Patrolling for Prostitutes

Have you ever been shocked at your own capacity to hate? To me, there's nothing more humbling than coming face to face with my personal monster of maliciousness, especially when he springs forth unannounced. I had such an encounter just this afternoon. Driving through the east side neighborhood which we hope will become the home of the Bridge Ministry Center, I was approached by two young black males. Before I had time to think, I had two new, uninvited passengers in my pick-up. I was instructed to peruse the block in search of "chicken heads" (don't ask). After mentioning that I was a pastor, my two companions thought better of my abilities to locate prostitutes, and I was alone once again. Yet what remained was a lingering skittishness regarding people of color.

As tempting as it is to chalk this skittishness up to common sense, I suspect it has a lot to do with fear's dominion over my fallen nature. Common sense is not driving down Brewer Street with my doors unlocked. Locking out an entire race just to be on the safe side is another matter entirely. To fear is to hate, therefore you cannot love that which you fear. That's why, for Christians, the fear of man is not an option. But the fear of man is not the only emotion that I must guard against in these situations. In many ways, the only thing worse than fearing/hating a people group, is feeling guilty about fearing/hating a people group. Guilt-induced pity is nothing more than a sugar-coated poison that only serves to secure the chains of those that we feel bad about oppressing. In my relationships with those of a different persuasion, I need less fear, and therefore less hate, and therefore less reason to feel guilty. Only through the annihilation of these base emotions can love rule my actions. I could also use power locks, but that's beside the point.