Minneapolis is back in the news after nine of the city’s twelve city council members voted to defund their police department. Calls to disband or defund the police have become a common occurrence throughout many of the protests around the country, but they have grown in intensity over the last week. But just what do people mean when they speak of defunding police departments?

It turns out, no one is really quite sure.

In Minneapolis, for example, the city council admitted that while they have some early thoughts, there is not a clear plan in place. They hope to work with representatives from the community over the coming months to develop a system of public safety that places a greater emphasis on community policing efforts and programs aimed at more specific problems. At this point, however, it’s still not clear if the city council even has the legal authority to take this step.

Regardless of the ultimate legality, though, the city’s decision has made national headlines and brought the conversation closer to reality than it has been before. As such, let’s take a closer look at the subject and, ultimately, what we can learn from it to better advance God’s kingdom in our culture.

Reform vs. replace

First, calls to defund or disband police have been around for many years, but they’ve always stayed on the periphery of the conversation because they were seen as both extreme and unnecessary. The argument was that greater accountability and better training would be enough to curb, though not eliminate, the tendencies at the heart of the problem.

Minneapolis city council member Jeremiah Ellison spoke for many, though, when he expressed the need “to dramatically rethink how we approach public safety and emergency response. It’s really past due.” For those who agree with Ellison, the police have been given enough chances at reform, and substantive change is needed.

There are many reasons to think Ellison and those who agree with him are wrong in that assumption, but it points to the basic reality that we only get so many chances to do better before people assume that what’s broken simply can’t be fixed.

Defund doesn’t always mean the same thing

The second point is that not all calls to defund the police have the same goal. While the Minneapolis example paints a fairly clear picture of one extreme, most advocates for change seem wary to go that far.

A more common proposal centers on removing some funding from police departments, as well as certain responsibilities, and reallocating both to other groups. Issues involving mental illness, homelessness, and social services are often cited as examples of jobs that currently fall to the police in many cities but could perhaps be better handled by nonprofits or other groups focused on a single task.

Advocates for these policies also frequently argue that by refining the responsibilities of the police, it could help them better focus on the issues they are best equipped to handle without adding the undue pressure of tasks that might fall outside of their true calling.

Can more police equal better police?

Lastly, a common argument among those who disagree with efforts to defund the police is that the best way to avoid the kinds of abuses and harassment at the heart of recent protests is to hire more police rather than less.

Studies have shown that not only does a larger police presence reduce crime, but it can also mitigate the need for overtime and added responsibilities among those who serve on the force. Research in 2017, moreover, demonstrated that “a single hour of overtime led to a 2.7 percent increase in the odds that the officer would be involved in a use-of-force incident the following week.”

As Matthew Yglesias concluded, “What’s helpful is more officers, not more harassment.” However, those who have been on the receiving end of such harassment counter that it’s hard to have one without the other.

Choosing reason instead of fear

Regardless of what comes from the current conversation about police reform, the manner in which people engage in the discussion is likely to have as great an impact on the outcome as the decisions that are ultimately reached. Fear, rather than reason, is often the motivating factor for people as they think about the future of law enforcement.

For some, that fear is based on negative experiences with the police. For others, the prospect of a future without cops leads to visions of unchecked violence and disorder. As a result, it’s incredibly easy to leave God out of the ensuing discussion.

As Paul taught the Philippians, fear and logic can seldom coexist. Rather, he instructed them, “Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:5–7).

Our culture could really use the protection of Christ Jesus for our hearts and minds at this point. Decisions will likely be made across the coming weeks and months with regards to a number of issues—the future of law enforcement among them—that will greatly impact the future of our society for years to come.

As we seek the Lord’s wisdom and discernment in knowing how to engage in those discussions, it’s vital that we follow Paul’s advice and be reasonable voices guided by the peace of God. That won’t happen, though, if we allow ourselves to be driven by fear instead.

Which will guide your response today?

Denison Forum

James Earl Ray, the escaped convict who assassinated Martin Luther King Jr., was arrested 52 years ago today in London, England. He fled to England after shooting King with the goal of reaching Rhodesia, then led by “an oppressive and internationally condemned white minority government.”

Ray would later confess to killing MLK before recanting and saying he was the fall guy for a much larger conspiracy. There are still a number of people who believe him, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary and multiple investigations across the decades since. The constant harassment by the FBI in King’s final years and his public denouncement of the Vietnam War give many pause in assuming the US government did not play a role in the civil rights leader’s death.

