearly the voice of ultimate Peace tirelessly working to take the people there while knowing better than anyone that as long as people are taught to oppress others… as long as people are taught that they are better than others… as long as people are taught to hate, disruption is the only way to bring about peace.
And if an oppressive, territorial, tribal worldview is being taught to the next generation then isn’t it fair to turn the focus of the disruption efforts toward the teachers, who more times than we care to admit are the parents. You see, the family is where children learn values. One of my own go to sayings is that we are all shaped and formed by the context in which we are raised. This is something I believe wholeheartedly. The power and influence parents have in the lives of their children is remarkable really.
I was lucky enough to be raised in a loving home where my parents, through their words and actions, taught me about loving all my neighbors. The reality though, is that some people never learn those things at home, and maybe those people more easily understand what Jesus is saying. Maybe they don’t hear his words with the same level of harshness as others because they know all too well that in certain situations the only way to move toward peace is through disruption. You see, for those of us who were never taught to hate, disruption feels harmful, but for those who were and have later had their eyes opened by true love, disruption is necessary.
*************************
Transformation isn’t always neat and pretty. In fact, I’m not sure it ever is. That transformation disrupts the status quo and that disruption can be difficult to navigate. Especially when the disruption is within the family unit. The thing is, when the lessons being taught inside the family unit are lessons of division, lessons of tribalism and lessons of hate, disruption will occur because once you have been transformed by love, those lessons of hate lose their power over you. And as bad as you want everyone to be transformed by love in the same way and at the same time as you, the reality is their transformation will come in its own time.
The thing is when the systems we are living in are systems of injustice and oppression, we need voices like Jesus, whose spoke of disruption, but not for disruption’s sake. He spoke of disruption of the oppressive status quo, and of teaching such oppression and hate to the next generation because Jesus was teaching his followers about bringing the Peace of God to all. Systems of injustice and oppression always need those kinds of voices of disruption. Like back then, Jesus needs the voices of his followers to be heard too. That is the fire he wishes was already kindled. A fire that comes when love and justice are spoken to hate and injustice. There is often a price to pay when seeking to bring about the peace and love of God, but I believe the price is worth it and I don’t have to look any further than to the story of Henry Hays who on his last day declared “the very people I was taught to hate taught me to love and tonight, as I leave this world, I leave this world knowing what love feels like.” May we all be so lucky to know what love feels like.
[PRAYER]
Amen!
Luke 12:49-56
A while back I told you all about a book I was reading titled The Sun Does Shine. It is the true story of Anthony Ray Hinton, a black man from Alabama who spent more than thirty years on death row for a crime he didn’t commit. In my sharing about that book I recall sharing about the unlikely friendship between Ray Hinton and Henry Hays, and I hope you don’t mind if I share some of that story again today.
Henry Hayes was a white man who grew up following in his family’s tradition of white supremacy. I believe his father was a leader of the Klu Klux Klan in the state of Alabama and at one point, some might have described Henry as following in his father’s footsteps. The intensity of hate brewing inside of Henry kept growing and growing until it reached a point where he decided to lynch a young teenage black boy, which is the reason Henry ended up on Alabama’s death row.
It was on death row that the most unlikely of friendships began. A friendship, a best friendship, between a black man and a white man. This friendship began because Henry actually couldn’t see the person he was talking with in the neighboring cell. Who knows if the friendship would have been possible if Henry could have seen that the person he would later call his best friend on death row was Ray Hinton, a black man? A funny thing happens though when barriers are erased, hate begins to disappear, and love begins to grow. That is exactly what happened with Ray Hinton and Henry Hays.
I wish I could tell you that this newfound friendship between Ray and Henry helped open other people’s eyes, but that is not the case. In fact, this friendship caused Henry to lose his own family. Where Henry’s eyes had been opened and love had taken over the direction of his life, his Father, his mother, his community’s stayed closed, even to the point of total abandonment of Henry. Opening himself up to love his neighbor caused division and pitted father against son and son against father. Yet, for Henry there was no denying the power of this love for it had taken over his very soul and Henry Hays was transformed.
