A three-part series of open letters from a biracial man to a hurting nation

This is part three. 

To my dear fellow Christians,  

I didn’t sign up for this. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Do you ever feel like this? Like things are just wildly overwhelming and unfair? It makes you look fondly back on distant memories of better days, regardless of whether those times of the past were as delightful as we now remember them. You envision all the ways things could be easier. You can list all the ways people could treat you better. You have that ever-present, anxiety inducing feeling that only comes from mismanaged expectations easily summed up with the thought: I didn’t think it would be this hard. 

I can vividly remember some pivotal “this is harder than I thought it would be” moments in my life. I had food poisoning on “day zero” of Ranger School. It’s the day you do all your in-processing and paperwork before the nightmare starts on day one. I threw up five times and went into the most physically challenging day of my life with no food in me for energy. I can also recall the exhaustion of my first mission trip to the Dominican Republic. The heat, the endless energy of the children, and the long days made it much more difficult than I had expected.  These examples are obviously pretty specific to my life, but there are some more universal ones that almost all of us go through. 

There comes a point in our physical fitness journey where overcoming a plateau of weight loss or another benchmark is harder than we anticipated. Every romantic relationship eventually demands more of us than we thought it would. Our professional life usually challenges us in ways we would have never expected. Our walk as disciples of Jesus Christ always leads us to a cross heavier than we imagined we’d have to carry. 

In college I began speaking and leading things on campus, loving the fact that my gifts and talents were being utilized to build the Church. To my surprise, with great spiritual influence comes great responsibility. I wanted to speak and lead, but I did not want the weight of having to be an example to many. I know I’m not alone in that. There’s a reason why people over emphasize the word personal in our personal relationship with Jesus. We know, but choose to neglect, the fact that Jesus calls us all to Him to be loved, forgiven, formed, and sent out to build the flock. Being a Christian means being a leader. It means being a person of positive influence in the world. We often want to focus on the abundance we gain when we enter into a relationship with God, but would love to forget what we lose when we choose to be a soldier of Christ. 

You lose your right to harbor hate in your heart. You lose the right to be able to avoid doing the right thing because it makes you uncomfortable. You lose the freedom to not forgive. You lose the chances you once had to shirk the responsibility of making an impact on others. You lose the right to blissfully ignore the suffering and pain of those around you. You lose your right to selfishly control your time, your body, and your platforms. The moment you profess your faith and join the Church, you forfeit all of these things to God. You offer your whole self for His service. 

We are the Army of the Lord. A community of believers who are called to be unified as we fight to make disciples of all nations. An Army without standards is ineffective. An Army whose soldiers don’t hold each other accountable is also not much use. An Army whose soldiers run and hide at the first sign of inconvenience or fear will be of no use at all. 

It’s tempting to want Easter without Good Friday, but it’s time we revisit what it means to pick up our cross. We are in dire need of some death to self. One of my favorite Scripture passages is Matthew 5:14-16, “You are the light of the world.” What a powerful statement. 

It is clear in our world today that darkness is overwhelming people. People are cold, afraid, and in need of light. These are trying times we find ourselves in, but it’s no coincidence that we are here. We are here to console. We are here to give hope. We are here to listen. We are here to provide strength and prayers. We are here to remind people of the need for mercy and forgiveness. We are here to lead. 

I know. I know you might feel hopeless, so how can you give hope? You might be in deep pain, so how can you console? You might feel weak, broken, and unsure of yourself and your faith. You may question whether or not there is any good in the world, and if that good is even worth fighting for anymore. The temptation to quit and leave it all behind is real. However, remember that leaders aren’t needed except when life gets rough, they are needed especially when life gets rough. 

