I saw that a movie is being released in conjunction with the fifty year anniversary of one of the worst race riots of the late sixties, Detroit. I don't know if I'll see the movie, but just the announcement brought back memories. During the same era, twenty or so miles north of where I lived, large parts of Chicago burned. Just a few miles from where we lived stores where my family shopped and my friends worked were looted, torched, and eventually shut down (here).
My roots are in the Middle South. I grew up in the Troubled North. My years of pastoral ministry were spent in a place better described as "mountain" than "southern," yet the vestiges of segregation were still evident, and the patterns of life that went all the way back to when one man owned another are undeniable. Now, I live in a place where a plethora of people groups live, and the struggle goes on.
Like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., "I have a dream." I'm beginning to see that more than something I dream for, it needs to be a star that I aim for, to keep me on track. The way I relate to people and the worth in them that I see has nothing to do with color of skin, language spoken, or place where they grew up. Smart people are better at some tasks than some of the rest of us. For other things, strong people excel. Neither of those qualities, though, nor any of the other usual measurements, determines one's worth. People are valuable and worthy of respect because people bear the image of God. People are the ones for whom the Son of God died. The band of the redeemed who will praise God in eternity are made up of every tribe, and tongue, and nation.
Lord, help me to keep aiming at that star.
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