In the book, Ray Hinton writes, “We’re all slowly dying from our own fear. Our minds killing us quicker than the state of Alabama ever could. I knew if the mind could open the heart would follow. It had happened to Henry. He’d been taught to hate us and fear us so much that he had thought it was in his rights to go and find a teenage boy beat and stabbed and lynch him just because of the color of his skin. I had no anger toward Henry. He had been taught to fear blacks. He had been trained to hate. Death row had been good to Henry. Death Row had saved his soul. Death Row taught him that his hate was wrong. He died knowing that.
On the night of an execution they ask you two things, what you want for your last meal and did you have anything you want to say. And I was told that Henry said, “All my life. My father, my mother, my community taught me to hate. The very people that they taught me to hate are the very people who taught me to love. And tonight, as I leave this world, I leave this world knowing what love feels like.”
**********************************
That story came back to me last Wednesday as Mark and Becky and I discussed today’s scripture during our weekly meeting. Both Becky and Mark shared how difficult it was to hear words like these coming from the mouth of Jesus, primarily because they sound so harsh. When we read today’s scripture, and others like it, our minds start feverishly working to explain away the harsh tones. Since none of us were there when Jesus spoke these words we might say, surely someone just misheard him. Or, if they didn’t mishear, then maybe whoever was transcribing what he was saying that day wrote down the wrong thing. We do this because we have such a hard time reconciling words like these with the man we know as the Prince of Peace. And if we limit ourselves to only these words, if we try only to understand them inside a vacuum, then they are harsh. But what if, as we sit with these lessons on family values, we take a broader view, one that incorporates historical context. One that embraces that Jesus was speaking to a specific group of people at a specific time in history who were living in such a way that the only way ultimate peace could be achieved was to disrupt the status quo.
What if we included all of that when listening to today’s scripture? Might we begin to hear more clearly the voice of ultimate Peace tirelessly working to take the people there while knowing better than anyone that as long as people are taught to oppress others… as long as people are taught that they are better than others… as long as people are taught to hate, disruption is the only way to bring about peace.
And if an oppressive, territorial, tribal worldview is being taught to the next generation then isn’t it fair to turn the focus of the disruption efforts toward the teachers, who more times than we care to admit are the parents. You see, the family is where children learn values. One of my own go to sayings is that we are all shaped and formed by the context in which we are raised. This is something I believe wholeheartedly. The power and influence parents have in the lives of their children is remarkable really.
I was lucky enough to be raised in a loving home where my parents, through their words and actions, taught me about loving all my neighbors. The reality though, is that some people never learn those things at home, and maybe those people more easily understand what Jesus is saying. Maybe they don’t hear his words with the same level of harshness as others because they know all too well that in certain situations the only way to move toward peace is through disruption. You see, for those of us who were never taught to hate, disruption feels harmful, but for those who were and have later had their eyes opened by true love, disruption is necessary.
*************************
Transformation isn’t always neat and pretty. In fact, I’m not sure it ever is. That transformation disrupts the status quo and that disruption can be difficult to navigate. Especially when the disruption is within the family unit. The thing is, when the lessons being taught inside the family unit are lessons of division, lessons of tribalism and lessons of hate, disruption will occur because once you have been transformed by love, those lessons of hate lose their power over you. And as bad as you want everyone to be transformed by love in the same way and at the same time as you, the reality is their transformation will come in its own time.
The thing is when the systems we are living in are systems of injustice and oppression, we need voices like Jesus, whose spoke of disruption, but not for disruption’s sake. He spoke of disruption of the oppressive status quo, and of teaching such oppression and hate to the next generation because Jesus was teaching his followers about bringing the Peace of God to all. Systems of injustice and oppression always need those kinds of voices of disruption. Like back then, Jesus needs the voices of his followers to be heard too. That is the fire he wishes was already kindled. A fire that comes when love and justice are spoken to hate and injustice. There is often a price to pay when seeking to bring about the peace and love of God, but I believe the price is worth it and I don’t have to look any further than to the story of Henry Hays who on his last day declared “the very people I was taught to hate taught me to love and tonight, as I leave this world, I leave this world knowing what love feels like.” May we all be so lucky to know what love feels like.
[PRAYER]
Amen!
