Grace Available

I woke up this morning and I must say that the subconscious is an interesting place to visit. In the dream I just had I was heading downtown when there was a lot of excitement going on. People were upset and there was a protest or demonstration of some sort that was put together in a large parking lot with a stage and various kinds of seating. The event appeared to be in support of the black community even though those were some of the people who seemed to be attacking and threatening those were coming to support the event, in my dream I was even shot at by multiple people as I made my way to the square where it was happening. As I arrived I saw people handing out 10 foot long 1x3 sticks that were tapered from about 3 inches wide on one end to 1 inch on the other, painted with black and purple stripes, and roughly broken in half so each half was about 5-6 feet long and had jagged edges. I was invited to carry these symbols around, but I wasn't sure why.

The lot where this was all happening was laid out with a stage and speakers on the west side of the lot with a section of chairs 5-6 rows deep directly in front of the stage to the east that was empty and another section of chairs of similar size behind the first section that a few people were actually sitting in. About 50 yards to the south there was section filled with unruly people and it was hard to tell if they were in support of or opposed to what was going on, but it was standing room only and if you got at all close to it people would be yelling at you to get your attention and question why you were there. Finally, further to the east behind the two sections of chairs facing the stage there were some stands that were also packed with supporters; these supporters wanted to provide support, but it was difficult given the number of people that tried to chase anyone away that wanted to help. These people were determined and excited, but not exactly welcomed.

The program that was being put on was meant to bring people together and help support the black community primarily and other minorities generally. The intent was to bring everyone together so that there could be peace and increase familiarity so all of our communities could integrate together better. As the event progressed I wanted to move from the place I had taken in the stands in the back so I gathered up the large sticks I had been handed and started moving down closer to the stage. I wanted to sit down in the seats right in front of the stage, but I felt the accusation of "Who are you to support the black community? You aren't one of them so you can't support them this way". It was clear that nobody was good enough to take that front position, not anyone inside or outside of the community, everyone had some reason why they were the wrong person to show their support.

Being unable to find a place to sit I wandered around with these awkwardly large sticks that I kept acquiring from others who had abandoned theirs and I asked someone, "What is the meaning of these symbols I have been carrying around?". They turned and pointed me to the central message of the demonstration, "No more wrong side of the tracks". The sticks were meant to be rail crossing arms that have been removed and broken in half to symbolize breaking down the barrier between the "nicer" part of town and the "poorer" part of town. It is still unclear why they were painted with black and purple stripes instead of the traditional white and red that rail crossing arms are usually painted with. The message of this event was to bring peace and unity to the community as a whole, but it was clear that people either didn't understand that or were agitators that didn't want that.

As I wandered around some nice folks invited me to sit with them and put down the burden of the symbols I was carrying while offering a comfortable place to hear the messages of peace and unifying the community. I ended up staying with them until the event was well over and there was nobody else left except me and the people who stayed at this place pretty much all the time. As I showed myself out to go home the people that were left were talking, focusing on their work, preparing their group's dinner, or other useful activities. I could have stayed longer, but it was time to move along and continue in my own activities.

I have a number of thoughts on the interpretation of what happened in my dream. There is more depth to what I saw than what I could describe here because I'm somewhat limited as I try to write. This is an incredibly apt metaphor for how I feel about the topic of racism. I want to offer support and friendship, but I'm always afraid I'm just going to be seen as (or actually be) "Some white guy trying to come fix us". I was there for peace, I picked up the symbols of the unnecessary barriers being broken, but I never felt welcome or like it was OK for me to be there. As I was arriving in the very beginning multiple people pulled guns on us and some tried to shoot us as we crossed the street and approached the lot where the event was happening.

The people who offered me a place to rest matched my deepest sense of what Christians are. Now before I lose you, I want to make it clear that I am not speaking of what is normally understood to be "church people". There is a vast difference between what churches have demonstrated about the behavior of Christians and what actually following Jesus looks like. These were people who were kind, happy to meet anyone where they were, inviting, and held by a quiet surety that everything was going to be ok. They seemed to be working together in some kind of order, but it wasn't exclusive. There didn't appear to be positions and titles that mattered, everyone was just showing up and doing their part to keep everything moving forward. Some were organizers, some focused on feeding everyone, some worked on whatever odd job was found that needed to be done, and some rested. I felt like I could join them and participate in their work without meeting any entrance requirements and without any sense that they demanded I fix myself to be good enough to help. It felt as if showing up and helping was how I could be healed from the pain that lead me to dysfunction, not that I had to fix what I felt was my dysfunction before I was good enough to help.