One of the most crucial dimensions of letting go is the recognition that there is no need to change an event or person. This is extremely rare and demands a respect and reverence beyond most of us.
But, we argue, shouldn't we want to change an undesirable happening, or to change a person who obviously needs changing? The answer is, no. We can be there, and God's presence can be there in us and through us, and that's all we can do. Whatever changes are appropriate will occur. But that is quite different from our struggling to change people and trying to change events.
There will be very little celebration and transcendence and lifting of another's burdens when we're hoping to change them and "clean them up." I have discovered through the years that it is very heavy work to get another cleaned up. And it's even heavier to get a community cleaned up.
The task, I think, is to enjoy the other more. To experience the wonder of the person, to be more open, more attentive, to learn from the person or the community, and to revel in the surprises that are given. If the person or community changes, good. If not, you've celebrated who they are. You've lived in the Now. N. Gordon Cosby
Recently I was revisiting this quote by Cosby and it always causes me to think and reconsider things in a different light. The story that comes to mind is a painful one that I call "Like Mike".
Three summer’s ago I was working with the kids from my churches Reaching Higher ministry, which is a urban outreach for at risk kids.. This is a ministry that has been going on for about eleven years now and is centered around three apartment complexes and one neighborhood in Tulare, California. Each summer when school lets out, the ministry season is done and the volunteers take a couple of months off I go out with two other friends and we visit each of the sights over the course of a week. We usually bring something to eat and a football to pass around.
It was about a month into the summer vacation and the kids had gotten into the rhythm of us visiting them and would be waiting for us to arrive each week. This week’s visit was a little different right from the start. Usually my good friend Roman, who was in third grade at the time, would be waiting for me so he could be the first one to hold the football and round up all the other boys for a game. I didn’t see Roman or to many of the other kids from complex. I made my rounds and visited with some of the adults until my friends arrived. It was a typical Central Valley summer day, hotter then blazes, so it really didn’t surprise me all that much not to see kids hanging out by the playground.
My friends arrived and I got the ice chest out of my pickup so we could have some lunch under the trees in the center of the apartment complex. With the prospect of a free lunch all the kids began to make there way to the shade trees. After a prayer and short devotional we began to serve the kids lunch which consisted of bean burritos and water.
Then I saw Roman come riding up with an older boy who I had never seen before. The older boy didn’t want to come near the group and Roman was trying to get him to join the group and at least get some lunch, but he wouldn’t. I walked over to Roman and started to make some small talk. I asked him how things were going and he talked about how this new bike he was riding had been given to him by his new friend Mike. He went on to tell me that Mike had just moved from Oakland into the apartments with his mom and sister. I introduced myself to Mike and then my friends.
Roman was a boy who had no father in his life, who was much younger then his other siblings and was starved for attention, so when I saw him hanging out with this older boy who was seventeen years old I was more then a little worried.
As we all ate lunch I sat with some younger kids and we talked. I asked the kids about this the new boy, Mike. One of the younger girls spoke right up and said that he was a mean boy and like to boss the kids around. I asked the others if it was true and they all said their mom’s didn’t want them around this new kid. After we were done eating I walked over to Roman to talk with him. I asked him about the bike he was riding and he told me Mike had given it to him. This was a nice bike that even I wouldn’t have been able to buy for either of my boys. Even the bike Mike was riding didn’t fit the neighborhood.
By now the boys wanted to play some catch with the football so we all moved over on the grass. I asked Mike if he wanted to play and he did. He stood by me and I was able to have a little conversation with him. He was a boy with something to prove and he told a tall tale of his life back in Oakland.
Our time at the apartments was winding and we were having the kids help us pick the trash from lunch when I heard some cussing very loudly. It was Mike. I asked him if he would mind not using that kind of language around all the little ones who were helping clean up. I could tell he was mad at me and he rode off.
A few minutes later Mike came riding back up. We had just circled up all the kids to say a parting prayer. I asked Mike if he would like to join us. He walked over to me, started to cuss very loudly again and got right up in my face. I told Mike we could talk after the kids left, but I could tell he was trying to provoke me into doing something. My initial reaction was to subdue him and short of him having a knife or gun already drawn there is nothing he could have done to stop me from doing that. I could feel the rage just boiling inside me that was soon to be released on Mike not only for his bad language, but also for what he was doing to Roman, the kids and the complex. Then in that same instance all I could think of was then I would be just like Mike working at and perpetuating the left side of the table, the worldview built on force and retaliation. It still took all I could do to stand down. All eyes were fixed on what was about to happen and nothing did. Mike just got on his bike and road away. Some of the boys came up to me and asked me why I didn’t kick that guys butt. They were saying it not just because they wanted to see a fight, but also because Mike was a guy they were afraid of and they wanted him to feel their pain and fear. My friends and I hung out for a while longer to try to talk through what had happened and how to deal with Mike.
All I could think about that night and the next day was how I was going to deal with this Mike situation. All I could do was pray and ask God to protect those at the apartments and to give me the strength to handle the situation in a Christ like way if confronted again. I really wanted to try to talk with Mike, but felt in my heart that it wouldn’t be a good idea until tensions settled a bit.
Friday morning while reading the paper I noticed a little column off to the side on the front page and it read: “A seventeen year old boy whose name they could not release because he was a minor was found dead in the cemetery early this morning. Apparently he had been stabbed in the Cambridge apartments, because that is where police followed the blood trail.” The first thing that came to my mind was that it was Mike’s body they found in the cemetery. I called a friend at the police department to find out more information and he said he would get back to me. The next day the newspaper had more information and so did my friend. It was indeed Mike’s body that police had found in the cemetery. Apparently, an old brother to one of the families in the apartment complex we visited on Wednesday didn’t like what new kid was doing to the residence and their kids. There is an unwritten law that says you protect those in your neighborhood and you don’t steal from your own. Mike had found this out the hard way. Urban justice had taken its own course.
I didn’t know what to think. Deep down I was glad that the problem had been solved. I know that’s a terrible thing to think, but now the complex was safe again and things would return too normal or so I thought. Mike’s mother and sister were both devastated and alienated. Devastated because they had moved from Oakland to get away from the violence and it followed them. Alienated because of what her son did to the neighborhood and also because a son and brother had to go to jail because of righting a wrong as bad as that seems. Roman was devastated and alienated. Devastated because he had again lost someone who valued and saw purpose in him even if for the wrong reasons. Now just like his father and grandmother someone he cared about left him. He was alienated because Roman was associated with the bad guy, Mike. But I think the neighborhood paid the biggest price because violence is what brought them justice. Not God, not the law, not me, but the unseen system of force and retaliation.
That summer my friends and I were left to pick up the pieces of so many broken lives. We all wrestled with the question and me most of all. “What if?” What if I had done things different? Could I have stopped this by going back to find Mike and talking it through? What if? What If?
I still haven’t to this day chosen to unpack the events of that summer personally, but this quote by Cosby has caused me to consider many things and I do rest assured no matter what I acted faithfully to Jesus’ way that day. Seeing the right side of the table makes a lot of sense now in regards to that summer where it was very hard to like Mike. Later.