I bring all that up now to remind us that often the lens through which we see the world around us and the actions of others is determined as much by our personal experiences as by the larger reality of the situation.

The impact of a single experience

As I’ve read the various accounts of personal experiences from members of the black community in the wake of recent protests, what’s stood out the most is how even a single incident of racial discrimination can have a lasting impact.

In an article for the Athletic, for example, a series of black writers who cover various teams shared stories of the times they’ve been targeted and mistreated because of their race. The accounts of when they were discriminated against by police were especially poignant and left a clear impression on how they view cops to this day.

And it’s not that all—or even most—police are racist, but enough are to make it a real problem throughout this country.

The simple truth is that the actions of some, if seen as representative of the larger group, can often have an outsized influence on how we see the collective whole. It’s why a few bad cops can make people suspect of police everywhere, and also why a small group of rioters can cast an otherwise peaceful protest in a violent light.

And nowhere is that the case more than when those actions threaten our safety or leave us feeling powerless and afraid.

Why we’re still tribal people

As people, we’re hardwired to gravitate towards grouping both ourselves and others according to easily identifiable characteristics. Most of us have one or two that define the core of our identity and, consequently, how we identify others as well. That basic tendency is often referred to as tribalism.

For some, it’s based on what they do for a living. For others, it’s based on race or culture. Still more find that sense of identity in their faith. But all of us do it to some extent.

For the vast majority of human history, such grouping was necessary for our survival. History has, at least to some degree, trained us to see people who don’t fit in the same groups as we do with skepticism and fear.

However, a society as large, diverse, and interconnected as ours cannot sustain itself under those conditions. And that’s a good thing. After all, just because our nation was able to endure through discrimination and inequality in the past doesn’t mean it should continue in the future.

Where this is becoming a challenge for many of us today, though, is that we can agree on the problem but not the solution. That’s in part because there is no simple solution to the racial discrimination, police brutality, and other factors fueling the recent protests. Just as important, though, is the reality that it’s often simply not possible for us to fully understand the perspectives of people with whom we have trouble identifying.

Understanding what you can’t understand

I don’t know what it’s like to be pulled over by a police officer and searched, questioned, or otherwise harassed without just cause. I can read stories about it and try to empathize with those for whom that moment was not only real but, in many ways, defining, but we can’t truly understand something we’ve never experienced.

In the same way, I don’t know what it’s like to be part of a police department where a coworker was shot making what seemed like a routine stop or was otherwise injured while trying to keep the peace. I can listen and I can try to understand, but I’ve simply never had that experience.

And while neither experience would justify sinful and prejudicial action towards another person, perhaps understanding the degree to which we can’t understand where others are coming from can give us the necessary empathy and self-awareness to find a better path forward than the one we’ve been on to this point.

Ultimately, it’s not a sin to lack understanding, but it becomes a sin if we’re content to continue living in ignorance when that ignorance facilitates the discrimination and degradation of other people’s lives. God has called us to so much more.

Valuing lives over comfort

Eric Stephens put it well in the Athletic article referenced above. In talking about the residual anger and pain from experiences of racial discrimination, he wrote, “Don’t try to relate. I don’t want you to. Just understand. Just acknowledge that in some ways, our existence will always be different than yours. Don’t be afraid to stand up if you see someone being mistreated. And don’t be afraid to speak up and have a conversation about race in public and, more importantly, in private.”

Such actions will seldom be comfortable, but engaging in them anyway puts us in good company. After all, you don’t have to dive too deep in the Gospels to find plenty of examples of uncomfortable conversations Jesus had with those he encountered. But whether it was condemning the religious leaders for being blind and insensitive to the pain caused by their legalism, confronting the woman at the well with her sin, or simply teaching the otherwise bewildered masses, our Lord made a habit of valuing people’s lives over their comfort.

Given his example, can we really afford to do otherwise?

Two paths forward

It’s been two weeks since George Floyd was killed, and the protests, difficult conversations, and calls for real change don’t seem to be going away anytime soon. As such, it seems we’re left with two choices.

The first is to wait and hope that eventually things will get back to normal. I’ll be honest, there’s part of me that wants to do just that.

However, the second option is to take an honest look around us and accept that normal probably isn’t worth getting back to.

I think it’s pretty clear which path will do the most good for the kingdom and for the people God has called us to love with the self-sacrificial empathy, compassion, and concern that Christ displayed for all those who crossed his path.

Which will you choose today?