In the Army we had a philosophy: If you’re hungry, your soldiers are starving. If you’re tired, your soldiers are exhausted. If you’re cold, your soldiers are freezing. Military leaders are supposed to hold themselves to higher standards for physical fitness. They are also required to see the bigger picture and keep the unit focused on accomplishing the mission despite the circumstances. This outward focus allows leaders to not be as aware of their internal suffering. When you are planning, making decisions, and responsible for the outcomes, your ability to feel pity for self almost diminishes to nothing. Your ability to feel self-pity right now needs to be reduced to nothing, so that we can focus on improving the lives of others and leading more people to the Kingdom. 

We are immersed in a culture that focuses on caring for ourselves more than taking responsibility for the things, people, and tasks we’ve been entrusted with.I think you already hear often enough that it’s okay to give yourself breaks, take it easy, and “treat yo-self.”  I’m not here to tell you to take it easy. There will be time for that later. Right now, the world needs us to step up in ways many of us never have. 

How do military leaders maintain optimism and hope when situations are bleak? They dig deep within themselves and give whatever they have to the ones they love, the ones they lead. We must do the same, but with much more confidence. This confidence comes from knowing that we are not just reaching deep into the depth of our souls to give from our own human supply, we are reinforced by the love of Christ. We have graces sufficient for the battles that we must now fight. “My grace is sufficient for you” must ring constantly in our minds. Accept this truth and prepare to move forward.

We are the Church. We are disciples of Jesus. That is supposed to mean something. It’s supposed to impact the way that we live our lives at every moment along the journey from this temporal life into heaven. We are called to recognize and cooperate with God’s grace. God has given us many things we don’t deserve in this life. As I sit and reflect on the experiences I’ve had, the joy I’ve been given, and the mercy He has extended to me, I can’t help but be overwhelmed by gratitude. As Christians, gratitude should always be our launching pad. We should begin all our days, all our meals, and all our conversations from a place of thanksgiving. Doing so helps us put our present moment in the proper context of our life as a whole. Context and perspective are the guardrails of gratitude. They keep us from recklessly losing control of this dearly beloved virtue. 

In the midst of all of God’s gifts and the goodness of life, we still find ourselves immersed in a world full of injustice. As Christians, we know that we contribute to this injustice ourselves each time we fall into sin. Our awareness of our own never-ending brokenness gives us a much different perspective of our fallen world. We know that things will never be perfect on this side of heaven. We are confident that there will always be evil and hatred, likely in the form of racism, until the end of time. What’s crazy is that we are willing to give our lives trying to eradicate it despite knowing that it’s an impossible task – the remedy we pour onto the fire of hate flows through us from the ocean of God’s great love for us. 

One of the most challenging teachings of Jesus is how to handle injustice and hatred towards us. He says that we are blessed when we are persecuted for His sake, but what about when we are persecuted for the color of our skin? He instructs us to pray for our enemies and bless those who curse us. He tells us to turn the other cheek. But for how long? In what context is it okay to strike back? How do we balance the call to turn the other cheek with the strong desire for justice that we know will never come about from passivity? 

A question I’ve gotten many times in my life is this: How did you balance being a soldier who might have to kill people with the fifth commandment? My response always points to the Just War Theory. Jesus tells me to turn the other cheek when someone strikes my cheek. He doesn’t say that I ought to be equally passive if someone strikes your cheek. To not retaliate to someone who hits me might be a heroic display of virtue and self-control, but to not take action when I see someone hit another person, especially a more defenseless person, is cowardice. The same action in different contexts can swing the pendulum from virtue to vice. Jesus doesn’t want me to witness someone beating another person and just yell out some helpless encouragement like, “Turn the other cheek!” 

  “Defend the weak and the fatherless; uphold the cause of the poor and oppressed” Psalm 82:3

The Church used to lead the way in fulfilling the temporal and spiritual needs of the people. We used to be the place people would flock to for refuge and leadership. There was a time when we would prayerfully discern which way to go in the midst of the gray areas of life and then charge boldly forward in that direction. Now we seem to cower in the face of danger. We allow society to silence us in the face of confusion out of fear that we might offend someone with the truth. We are told our prayers are irrelevant and not needed here. Our outdated calls to virtue and holiness are of no use in this present day and age. So instead of changing the world, we are being changed by the world. Instead of discerning how we are being called to make a difference, we will just go about life as usual. 

