Today, January 20, as I watch the inauguration of President Barack Obama, I recall the anecdote about the Hispanic kid returning from his first-ever ball game to proudly report, “Mama. They were singing about me at the game. They were singing about me!”
When questioned what he meant, the youngster replied, “The whole crowd stood up and sang, ‘José, can you see?’"
Improbable that “Oh, say can you see?” (the introductory phrase of the U.S. national anthem) could refer to a youngster dreaming of greatness? Not anymore!
Today, my country moved into a new era with an African American inaugurated into the most powerful office on earth. Our recent elections have moved us to a post-racial era where skin color is not the first criterion for evaluating a person’s potential.
Does this mean we have resolved all problems? Does one election erase the scars of racism past? Have we advanced to the point that no individual will ever be discriminated against again? Have hatred, suspicion, skepticism, and racism been permanently eradicated? Of course not!
Discrimination and evil will always rule in the hearts of wicked people like the hate-filled behavior of students at a high school who, upon witnessing President Obama’s oath of office, stood and shouted racial epithets at fellow students.
Shame! And somewhere it will happen again. Neither America nor the wider world has resolved all the challenges and sinfulness of racism just because one black man has become president. But something has happened.
What? Simply this: Barack Obama, son of a Kenyan father and an American mother is the president of the United States.
José, can you see? This door has been opened for you too! The slogan about American society’s “melting pot” has been stirred into a new stew.
José, can you see? If an African American can become president, so could a Hispanic.
Josefina, can you see? If a Hispanic could become president, so could a woman.
Jae-Hwa, can you see? If a Hispanic woman could become president, so could a Korean American.
José, can you see? Doors have been opened that never again can be shut.
For more than 16 years, I have watched a young black child develop into an outstanding, capable man. Back when I first met three-year-old Tony, no one would have ever told him, “You can grow up to be president of the United States.”
Sure, we might have chanted the mantra, but we would not have really believed the slogan that any kid could become president. Even worse, Tony would not have believed it!
But Tony has grown up. Today he is a scholarship student on his way to becoming a RN/pharmacist. And America has grown up. Because of today’s inauguration, no one can ever say, “Tony, you could not become president.”
José, can you see?
Society has kicked down that barrier by this peaceful transition from one elected president to the next. I exalt in the joy and release of Aretha Franklin singing, “My country ’tis of thee, sweet land of liberty.” I am enthralled with the drama of a black family moving into the White House.
Despite the reality that sixty years ago President Obama’s father could not have been served lunch at a restaurant in the segregated District of Columbia, today’s pomp and circumstance, ruffles and flourishes, and “Hail to the Chief” stand in stark comparison to the reminder that our First Lady’s slave ancestors built the monumental structures of America’s beautiful capitol, expecting nothing more for the future than that they might be hired to clean and maintain those same buildings. But with one oath of office—even one bungled by the chief justice of the Supreme Court—the country has changed.
José, can you see?
Oh church, can you see?
Have we slumbered along as the world awakens to a new state of affairs? How should we believers respond to this new reality?
Why, all too often, must the church learn—or fail to learn—from society rather than the sacred teaching the secular? Do we believers have something to tell the world on the issue of post-racial cooperation?
When the nation has chosen to move beyond racial profiling in electing our most powerful leaders, why do Christians remain segregated? In North America, the divine worship service remains the most self-segregated hour of the week. African Americans come together to stand apart. White flight breeds exclusivity until there is nowhere else to flee. Hispanics, Asians, and other ethnic groups conclave under the guise of “language and heritage,” while their children reject their lingual heritage and, if they go to church at all, make certain that English is the language of fellowship and proclamation. Even where preservation of cultural heritage is important, the incipient racism of assuming we cannot all get along reproaches the gospel.
Remember Galatians’ declaration of interdependence! “In Christ, there is neither Jew nor Gentile; in Christ there is neither bond nor free; in Christ there is neither male nor female, for we are all one in Christ.” Does Jesus want His followers to be less faithful than society in matters of distinction, division, and discrimination? Of course, this is not God’s will any more than God wills for the church to remain structured for racial separation.
God’s plan makes all nations one people.
God’s plan welcomes all tribes into His house of prayer.
God’s plan demonstrates that His church can answer Jesus’ prayer “that they all might be one.”
José, can you see?
