Riot or Resistance?

Disclaimer: My view expressed here does not necessarily represent the respective views of other AMI pastors.  

No doubt some readers will find what I share today offensive, if not entirely missing the point, while to others, it is too diluted and compromised. Both outlooks may well be true. Nevertheless, these reflections come from my heart—one that the Lord began to soften amid the dark days that engulfed my city of Los Angeles almost 30 years ago . . .

Philadelphia on Sunday night (5.31) reminded me of Los Angeles in 1992 after the beating of Rodney King. The LA riots resulted in the death of 58 people, 17,000 arrests, and $785 million in property damage (LA Times). Some preferred to call it an “insurrection”—an eruption of righteous anger against the injustice that was police brutality. Back then it was Rodney King, a Black man, whose arrest included being viciously beaten by several White policemen led by Lawrence Powell. Thirty years later, nothing has changed; these names can be replaced by George Floyd and Derek Chauvin. Was what happened in Los Angeles a simple riot or a righteous insurrection? Is the current movement a riot or an insurrection (a.k.a., a resistance movement)? The answer is not simple.

It was the Saturday morning after a long night of protests; a few members of our church joined thousands of Angelinos to clean up the aftermath from the night before. We saw torched and burnt buildings, many still smoldering in smoke, and we cleaned under the watchful eye of the National Guard. It was a shocking sight to behold. Truthfully, I was more fixated on the damage done to the city rather than what drove thousands of Black Americans to protest being treated like subhumans by the police. Back then, my mind was not preoccupied with the historical plight of Blacks—from slavery to Jim Crow; “separate-but-equal” to the current police brutality. Instead, I thought of the ransacked stores owned by Koreans, many of whom, in the words of one Black leader, “assumed black customers, regardless of their appearance or class background...to be thieves.” And I certainly didn’t agree with what Cecil Murray, senior pastor of the First African Methodist Episcopal Church in Los Angeles (FAMEC), said on television: “Koreans learned their racism from Whites.” He was wrong of course: while not all Koreans were racists, the ones that were actually brought their racism from Korea!

The next day was Sunday. A few hours before heading to church, I was praying with a heavy heart, and my mind suddenly saw a clear image of our church people standing in front of the FAMEC with a message of love, unity and peace. And I genuinely began to feel for Black people whose plights I could never know, but strive to understand. I knew it was from the Lord, and I had to obey Him. During service, I told our church people that we would collect a love offering to buy food, drive to Los Angeles after service, and donate the food to FAMEC’s food drive. Then we would stand before the church with a message: on several poster boards, we wrote in bold letters, Peace and Unity in Christ and No to Violence, Yes to God’s Love in Christ. Though our church was predominantly Asian American, I remember seeing our church members Fernando (Latino), Andrew (White), and Carla (Black) standing together to represent unity in Christ regardless of racial differences. The nervousness I felt as I stood there with my church, even as several FAMEC congregants approached us, was quickly dispelled when they sincerely appreciated our presence there, even giving us bottles of water.

That day, the Lord challenged me to change. That change has been slow but happening; thanks to a colleague and friend of mine, I’ve learned what it means to listen with my heart when Black people talk about what it means to be Black in America (a miracle to anyone who knows me!).

So— the events of Los Angeles nearly three decades ago and the events of today: riots or righteous resistance? As a teaching pastor, I often present a theology called the radical middle, within which we embrace propositions that are antithetical. On the one hand, Black people, aggrieved and violated once again (in Minneapolis, Georgia, and New Mexico), are speaking out against INJUSTICE. It is a righteous anger, much in line with Nehemiah, who “rebuked . . . and called curses down on [those who repeatedly disobeyed God. He even] beat some of the men and pulled their hair” (Neh. 13:25). While many of the protests that the media may not necessarily highlight are peaceful, some have involved the destruction of police vehicles and precincts.  And yet, while these acts of aggression are not right, we can certainly see—from the standpoint of aggrieved Blacks—the rationale and symbolic significance of such wrongheaded demonstrations.

But it could all too quickly descend to the level of gratuitous violence when some people author their own injustice, by looting stores owned by PEOPLE like themselves—Whites, Blacks, Latinx, and yes, even Koreans—who support their families with what they earn. And doing this serves no rationale to their cause whatsoever. Do I feel this way because I’m unable to empathize with their rage? Is it because I expect too much from people whose emotions have been pent up from decades of injustice? No doubt it is so; nevertheless, I stand on this principle that gratuitous violence is never okay under any circumstances and no matter what the case. We are followers of Christ: the end never justifies any means.

I am a minister who is not trained to engage in conversations about politics or sociology at the level where change takes place. So, young people: get right with God, seek the appropriate training (e.g., law school, public policy, etc.), renounce a lifestyle of riches and fame, and enter politics, law enforcement or nonprofit work to effect changes on this side of heaven, on behalf of the powerless. Make sure, however, to tell them about Jesus, because He is the only one who can change the soul within.

So, do black lives matter? Absolutely, because every human being bearing God’s image matters. Each person, therefore, ought to be treated with respect and kindness, for that’s what our Creator does for an ungrateful humanity that has long turned its back on Him (Acts 14:17; Rom. 2:4, 3:10-18). In the meantime, we pay special attention to the lives of Black Americans because "the parts that we [read, some police or society at large] think are less honorable we treat with special honor" (1 Cor. 12:23b).