Do you ever stop and wonder how we are able to be so blind to all the suffering taking place in the world? What causes you to willingly ignore the pain being experienced by the people around you? I can answer that. For me, sometimes it’s because I’m in such a dark place myself that I’m unable to be attentive to the needs of others. Only I can allow myself to get into such a mode where my own despair, caused by a separation from the love of God, can get me so self-focused. Sometimes, it’s even worse. Sometimes I’m blinded by the actual goodness of my life. Things are going so well that I don’t even want to take the time to dive into the suffering of others. It’s easy to want to bask in consolation and goodness, but there will be plenty of eternity for that in heaven. For now, we must get to work. 

People have been asking me lately, “How do you go about discussing such difficult topics? How can you have polite, calm conversations with people who disagree with you? How do we handle angry, hurt, and upset people who are full of emotions and ignoring logic and reason?”  My biggest question in response to all that is, why aren’t we already good at those things? We are called to be evangelists. Each one of us is called to be a disciple maker for Jesus. We may each have our niche target audience who we relate to most, but we are ultimately called to be all things to all people. I don’t get to say, ‘oh I can’t relate to this issue that’s disrupting societal peace and plunging people into a sea of hate and division, so I’m just going to sit this one out.’ No, it means that I must be willing to sacrifice my own personal desires for the sake of learning and understanding. When I am willing to listen, learn, and love, God can work miracles through me in the lives of other people. 

We are supposed to be masters of the gray areas because even when things are confusing, tense, and volatile, our mission doesn’t change. The world is experiencing a pandemic, what should we do? Make disciples of all nations. The country is erupting in protests against racism, what should we do? Make disciples of all nations. Your mission has not changed. You are called, better yet you are commanded, by the King of Kings to meet people where they are, help them remove obstacles in their mind, body, and/or soul, and lead them closer to Jesus. This is your life’s criteria for success: how well did you love other people? 

This love will take many forms. St. Paul tells us to weep with those who weep and to rejoice with those who rejoice (Romans 12:15). Have you spent this time mourning the loss and experiences of racism with those who it has cut so deep? We need to evaluate the way we approach people. We must always empathize first and teach second. It saddens me every time I hear someone immediately jump to abortion statistics in the black community as soon as racism and police brutality are mentioned. Do we not know by now that if we don’t take a moment to share in the suffering of someone’s heart, they will never grant us access to their ears? If you don’t lead with compassion when addressing victims of injustice or those who are outraged by it, you will never win people to your side. 

The opposite of compassion is to not take something personally when it doesn’t personally affect you. We are all the Body of Christ here on earth. The more unified we become as a Church, the more effective our work here will be. This is a time for us to evaluate. We need to evaluate our own hearts, minds, and souls. How often do stereotypes and prejudices affect the way you treat other people? They could be race related, but you might also hold disdain towards others based on their disabilities, sexual orientation, or social status. We all make judgments about each other that we ought not make. Take time today to reflect on what group of people makes you most uncomfortable and why. Face some of the ugliness that resides within you and ask the Lord to eradicate it from your life. 

We also need to evaluate our social systems. There is a lot of change that must take place within this country and although it must start within our own hearts, it must not end there. The world needs us to embrace the cross. For some, it is embracing a personal cross that has been weighed down by years of facing racism, discrimination, and hatred based on the color of their skin. For others, it’s time to play the role of St. Simon of Cyrene, who heroically helped Jesus endure his cross and passion. Some of us have chosen to run like St. Peter, whose intercession we ought to pray for right now. Roman Brandstaetter, a 20th-century Polish poet, wrote a beautiful prayer which ought to be prayed from every church across the country:

Peter, patron of those who flee, 

Patron of those who hide.

Patron of those feigning indifference, 

Patron of those who close their eyes,

Patron of those who move away from the fire,

Pray for our cowardice.

