Out of the Two comes One

After a short detour to the question of wisdom, I thought we'd return to the exploration of my two worlds the pulpit and the pavement; the life of a cop that's a preacher. 

Part Seven:

The question of the spiritual is one that often comes up. Let me assure you, it is very real. This is perhaps the one juncture where my two worlds have their greatest overlap. When you think about it, aren’t all the moral questions, the questions of right and wrong, questions of the heart— not the heart in the romantic sense, but in the sense of judgment, of truth—of what we see ultimately as being truth.  

There was an occasion when a gentleman had been booked in for a rather heinous crime involving the rape and torture of a child. This man was demon possessed. He would often sit in his cell and have conversations with his unseen host. Now, I know there is such a thing as being mentally ill, but a person who is truly enduring a psychotic episode does, not respond to the verbal command to stop.  Verbal commands have little effect in derailing either auditory or visual hallucinations. 

This particular inmate was self-destructive and violent. He was known to cut himself and use his own blood to paint his cell and write inscriptions on the walls. On this particular day in question, he had taken his reinforced plastic lunch tray and snapped it into several pieces—pieces that could be used as a weapon. It was my job to escort the doctor into the cell in order to administer his medication…i.e., something that would make him sleep.

Because it was my job and pleasure to be the one wearing the badge, I entered the cell approximately three minutes before the doctor. When I entered, this man was growling and cutting himself with a shared from the tray. I stood a safe distance away for him, which was only about five feet in this small cell, and addressed him. I began by saying, “I know you know who I am, and I know you know who Jesus is.” Then I told him that because he knew who Jesus was, I knew he knew he could not touch me. I then told him that he was bound by the power and authority of the name of Jesus, and that he was not allowed to speak or interact as long as the doctor was in the cell…that I only wanted to hear from and speak to the real person whose body it was. 

He immediately sat and the growling stopped. He then looked at me with the most pitiful eyes I’d ever seen. Just about that time, the doc walked in and did his routine. On the way out he thanked me for my ability to work with the mentally ill.  I laughed and told him the same story I just told you.  He nodded, giggled, and walked away shaking his head. 

I turned and looked back up at the cell I had just secured behind the doc and myself to see that same inmate raging at an unseen guest, cursing at the world. Of course a few minutes later, he was sound asleep, curled in a ball on the floor. But the point of the story is yes…oh yes, the spiritual is very real ….Just saying.

It’s a Question of Wisdom: Part Three

Now comes the question of the relationship between pain and wisdom. Consider the perspective that they are linked, two sides of the same coin. Remember how I said wisdom is acquired over time, one day at a time, and one experience at a time. And due to the pleasure-seeking bend of our natures, suffering is one of the only things that cause us to draw back and contemplate our choices.

Now, for argument sakes, let’s not confuse suffering with pain. Suffering can come in many forms: loss, being overlooked for promotion, realizing you have to save before you make a certain purchase…etc. These forms of suffering are as valuable to the development of the character of the man as are the weights and the cardio training is to the Olympian.   But while they represent suffering, they may not truly be pain.

The suffering or pain experienced, if surrendered to the knowledge and wisdom of God, will produce wisdom in the person. The key to this transition is to not confuse the acquisition of information with wisdom. Wisdom, therefore, is not just gathering information and knowledge; it is not even using that information in a productive manner; wisdom ~true wisdom~ is then defined as the proper submission and use of information and knowledge to the will of God.  Think about it.

It’s a Question of Wisdom: Part Two

One of the wisest people I’ve ever known was my great-grandmother, Viola K. Johnson.  She couldn’t read or write, never used a telephone, or drove a car; and I have no memories of her with anything other than silver hair. But Grand-mama was wise. She understood people and the roles they played in the schemes of life. She understood power and the perception of power and the value of hard honest work.

I remember one day in particular when this wisdom rose to the surface; remember what I said about integrating knowledge/information into the life at just that right time. Well here’s an example of one such event. As you know, I was raised in the South in the 60’s. My hometown was a hotbed for of the Civil Rights movement where Klan marches were not uncommon.  On one muggy summer afternoon, this white man was lost in our neighborhood and being a child I was somewhat fascinated that a white man would be in our part of town…that usually just didn’t happen.

On this particular day, I walked out to the man’s car to say hi and to introduce myself as a child of four or five might. This man, who I later came to understand acted out of fear, cursed me and call me a nigger among several other derogatory epitaphs. This made me angry to the point of hot tears streaking my dusty face.  My great-grandmother, who had watched the scene from her rocking chair just inside the front door, called me in and pulled me up on her lap.  After making sure I was comfortable, she began to rock and hum her favorite song, Precious Lord. 

She was waiting for the proper timing.

When a few minutes had passed, she asked me about the experience. I sat up, and looked at her wrinkled face and said, “Mamma white folks are evil.”

She smiled and pulled me back against her bosom and said in response, “No baby, that white man was evil. He was just scared and acted out of his fear.” She went on to tell me, “In your life you will meet some good white folk and some bad white folk, some good black folk and bad black folk.” Then she looked at me and said, “Baby, people’s people. Everywhere you go people’s people.”  Now that was wisdom.

