We take a break from our normally scheduled programming to spend a couple minutes on another topic churches don’t always handle well, race relations.

Last Sunday night, my family and I entered a very different world than we normally live in. Our normal life is lived in a suburb of Des Moines, safe and comfortable. But less than a mile away protests over the killing of George Floyd have been raging for days. Sunday night we left our comfortable home to experience these protests firsthand. When I say “we,” I mean me, my wife and our four children. We wanted to bypass the media accounts and internet depictions and actually see, feel, and try to understand these protests in real life.

No doubt some will find this reckless and irresponsible. Maybe it was, but let me explain. My wife and I are white pastors of an Evangelical church. Our demographics stereotype us to one side of this fracas. Our kids are white and enjoy the privileges therein. Part of our choice to go to the protest was to show some small level of solidarity with the protesters and their cause and to better understand what they are fighting for.

Perhaps our choice was rooted in naivete. After all, we were downwind of some tear gas at one point and all of us experienced a minute or two of shocking discomfort. If our choice was naive then it was a naivete that we wished to move beyond, even in a small way. So for the first time, our children walked through an atmosphere where the police were armed in riot gear, and shooting tear gas. They felt what it was like to be afraid of the authorities. We used this as an opportunity to explain to them that this was an unchosen reality for many of their friends of color.

We didn’t stay too long at this protest. The tear gas impelled us to keep moving, so we headed downtown to experience another protest. This one was far more peaceful and staged in front of the Des Moines Police Station. There we found the protesters on one side of the street and police on the other. We saw news crews and drones recording the event. And we noticed police on the rooftops looking for more incendiary people who were prone to light the fuse of violence. (The most disturbing thing we saw all evening was a pair of young white men riding bikes through the first site armed with a baseball bat and machete. It’s hard to imagine they were planning on a peaceful protest.) At the Police Station protest there was anger and passion, but things were peaceful. And in a beautiful moment of solidarity, lament, (dare I say repentance?), both sides of the street knelt in memory of the death of George Floyd. After this the protesters dispersed in peace.

I am no expert on the racial injustices of our nation, but I know they are there. I have no great wisdom about how best to move forward, but I’m learning. (I would suggest Rediscipling the White Church by David W. Swanson as a good start.) What I do know is that we will never make progress on this important issue through disconnected ways of relating. Television, social media, blogs (yes I see the irony) aren’t the solution. They are often part of the problem.

Real relationships are risky. Entering into another world is uncomfortable. Conversing with people who see things differently is not peaceful. Taking your family to a potentially violent protest is not safe.

But let us not forget that our God is a relational God, one who left the peace and glory of heaven to enter our dirty, stinking, messed up world. He emptied himself and took the humble form of a baby. This is what love looks like. This is what leads to peace. This is what brings unity.

If we (white people) want to see the racial divisions in our nation healed, we will need to take some risks, enter into some uncomfortable situations and build relationships with those who aren’t like us. This is simply what God’s love does.