We are all cowards in our own unique way. We each, just like St. Peter, deny Christ through failing to love Him directly or by failing to love our neighbor. Let us pray today for the courage that it takes for us to be in the world, to change the world, and to avoid being changed by the world. Jesus said He would be sending us out as sheep among wolves. He instructed us to be as wise as serpents and innocent as doves (Matthew 10:16). The combination of the two is necessary if we are going to be lights in the world – lights that won’t be extinguished by the hate and evil that surround us.

I have found that most people today are living on one end of two extremes. You have those in the Church who pride themselves on how “in the world” they are. These are those who often surround themselves with people who don’t know Jesus or the Gospel. They are working, living, eating, and all-around immersed in the secular world. However, for many of these people, there is a lack of a serious pursuit of holiness. They inadvertently and incorrectly see themselves as the exception to the rule. They don’t need to attend church all the time because they are weary of becoming like those “church people” who isolate themselves from the ones who are truly lost. In an effort to avoid abandoning or offending the world, they become so much like it that they are almost indistinguishable from someone who practices no faith at all. 

On the other hand, you have those who ardently pursue holiness. They have had radical conversions and clearly live a life that is centered around Jesus. However, oftentimes, these people have an unwillingness to leave what I call the “Christian bubble.” They are very content amongst the 99 and, whether they recognize it or not, are unwilling to be sent out to find the 1 who may be truly lost. They are safe and satisfied surrounding themselves with those who see the world almost precisely the way they do. No difference of opinion, no unsettling behaviors, and no real challenging opportunities for evangelization ever really confront them. They are enamored with images of the lamb of God, but may find the Lion of Judah to be a bit off-putting. In an effort to avoid becoming worldly, they become so isolated from the people who need the joy, knowledge, and wisdom they possess that they are no longer a threat to Satan and his work on earth. 

As usual, the virtue here is somewhere in between. We are all called to radically pursue holiness and place our faith at the very center of our lives. We are called to love sacrificially and make disciples of all nations, but we cannot do that if we are not allowing God to pour his love and grace into our hearts each day. Most of us are also called to be in the world as well. This means we don’t just minister to those who we know are with us already, but we have to be willing to be sent out into the streets, out to the front lines of this great work. It’s easy to admire Mother Teresa for the work she’s done but want to desperately avoid any type of similar mission in our own lives. 

Mother Teresa once said, “Stay where you are. Find your own Calcutta. Find the sick, the suffering, and the lonely, right where you are — in your own homes and in your own families, in homes and in your workplaces and in your schools. You can find Calcutta all over the world, if you have eyes to see. Everywhere, wherever you go, you find people who are unwanted, unloved, uncared for, just rejected by society — completely forgotten, completely left alone.”

Where is your Calcutta? Are you passing by suffering each day like the priest and the Levite in the story of the Good Samaritan? Are you, like St. Peter, denying Jesus by refusing to live your faith boldly or neglecting to love your neighbor? Will you, like St. Simon of Cyrene, embrace the cross being endured by so many victims of racism and hatred across the country right now? 

Take time today to pray about what God is calling you to do in order to spread faith, hope, and love in the world. Your prayers are not irrelevant now and they never will be. Do not accept the message of despair that society is currently forcing upon you. I know you may be tired, hurting, and confused, but God does not want to leave you in that place. He is eagerly waiting to lead you out of your misery so that He can use you as powerful force for good. The Lord is asking, whom shall I send? Who will go for us? (Isaiah 6:8) Who will lead my people? Have the courage to rise up from your comfort and complacency, and boldly proclaim back to Him who loves you, 

Here I am, Lord. 

Send me.

“At the sight of the crowds, his heart was moved with pity for them because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, ‘The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field” (Matthew 9:36-38).

Nathan Crankfield is a convert to the Catholic faith. He is a proud graduate of Bishop McDevitt High School, Mount St. Mary's University, and US Army Ranger School. After serving four years of active duty in the US Army, he joined the staff at Dynamic Catholic as a parish consultant.