It’s a Question of Wisdom: Part One

Wisdom, as I see it, must have as its foundation truth in order to qualify as true wisdom. There is a marked difference between wisdom and the mere accumulation of knowledge or information, as there is a vast difference between wealth and riches. For instance, if a person had as much as $22,000,000.00 but a debt of $25,000,000.00, then we could not call him rich in spite of his obvious wealth. Compare this to the man with $22,000.00 but a debt of only $18,000.00, who would then be the far richer person? The same is true of wisdom. Some have said that wisdom is the proper use of knowledge. I guess to some degree that is correct; as long as one has the right standard for what proper is and what it is not. Wisdom, therefore, then cannot be separated from its root in Christ. In any persuasion and in any application where one diverges from the pattern of Christ, it cannot be said of him or her that they are wise or are using wisdom. Therefore, as we began to search for the elements of wisdom in a man’s character, we must first see the traits of Christ in him. This person would be one who listens more than he speaks, one who studies and says less than he knows, and one who loves with the purpose of seeing God’s will revealed in another person’s life. However, unlike mere knowledge/information, wisdom cannot be compiled in a cram session but must be acquired over time. Even when one knows what is right, understanding the true integration of the correct knowledge into the life, and proper timing into the life, is where and how wisdom is matured. So the slow acquisition, one day at a time, one incident at a time, being properly compiled and submitted to the revealed will of God, results in the production of wisdom. ...Think about it.

Out of the Two comes One

Part Six: The one thing that is always true of my duel professions is that there are always intersections where the two worlds are poised for conflict. (You know what they say about phrases with the word always in them…they are always false. Smile.) The experience that gives substance to the lie is my working in the jail. Whenever a new inmate arrived, especially when that inmate was charged with a particularly horrible crime, I was challenged to be something different than that which was common around me. Where my fellow deputies might give into a lower impulse…nothing illegal, but still lower than what would be acceptable to the Lord, I would have to forgo that impulse. There was an occasion where on one night an inmate came in and was offensive in almost every way you might think, even to the point of his attacking a fellow deputy. At this point, it was my duty to stop the threat while assisting my fellow officer. The hard part came in having to stop myself. The impulse to give into anger, to become the punisher rather than the administer of justice. Conflict. The question of how to institute the higher law of grace and mercy where doing things “the normal way” would not be questioned. On most of these occasions this conflict did not register with anyone else, for the battle was solely within myself. Do I apply that control-hold for that one extra heartbeat; do I ignore that inmate’s reasonable request just because of what he’s done or who he might be? These are the battles I fought and still fight. But then again, in reality, it is the battle we all fight: Will we do the right thing when it is time for the right thing to be done? Conflict….Just saying.

Out of the Two comes One

Part Five: One of the more common questions I’m asked is how do I blend my two worlds into one. The question is generally posed as if there really did exist a separation between the spiritual and the secular; as if I could be one person at work and another at home and church. It became one of my constant goals to be congruent— to have my words and actions agree with my testimony. This brings to mind a day on which I failed. One crisp Saturday morning the shift progressed as usual. I was working in the medical ward. In this ward there was a particular block where those inmates with contagious diseases were housed separate from other sick inmates. On this particular day there was one inmate, who being rather obstinate, provoked me to wrath. [Smile] In police-talk we call this heinous crime Contempt of Cop, and in most jurisdictions, it is considered a serious felony. Well, after being repeatedly disrespected, disobeyed, and challenged—yes, I lost my temper. I stalked out of the control booth and stormed up to the inmate’s cell and snatched open the door. At this point I challenged the man to the fight he had been begging me for all morning. But, like with most inmates, once the door opened, his glass-courage evaporated. Glass-courage is that courage an inmate has when he is locked safely behind the cell door glass. When I walked into his cell and stood over him, I could see the fear in his eyes and only then—once the eyes of all the other inmates and the nursing staff and the other deputy—did I mention I had been telling this deputy about the love of Jesus? --Back to the story.-- I finally heard my partner calling me over the intercom and reminding me that this inmate was not worth my job. Then the truth of the matter settled over me. I had put my testimony on the line. It seemed the Lord was always using the situations of my day to teach me about Him and about myself. The question now, as it was then, is am I listening. ...Just saying.

Out of the Two comes One

Part Four: When asked what stands out about wearing the badge while living in the light of the empty tomb, what comes to my mind is an event that taught me more about the nature of grace than all the lectures I’ve heard on the subject combined. It was early in the shift. I can’t remember what season, but I think it might have been summer— either way it was Southern Cal and all the days are beautiful. Two days prior to this, I had received a novel as a gift and discovered it to be one of those that I just could not put down. On the morning in question, I brought the book with me to read on my breaks. And as fate would have it, or in the case the plan adn mind of God, during the morning roll, it fell to me to run the count on the first floor in booking. While making this round, I came across a single male inmate sitting in a cell designated for at least 20 persons. When I opened the cell to confirm this inmate’s identity, I saw that he was reading a copy of “the” novel. No, not the one I’d written, but the one I was reading at the time. During this early stage in my career, I was still enamored with my shiny new badge and I couldn’t see how anyone of “those people”— those inmates, could have anything in common with me. Time stopped. I stalked to where the inmate sat reading a tattered copy of “the” novel and snatched it from his hands. Fear washed over the young man’s face as his color drained. He went rigid on the stone bench. “Where did you get this?” I demanded. The inmate stuttered, “I-I-I found it on the floor. I didn’t mean to do nothing wrong, sir. I’m sorry. You can have it. I don’t want no trouble.” With that, he stretched both palms toward me as if to push me away. In the breath of that moment, I realized the truth of the statement, “Except for the grace of God, there go I.” In the blazing light of this new revalation, I just stood there, studying the fear on the man’s face, shocked at the anger in my voice and displayed on my face. I stopped. I prayed. I repented. Then I gave the book back and apologized. I left that cell a humbled man. The point? The only difference between us and “those people” is God….Just saying.