Often, our compassion meters are put on display when it comes to how we respond to those who seem least like us. The way of Jesus is better.
Compassion is an odd thing. When we think we don’t have enough of it, it can emerge from seemingly nowhere. When we are certain we are filled with it, we find we respond in ways we ought not. And often, our compassion meters are put on display when it comes to how we respond to those who seem least like us.
We are seeing a lot of scorn and anger targeted
at protestors wanting to open the economy— often MAGA-hat wearing pro-Trump
supporters. “They must just be ignorant hicks,” some say. “They are going to
get sick—and get us sick.” “What a bunch of idiots.”
It’s important, however, that before we judge,
we consider. That before we condemn, we pray. All of those who act in ways we
disagree with are made in God’s image. We may believe our thoughts and opinions
are the correct ones, but we must never forget that there are two sides of each
story and many lenses through which to see the world.
There are a lot of frightened people out there,
many of whom were already having financial strains. Now, too many of these people
are unemployed or underemployed because of the impact of COVID-19.
So, if you are sitting at home, working from
home because your job allows it, have a little compassion for people who are
watching their future dissolve, are fearful for their children’s future, and
who just want to work.
Compassion or contempt
Hard truth, friends: we have got to listen a bit
more to one another right now.
A lot of people are afraid and frustrated. And,
there are some groups who are being disproportionately affected. Among them,
economically, are working-class white people.
Jenn Thomas, a single mother with two children, is worried about
the economic impact of government restrictions on businesses. She observed in an interview, “We can’t just
continue to keep closing things up and disrupting people’s lives where
[COVID-19] is not affecting people like myself physically.”
The story explained that Thomas moved to
California to open a hair salon last September. Her business was doing well
until the mandated business closures came in response to the pandemic. “I
don’t want to lose my house,” she said. “My livelihood is in dire
straits. When is this going to end?” She planned to participate in a
protest at the state capital calling for state officials to reopen businesses.
Can you have compassion for her? Does that
compassion not apply if she is wearing a red hat?
Like Thomas, many Americans who are currently
jobless fear the long-term implications of the closures. They wonder if the
restrictions are necessary in areas where the virus doesn’t seem as widespread.
They are afraid. The pictures of them, sometimes
protesting with political signs, makes them easy to caricature.
But don’t.
We need to feel a sense of compassion, but
instead, far too many of us feel contempt.
We explore the issue of contempt at length in Christians in the Age of Outrage—
it is one of the great challenges of our day. Far too many people rush to
contempt when they might consider compassion.
People are afraid.
I’m not endorsing everything that everyone says.
And, I get some politicians are taking advantage of the situation. But, I can’t
get past the fact that there a lot of people who are afraid— for their families
and their future.
I’m hurting with them.
African Americans
But, of course, working class whites are not the
only ones experiencing disruption. Actually, African Americans are dying at a
much higher rate.
They are experiencing both economic and
disproportionate health challenges.
Jay Banks is a New Orleans City councilman. He is also chairman of
one of the many Mardi Gras entities there—one which has seen six of its group
die of the disease in recent days. He worries about the disproportionate number
in the African American community who are dying from the disease. “You’ve
got to get people to understand just how serious and devastating this thing
[COVID-19] is,” he says.
The evidence is clear that African Americans are
disproportionately affected by this virus. I recently talked to Chicago African American pastor
Charlie Dates, who had two members of his church lose their lives to COVID-19.
The Church of God in Christ, the nation’s oldest and largest African American
Pentecostal denomination, reports that well over a dozen bishops and
pastors have died.
The statistics are cause for concern: in Cook
County, which includes Chicago, black residents make up 23 percent of the
population, yet account for 58 percent of COVID-19 deaths. In Milwaukee, black
residents represent 26 percent of the population, but accounted for almost half
of the cases and 81 percent of its deaths.
I can’t get past the fact that there a lot of
people who are afraid— for their health, for their communities, and for their
families and their future.
I’m hurting with them.
Deaths, unemployment, and enough compassion for everyone
So, the statistics on unemployment are dire. In February,
unemployment rates were at a multi-decade low of 3.5 percent. The U.S. was
cruising along well in terms of jobs. But now, estimates are that unemployment will hit
16 percent by July, the highest since the Great Depression.
Many Americans were already vulnerable economically before the
pandemic hit. The working poor, many who live in both rural and urban areas,
live just above the poverty line and have no savings or recourse in times of
sudden joblessness. “If they don’t show up for work, they don’t get paid.
To get to their jobs, they have to take mass transit, putting themselves in
closer contact with more people and, therefore, at greater risk of
infection,” one article noted.
And, still, people are dying. If we open up the
economy too soon, more will die.
And vulnerable people are losing everything.
We can care about both
I’m of the opinion that we need to keep our
businesses and non-essential services closed as long as we need to keep them
closed as long as we are saving lives, and that we must slowly reopen in such a
way that we do not have a rush of new cases. Doctors tell us we aren’t ready to
reopen; business owners are saying we should begin doing so responsibly. We can
have our opinions, but during the crisis we must lean on experts to make
well-informed, well-considered decisions.
And we continue to be the church. And we cannot
do as the church is be blind or insensitive to people who are hurting due to
pride, prejudice, or misinformation. We cannot treat urban African Americans
who are seeing family and friends die as invisible. Our priority is to all.
Always. Neither can we judge Trump supporters based on what we do not know of
their lives.
The world does not need more contempt. It needs
more compassionate Christians.
Now is the time to move past our narrow
thinking, worldview, and experience, and to step into the shoes of the other,
for the sake of the other. We need to listen to all who struggle in this
pandemic. And the list of those who struggle is long: Trump supporters who have
lost their jobs, urban minorities experiencing injustice, those who suffer from
mental illness or abuse, healthcare workers unable to be with their families,
children in broken homes, single parents, the homeless, the hungry, the
hopeless, the elderly.
Now and in the coming days and months our first priority is not to
ourselves or our churches. Our first priority
is for those suffering and on the margins.
May we never forget it. Jesus didn’t. And his
call is still on our lives to leave all and follow him in caring for others.
All others.
So, let’s pass on the contempt and follow the
way of Jesus.
Ed Stetzer is
executive director of the Billy Graham Center,
serves as a dean at Wheaton College, and publishes church leadership resources
through Mission Group. The Exchange
Team contributed to this article.
