Unless you know me, you might be surprised by what I tend to read for fun. I am a fan of a well-written murder mystery, especially if it’s set in England or Scotland. It has to be a mystery, not a thriller or tale of espionage, and it needs to be a well-written blend of drama with only light touches of humor, plus it needs to make me look at something differently or at least think about something in a new way. Fortunately for me, there are a number of excellent authors who write just that kind of book.
One of my favorites is Ian Rankin, a Scottish writer whose Detective John Rebus has been around since the late 1980’s, aging not particularly gracefully but mellowing a touch in his retirement. Rankin is not always heavy-handed with social commentary, but there’s plenty one can discern from the interactions of the characters, their conversations, and the sometimes unexpected changes in Rebus that result from his interactions with people different from himself. He sometimes comes face to face with his own prejudices and begins to confront them.
Rankin's book entitled Fleshmarket Close takes a hard look at a detention center where people who illegally entered the country are warehoused. They are caught in limbo, fearing deportation back to the violence of their home countries and denied entrance into the country to which they have fled for asylum. If it sounds familiar, it ought to because some of these very same issues are hot in the United States, as well.
Stef Yurgii is the Kurdish journalist who is murdered. He had been one of the lucky ones who was allowed to stay, even though his family was still crowded into a small space with too many other families at Whitmire Detention Center. As the story unfolds, you see a wide range of attitudes from various characters, and when Rebus intervenes to protect a human rights lawyer named Mohammed “Mo” Dirwan, he is bemused by Dirwan’s relentless cheerfulness and casual assumption that there’s more to Rebus than meets the eye.
In one memorable scene, another officer betrays thinly veiled racism towards both Dirwan and the deceased victim, and Rebus swiftly steps in to steer the two men apart. As the other officer departs, Rebus asks Dirwan if he can tell within a few seconds what kind of person he’s dealing with, and Mo responds in the affirmative but says that he finds Rebus a bit harder to pin down. The next part of their conversation has stuck with me ever since I first read the book in 2004. Rebus asks:
"But all cops are racist?"
"We are all racist, Inspector — even me. It is how we deal with that ugly fact that is important."
Did you get that? " We are all racist ...It is how we deal with that ugly fact that is important."
It's a profound and yes, ugly fact that the world into which we are born is structured in such a way that the worth of a person is often judged by skin color rather than the content of her or his character. The history of the United States is not alone in that, as evinced here in Rankin's book, but the current world spotlight is on the legacy of slavery and Jim Crow that continues to produce strange fruit and brutal consequences to this day.
In the eighteenth century, the concept of race was not yet as developed and systematized as now, but notions of the inferiority of dark-skinned people were pervasive. In his Thoughts on Slavery, John Wesley attacked the slave trade and refused to excuse the people who claimed that their purchases of goods that came from slave labor were innocent. He points out that they are culpable because they are not ignorant of the plight and suffering of those who are enslaved, and he exclaims that the blood of their brother (and by extension, sister) is poured out on the ground like water and cries out to God just as Abel's blood did when his brother Cain killed him.
And here we are nearly 300 years after Wesley's sermon, and those same attitudes have solidified and injustices still persist, and our nation is convulsing in the throes of the pain. How will we deal with this ugly fact?
We are now in the season of Pentecost, when we recall the mighty acts of the Holy Spirit in emboldening and sending the apostles firth on their mission as the Church.
This is a hinge moment of history, and it is the Church's job to be led by the Spirit and to live out the gospel of Jesus Christ who came to set the prisoner free, to proclaim release to the captives, to give sight to the blind, and bring healing to the sick. I pray that we will humble ourselves in the sight of the Lord and let the healing waters flow, lifting us to new understanding and repentance and hope for a better way forward as God's justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.
One of my favorites is Ian Rankin, a Scottish writer whose Detective John Rebus has been around since the late 1980’s, aging not particularly gracefully but mellowing a touch in his retirement. Rankin is not always heavy-handed with social commentary, but there’s plenty one can discern from the interactions of the characters, their conversations, and the sometimes unexpected changes in Rebus that result from his interactions with people different from himself. He sometimes comes face to face with his own prejudices and begins to confront them.
Rankin's book entitled Fleshmarket Close takes a hard look at a detention center where people who illegally entered the country are warehoused. They are caught in limbo, fearing deportation back to the violence of their home countries and denied entrance into the country to which they have fled for asylum. If it sounds familiar, it ought to because some of these very same issues are hot in the United States, as well.
Stef Yurgii is the Kurdish journalist who is murdered. He had been one of the lucky ones who was allowed to stay, even though his family was still crowded into a small space with too many other families at Whitmire Detention Center. As the story unfolds, you see a wide range of attitudes from various characters, and when Rebus intervenes to protect a human rights lawyer named Mohammed “Mo” Dirwan, he is bemused by Dirwan’s relentless cheerfulness and casual assumption that there’s more to Rebus than meets the eye.
In one memorable scene, another officer betrays thinly veiled racism towards both Dirwan and the deceased victim, and Rebus swiftly steps in to steer the two men apart. As the other officer departs, Rebus asks Dirwan if he can tell within a few seconds what kind of person he’s dealing with, and Mo responds in the affirmative but says that he finds Rebus a bit harder to pin down. The next part of their conversation has stuck with me ever since I first read the book in 2004. Rebus asks:
"But all cops are racist?"
"We are all racist, Inspector — even me. It is how we deal with that ugly fact that is important."
Did you get that? " We are all racist ...It is how we deal with that ugly fact that is important."
It's a profound and yes, ugly fact that the world into which we are born is structured in such a way that the worth of a person is often judged by skin color rather than the content of her or his character. The history of the United States is not alone in that, as evinced here in Rankin's book, but the current world spotlight is on the legacy of slavery and Jim Crow that continues to produce strange fruit and brutal consequences to this day.
In the eighteenth century, the concept of race was not yet as developed and systematized as now, but notions of the inferiority of dark-skinned people were pervasive. In his Thoughts on Slavery, John Wesley attacked the slave trade and refused to excuse the people who claimed that their purchases of goods that came from slave labor were innocent. He points out that they are culpable because they are not ignorant of the plight and suffering of those who are enslaved, and he exclaims that the blood of their brother (and by extension, sister) is poured out on the ground like water and cries out to God just as Abel's blood did when his brother Cain killed him.
And here we are nearly 300 years after Wesley's sermon, and those same attitudes have solidified and injustices still persist, and our nation is convulsing in the throes of the pain. How will we deal with this ugly fact?
We are now in the season of Pentecost, when we recall the mighty acts of the Holy Spirit in emboldening and sending the apostles firth on their mission as the Church.
This is a hinge moment of history, and it is the Church's job to be led by the Spirit and to live out the gospel of Jesus Christ who came to set the prisoner free, to proclaim release to the captives, to give sight to the blind, and bring healing to the sick. I pray that we will humble ourselves in the sight of the Lord and let the healing waters flow, lifting us to new understanding and repentance and hope for a better way forward as God's justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.
Amen. What indeed will we do about the fact. I’m currently reading biased by Jennifer Eberhardr. Her work is on implicit bias, especially working with police departments. It’s eye opening.
ReplyDelete