Two Miles to Freedom                      February 4, 2018                      Andy Bachmann

“And if someone forces you to go with them one mile, go with them two.”

If you’ve ever sat next to me at a meeting or in church; really any place where there are occasional times of quiet, chances are good you’ve heard my stomach grumble. Many a moderator or board member has had to suppress a giggle as my internal mechanisms commenced to gurgling. My co-workers knowingly nod now. Unfortunately there is nothing I can do. I try breathing different ways or shifting how I’m sitting; but no. I’ve even had it checked out to be sure there’s nothing terribly wrong with me; and there isn’t; I’m all good. But still…something inside of me demands to be heard, whether I want it to be or not.

We went to see The Royale with Bernice Powell-Jackson, and sure enough, my stomach inadvertently played the sixth player in the cast. If you haven’t seen it, I recommend doing so. It is a fictitious account of Jay Johnson, but it is based on the story of Jack Johnson, the first African-American heavyweight boxing champion of the world. Set against the backdrop of the Jim Crow era America it tells the tale of one man and his allies attempting to shatter stereotypes and the social constraints of the time, while pursuing the heavyweight title. The play personalizes the tragedy and terror of our racist American history. The Royale is one of those special events that offers insight into a lived experience that might be very different from our own but is told in such a way that we can’t help but be challenged and changed for witnessing it; and that is important. It is important to push the boundaries of our experiences. And good storytelling does just that; it invites us to new insight and revelation. REALLY good storytelling has the ability to shift the cornerstones on the foundation of how we’ve come to live in the world.

The Royale comes close to doing just that; it provides just enough outrage and empathy to make any audience hungry for a more just society and a more beloved community. But as my stomach growled during the show, and I tried my best to keep it quiet, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was uniquely demonstrative of my own other deeper seeded hungers that I might be trying to stifle.

I’m afraid my hunger for justice often sounds more like a belly grumble than an ferocious growling roar for social and societal change. And some days I know that I wear blinders when confronted with the struggles that my sisters and brothers around me must go through.

I was standing in the locker room at the gym, and one elderly white fellow was loudly chiding his friend, another elderly white fellow. He was talking loud enough for the whole locker room to hear him. He said to his pal, “What are you doing over here; this is the VIP area– by invitation only.” It was a stupid comment, one that I typically wouldn’t think twice about; or at least wouldn’t have had I not been standing next to a young African American fellow who heard the same thing. He didn’t bat an eye or even change his expression in the slightest; but I had to wonder what a dumb comment like that sounds like to a young man like this.
Now, it’s possible I’m over-reacting. There were likely no intentional racial undertones to his comment, right? He probably didn’t even see the young man standing right there, in front of his face, less than 10 feet away. And I’m sure the vehicle for his teasing; this silly idea that there was something in the other man’s life or experience that made him ineligible for this corner of the locker room had nothing to do with a racist, segregated past. And I’m sure if asked about the comment and its potentially racist undertones, he’d deny having even a single racist bone in his body. And we can’t be expected to police or to judge every little thing we or others say to any other person can we? Or can we? Should we?

It is a fact of human life that once we’ve been affected by the stories of others, the more attuned we are to their reality. We don’t make cancer jokes with friends facing a terminal diagnosis. We don’t offer a drink to a friend battling alcoholism. We don’t use derogatory descriptors with our friends once we’ve befriended someone with intellectual disabilities.

Ta-nahesi Coates book, “Between the World and Me” has been one of the most impactful books I’ve ever read. It opened my eyes to what it is like living as a black man in modern day America. It is informative on a foundational level, this book disguised as a letter written to his adolescent son, informing him of the dangers and age-old racism that still plagues our country, no matter how much others might try to have us believe differently. Hearing his story moved me in ways and opened my eyes to seeing the world in ways that I had never really tried to consider in the past. And it changed me.

