Warning: The first few lines of this piece are lyrics from a song. The song is called "King Park" by La Dispute. For the rest of the lyrics, just google it. I am using these lines from the song as a spring board into this piece. I have been listening to this band for a while this week, and have had many conversations about a lot of things. Thus, I want to take some time on this Friday evening to process them with you. It may be short, but it may be long. Who knows? You have been warned, so no freaking out!
I thought to slip through the door, I could've entered the room,
I felt the burden of murder, it shook the earth to the core.
Felt like the world was collapsing. Then we heard him speak,
"Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself?
Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself?
Can I ever be forgiven 'cause I killed that kid?
It was an accident I swear it wasn't meant for him!
And if I turn it on me, if I even it out, can I still get in or will they send me to hell?
Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself?"
I left the hotel behind, don't want to know how it ends.
(Excerpt from "King Park" by La Dispute)
This is the last part of the song, the very last haunting words that sung before it ends.
For those of you who are not going to read the rest of the lyrics, nor listen to the song, let me paint you a picture of what has happened up until this point:
- There is a drive by shooting, a young person shoots another one. The one who gets shot was not the intended target, but dies anyway.
- The singer takes the perspective of a neighbor who wants to know what happened, so he becomes a ghost (of sorts) to travel back in time to get up close and personal during the shooting.
- He wants to see the mom, the kid, the body, the blood, etc.
- He wants to see the mom, the kid, the body, the blood, etc.
- Then, there is the funeral where the mom has to bury her son.
- Word then spreads of where the shooter is residing, holed up in a hotel; the cops surround the place, and the singer is there too.
- The shooter's uncle is there pleading with him to come out, speaking of forgiveness, and then we get to the final scene, which is provided above.
In this scene we don't see anything, but hear the plea of the shooter. However, there is no resolution, what happened to the shooter? What happened to the uncle? What happened to the mom of the kid who was buried? What happened to the neighborhood? What happened to the rest of the gang? What happened to the person who was supposed to have been shot? All of these questions, and more are left unanswered as the storyteller fades back into his life. He gets up close and personal for a moment, and then leaves. Although, there is a line in the song that says something to the effect of I want to write it all down so I never forget… but still. No real resolution. No answers. No closure. Nothing.
This is usually what happens in the media: we get up close and personal with a story (usually from a single perspective) and then we are left wondering, because they only show a part of the story. There is no "rest of the story" as Paul Harvey once provided us. We are left to assume the worst, and hope for the best—maybe it wasn't so bad; maybe it got better; maybe they survived; maybe they won; maybe they didn't die. No, they died, we just didn't hear about it. No, they didn't survive, it was that bad, the never win, and it never gets better. That's the way of the world, that's the way of life… or so we are led to believe. However, the real question is, what are we doing about it? We sit back, relax, and watch the news tell us exactly what they want us to believe. We are trained to overlook disparities in life; we are coerced to see things from a single perspective, listening to a single story; we are offered only the most entertaining and titillating pieces of news to tie us over until the next big thing scrolls across our monitors. It's sad.
What we don't get to see is the effect the news has on the other. What about the families of the person who is sentenced to life in prison for killing somebody? What about the family of the person who was killed? What about the neighborhood where it took place, how are they dealing with it? Who are we to assume anything about the people, places or events that happened without having been there? Who are we to assume that the murderer is a heartless being who killed the kid in cold blood? You aren't them, you don't know.
"Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself? Can I ever be forgiven 'cause I killed that kid?"
There is this concept that runs rampant in a lot of the Christian circles that I used to run in, and it's something they like to call "Grace." Grace is the concept that allows for the pardon of past discretions for the hope of a better forever. It is the ability to look past indiscretions to see the person as a person. A lot of times this concept gets played out superficially, in that people use it as an excuse to do shitty things to other people. However, when paired with the commandment of Jesus to Love thy neighbor, it takes on a whole new power. To love your neighbor and provide them with grace, means that you look past their indiscretions, because God does. This does not mean you have to like them; this does not mean you are not allowed to have an emotional reaction to their presence; but you have to give them grace with love. God forgives, god provides grace, god loves indefinitely, and we are called to do the same.
As Christians, we do a lot of talking about things, but never seem to get beyond that. There is a lot of talk about being like Jesus, living a life like Jesus, following Jesus as a role model, taking up a daily cross, loving people. When does it stop being lip service and start becoming an action plan? When do we stop fighting about whether or not homosexuals should be able to get married based on laws written over 2000 years ago, and start loving them because they are a part of creation? When we do stop telling people how to live their lives and what to do with their bodies based orally transmitted stories that are over 2000 years old? When do we stop claiming that we are pro-life, but rejoice at somebody being sentenced to death?
Where is the love?
Where is the grace?
Where is the "Christ-like" life that is talked about all the time?
I'm no different, except I don't talk about things.
I keep my mouth shut instead of speak out against the things I see wrong in the world.
I stand by and watch my brothers and sisters struggle day in, and day out, because I'm a coward.
I told my boss/friend the other day that I care a lot about a lot of things, but I can't stand stupid so I don't talk about them.
Instead of having to deal with the ignorance of the masses, I stay silent and join the masses. I stand silently in the back shaking my head and constructing rants to be posted on the internet (must like this one). This is what I do instead of taking action, instead of having the hard conversations, asking the hard questions, pushing for change in my community… I'm a coward.
I would rather be a part of the silent majority than rightfully prosecuted for sticking up for those I know need my help.
I would rather be seen as an innocent bystander, than one who is willing to fight for what is right at any cost.
I would rather be the shadow writing the details of the murder down so as to not forget, then be the uncle pleading outside of the hotel room… preaching about forgiveness.
I get so angry when I read articles about social justice issues that never go far enough. We always highlight the problem, but never present the solutions that we're trying. Angry because I'm not doing anything either. I want to be told what to do. I want to join somebody else's cause, because it's less work. I want to fight behind somebody else, because that way if it gets too hairy I can just duck out. I'm unwilling to commit to the fight if I know I could get hurt… or worse.
I want to make a difference in this world; I want to enact change; I want to see things stopped; I want people to be fully informed; I want to see how the story ends, because it's always a happy ending in the movies.
I see the beginning of the story. I see the middle of the story. I close my eyes before the end, because I'm afraid that I'll have missed my chance to act.
Is it my turn yet?
Can I say something?
Are you listening?
It doesn't matter what the issue. There is always something that can be done. Now is the time to take a stand, out of love and with grace, for the changes that we want to be in the world.
If only…
"Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself?"
"It was an accident I swear it wasn't meant for him!"
"And if I turn it on me, if I even it out, can I still get in or will they send me to hell?"
Will god let me in if I kill myself? Will god see what I've done in this life and tell me I left things undone, unsaid, unaccomplished? We operate out of fear of hell. We operate out of fear of death. We freeze ourselves in place so that we don't make the wrong move. Let's warm up. Let's move around. Let's make some differences in the lives of people who live through hell, here and now.
I'm a coward; afraid to take a public stand against/for anything.
Will you help me?
Will you stand outside my door and bed me to forgive.
Will you shadow me to document my progress?
Will you join me in the battle for change?
I can start by myself, but without the help of others a movement quickly dies. Let us start a movement that is unstoppable. Let us give grace, spread love, and change the world… one person at a time!
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