December 4 – “New friends”

We attended a pastor/staff Christmas party for the Galveston Baptist Association the other night.  It is really hard for me to be very involved in the workings of the group day to day, with stuff at the church and the fire stations – not to mention family – generally taking priority.  I do try to touch base every now and then, though, and it worked out this time where we had a free evening that coincided with the gathering.

As is our custom when we attend a function like this, we sat at a table by ourselves near the back.  We only knew a few of the pastors there.  But soon we were joined at our table by a contingent of three from Galveston’s Chinese Baptist Church.  The five of us worked together during the game.  Well, as it turned out Chris and I had great fun helping them understand the game – deciphering adages like “Don’t cry over spilled milk” out of weird combinations of letters and numbers.  That’s a really hard thing to do when you don’t know the regular language that well, much less the sociological slang.  They had a great attitude, though, and really seemed to appreciate our attempts at explanations, whether they fully understood them or not. 

We did have one very strange thing happen at the table, though.  An African-American guy (important to know later) sat down with us at one point to chat.  Now first, he wouldn’t shake hands with anybody.  He said that it was flu season and he didn’t want to spread any germs around or catch anything.  Odd, but one of our table mates responded, “Thank you for being considerate toward us.”  Beautiful answer to an uncomfortable situation.  Next, in an effort to make conversation, he asked our table mates if they were Chinese or Vietnamese.  Now that question could be construed as awkward at best.  Our new friends handled it with great class.  Then he asked if they spoke Chinese at their church, because if they did he couldn’t come because he can’t speak Chinese.  They didn’t respond to that one.  Just looked at each other and at us with quizzical expressions.  His comment about the game we were playing was most odd.  He indicated that the phrases were “THEIR” slang (nodding at Chris and me), so he couldn’t understand it.  Finally he said, “They used to call us African-American, but now we’re just blacks.”  Hmm.  For one thing, we had just met him, so I know for a fact I have never called him either of those things.  And besides, both terms are inherently divisive.  Sigh.  I suppose racism works both ways.  Again our tablemates looked at us with questioning eyes.  I’m pretty sure our eyes reflected the questions we had as well.  I can only surmise that the guy had been hurt at some point in his past.  I sincerely hope he has begun to experience the healing and love of Jesus through it all, though.

Ah, well.  At least we made some new friends and came home with a box of Snickers bars from the white elephant game.  

Isaiah 26:9 says, “My soul yearns for you in the night; in the morning my spirit longs for you.  When your judgments come upon the earth, the people of the world learn righteousness.”

Father, please continue your work in the heart of that guy who came by our table.  And bless our sweet tablemates with the joy of Christmas.  Amen.