Denison Forum

I have never felt less qualified to write a Daily Article than I do this morning.

I am a white person who has never faced a single moment of racial discrimination in my sixty-one years of life. As a result, I cannot pretend to understand what it is like to be unfairly treated because of the color of my skin.

I grew up in a middle-class community. As a result, I cannot understand what it is like to despair of a better financial future.

I have never been treated unfairly by the criminal justice system. As a result, I cannot understand what it is like to fear the police and the courts.

I do not own or work at a business affected by the violence of recent days. As a result, I cannot understand what it is like to see my dreams and future destroyed in response to a tragic death in Minneapolis for which I am not at fault.

Fortunately, I do not write the Daily Article to offer my personal opinions. My mission is to help us interpret the news of the day in cultural and biblical context. This morning, I will draw on expert guides to help us do both.

Three explanations 

As I wrote last week, the death of George Floyd on Memorial Day was a horrible tragedy. Our Father hates racism and demands that we value each other as he loves us (Genesis 1:28; Galatians 3:28).

Last night, cities across America saw a sixth evening of mass demonstrations following Mr. Floyd’s death. The entire Washington, DC, National Guard was called in to respond to protests outside the White House and elsewhere in the nation’s capital. A tanker truck drove through thousands of people who were marching on a Minneapolis highway, though none of the protesters was injured. At least forty cities have imposed curfews.

Writing for Bloomberg Opinion, John Authers examines the way Americans are responding to the COVID-19 pandemic. However, I believe his insights apply just as perceptively to the crisis unfolding across our country after George Floyd’s tragic death. Authers utilizes the work of British political philosopher Steven Lukes to describe three schools of thought at work in our society. Each of them helps explain the unrest embroiling our cities.

Utilitarians seek the greatest good for the greatest number. This is the impulse behind majority-rule democracy. However, this approach can put minority populations at risk, a fact experienced by many racial minorities across our nation’s history.

Communitarians want us to do what advances the “common good” within our community. But when your community’s common good conflicts with mine, what do we do? Some are justifying the violence of recent days as necessary to effect change, even if minority-owned and operated businesses are among the victims of such violence. In this view, previous calls for change have gone unheeded, requiring an escalating response that causes majority populations to feel the pain of minority victims.

Libertarians insist that individual freedom is paramount. But as Authers notes, when citizens are left alone, “many are left to sleep on the street, city centers are full of sleaze, and a few rich people benefit from gambling.”

Each of these viewpoints is foundational to American society. Can they be reconciled? According to Isaiah Berlin, the twentieth-century British philosopher and essayist, the answer is no.

Responses to George Floyd’s death are making his point. Some minorities feel they must demonstrate in large numbers to bring about change with the utilitarian majority. Some are willing to march (and some even to perpetuate violence) in other communities to make themselves heard. Many are protesting the libertarian lack of resources and compassion for people in need.

Jesus’ solution 

I began today’s Daily Article by admitting that I do not know what it is like to experience racial discrimination, face systemic poverty, encounter injustice, or suffer as an innocent victim of violence.

But Jesus does.

He lived his life as a Jew under Roman occupation. He was so impoverished that he “nowhere to lay his head” (Luke 9:58). After his arrest, he was subjected to what has been called “the most unjust trial in human history.” He suffered and died in innocence (Isaiah 53:9; Hebrews 4:15), atoning for sins he did not commit to purchase our salvation (Romans 5:8).

As a result, Jesus has the moral authority to speak to this crisis in a way I do not. For the next few days, we’ll discuss his example and teachings as we seek his guidance together.

For today, let’s consider the single sentence that is often considered his foundational ethical principle: “Whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets” (Matthew 7:12). This one maxim provides a way forward through the scourge of racism and violence in our day. And it reconciles the utilitarian, communitarian, and libertarian conflicts so endemic to our culture.

Consider: If every person did to others what they would want to be done to them, would racial prejudice exist? Or police brutality? Or violent responses?

Would a single person have ever been enslaved in this land or any other? Would even one of the 40.3 million people enslaved in the world today be victims?

Would the majority oppress the minority? Would members of one community oppress members of another? Would a single individual be left to face our fallen world alone?

My commitment 

I cannot force another person to choose Jesus’ rule for living, but I can choose it for myself. I can seek the most strategic, significant ways to use my influence in its service. I can pray for divine help as I love every person I meet as I want them to love me, modeling Jesus’ transformational love for us all.

This is my commitment today. Will you join me?

Denison Forum