At a recent meeting with our Sanctuary Task Force, we met with members of an organization that is working in the immigrant community right here in Gainesville to enable families to tell the stories of their lives in America in ways that justify their existence here. I couldn’t imagine how that must have felt. These are our neighbors, some of whom have lived their whole lives here; who have gone to school with us and go to the same doctors and grocery stores as us, who were brought to this country as young children. They know no other existence. They pay taxes and hold jobs, and send their children to school with my children; yet they have to take extreme precautions that will enable their neighbors to become guardians for their children– in case they don’t make it home from work one day. They have collected their tax records and pay slips to prove that they’ve been just as upstanding citizens as you and me. Yet they are being forced to question their identity as our neighbors; and forced to question whether this community and country in which they have lived for most of their lives is really theirs to claim at all.

After hearing the story of a woman whose parents brought her from El Salvador as a young child, but as a result has never had an opportunity to become a legal us resident, share how she and her neighbors have prepared themselves and their children should anything ever happen to them was heartbreaking; but she shared her story with us with a smile and a giggle; because she was not going to let the fear of the unknown overwhelm her life and livelihood. She shared it because this is a fact of her daily reality. To her it was just how life is these days. It was moving. It was inspiring. And it was infuriating; that she and her children are forced to even consider such things.

Once our ears have been opened and our eyes have seen the bigotry and animosity that our sisters and brothers live with, one can’t help but be moved. I hope. And I hope I have the capacity within me to remain changed and to ally myself with those who are targeted by those who fear what they do not know; whose stories others are trying to paint in a fearful light, who are more concerned with the color of a persons’ skin than they are with the content of their character. That’s racism. Don’t be fooled.

I hope that I have within me the capacity to work to bring about change in the form of a community that is more beloved, for all people. And I hope that you do, too.
What I seek is freedom. A frightening notion; because freedom isn’t free (at least, not the freedom that I’m talking about). It requires diligent, hard work. I want freedom from my biases and my bigotry.
Freedom from a belief system that teaches that my experience is more important than yours.
Freedom from a world where people are empowered to subjugate others for any reason they see fit; because they’ve become hypnotized by the notion that anyone who looks or acts or believes or loves differently than they do is somehow a threat.

Freedom from the sins, of greed, and gluttony, haughty pride and from hatred. Freedom from fear.
Freedom from a belief that I alone can change the world, and that I don’t need God.

My Buddhist friend Mark told me that Thich Nhat Hahn said, “Freedom is the extinction of notions.” Can you imagine? Can you imagine what a beautiful world this would be if we could make the notions we carry about ourselves or others were made extinct?
To do so requires a letting go of expectation and an investment in faith; in one another and in an ever active and changing God. It means we have to let go of our notions and to see each other as we truly are; beloved ones, children of God, fellow pilgrims on the road to freedom.
Jesus said,
“If someone forces you to go with them one mile, go with them two.”

Have you ever walked a mile with someone? The average person walks about three miles an hour. Jesus is telling us to spend 40 minutes walking with our oppressors or oppresses, and we will have a deeper understanding of the kingdom of God.

Atticus Finch said, “If you can learn a simple trick, Scout, you’ll get along a lot better with all kinds of folks. You never really understand a person until you consider things from their point of view; until you climb inside of their skin and walk around in it.”

Walking that second mile could be all that it takes to know that there is far more that unites us in this world than there is that separates us, AND, if we seek to be allies to those marginalized or minoritized, we have a responsibility to get to that place of understanding, and to work to greater equity across ALL the human spectrum.

I need to understand deeply that I TOO have a stake in creating a better world and in the change we seek to bring. I need to own that, and NOT fall into a savior mindset where I somehow believe that I am here to save you;. Quite the opposite is true, frankly. I’m here to save ME; because I KNOW that my life will be better, richer, healthier and happier when we live together in a more beloved and just world. I want to be free from a world steeped in bias and fear and ignorance and greed. Freedom for all people to live in a world where we are loved and embraced for who we are; with no restrictions applied.

I hope that we can all willingly go that second mile when our time comes to cross the borders of our own comfort zones, and truly embrace a world of kingdom come, on earth as it is in heaven; if for no other reasons than to simply save ourselves from the captivity of our own biases and notions, and to find the freedom that a beloved community will offer.
Just a few verses earlier in Matthew’s gospel, Jesus says, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness and for justice; for they shall be filled.” So I guess, the next time you hear my stomach grumbling, lean over to me and ask me,” Andy, what are you hungry for?” Then let’s go grab a bite to eat and talk about all the lovely ways we want to change the world.

Amen.