Ray Ellis's Blog, page 16

For what are you willing to die?

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. once stated that any man who does not have something for which he is willing to die is not fit to live. On face value it comes across as a rather provocative statement, but on closer observation, it is perhaps more so.  Think about it.
Ask yourself, for what are you willing to die? Paul, in his letter to the Christians in Rome, said “…scarcely for a righteous man will one die: peradventure for a good man some would even dare to die.”  We couple that with the example of the Japanese fighter pilots that committed themselves to death in the attack on Pearl Harbor; and even the contemporary example of the jihadist that crashed planes on 9-11 and explode bombs in public markets around the world.
However, the question remains, For what are you willing to die? 
As a writer, I explore many concepts and ideas as a regular course of thinking, but when pressed to ask myself what reaches that highest point of self-sacrifice, I too am brought up short and forced to examine what I hold most sacred. Of course, I say like most of my readers, I would die for my wife and children, my mother and siblings, but for the most part these are unasked…or at least un-required offerings. What becomes a more pertinent question, and what I believe to be at the core of Dr. King’s question, rather is, For what am I willing to live? 
What is it that gives your life purpose and cause? What identifies you and will long after you have passed off the scene call to remembrance that you were even here? So my challenge to you is not that you die valiantly, but rather that you live on purpose and with cause. Live each day in such a way that those around you are made better, and in spite of hard times experienced, joy will be the lingering fragrance of your time shared. 
For what do you have to live? Think about it.

A Break in the Action

A Break in the ActionAssome of you may know, if you have seen my Face Book status, I recently suffered a death in my family and have been out of the loop for a while. By the grace of God, I am finding my way back and hopefully to a better place.  
Now, when I say a better place, I don’t want you to think that I mean my just not being sad or my being over the hurt…some of these feelings will be with me until I see Jesus face to face. Rather what I’m referring to is my moving onto a better place spiritually . 
Allaround us God is speaking. Through the very act of creation, sunrise and sunset, new growth and the anticipated harvest; and yes even in the death of my beloved sister. In this, I see His hand moving and can hear the promise of the resurrection.  
Yes, my sister has left me, but not alone. I have as it were the fragrance of her life and with it, the hope of an eternity shared together in the presence of our Lord. So what we have now is not so much as a goodbye as much as just a simple break in the action. I will see her again… Think about it.

Out of the Two comes One: Part Twelve

Sometimes my two worlds collide. Sometimes they explode into and upon one another. And sometimes they overlap to the point of blurring. There are times when, at the very last minute, just before you’re ready to go 10-42—end of shift—something will happen and the entire rest of your day is shot. 
The same is true in the ministry. There are times when you are just settling in to enjoy the Itis when we stop and realize the reasons for which we endure the trials of life that really give us, or reveal to us, the value of the time we have spent. When I am called upon to work late or deal with a particularly trying event, a family or individual in crisis, it is then that I see what value I can possibly be to that situation that adds life to me. When I can bring a peaceful resolution to a family or direct a soul to those peaceful green pastures that David wrote about in Psalm 23, then all the trouble seems very much worth it. 
Wecannot avoid the troubles and trials of life, but we do get to decide if we will be made by them or if they will destroy us. In the end, when my two worlds collide, I am left with the choice of whether I will be the cop who’s a preacher or a preacher that’s a cop. Either way, the choice is mine and I choose life. Think about it….Just saying.  

Out of the Two comes One: Part Eleven

Toomany times I have found myself in situations where I wish I had been better: a better cop, a better minister, a better husband and father, a better man. When I look at the volume of the penal code, all the laws that are used to govern this great state –and I only deal with the criminal code, I am humbled by the great amount of information that there is to know…let alone do.
ThenI consider the Bible, God’s penal code, and I see in its 66 books all that make up the fullness of its counsel, and again, I realize it is a great volume of information to try to master.  As I’m working the streets as a patrolman, or even when I prepared cases as an investigator, I would think of all the possible lines of attack or of defense, depending on my starting position.  I stop and just think about the expectations of those depending on me to do my job correctly so that they can then do theirs. 
Nowconsider this as a minster: I have not only the burden of knowing what the Bible teaches, but the obligation to live it in real time for all those around me to see. They watch and see where I step and, if I do my job correctly, then they, too, can know where it is safe to stand. When I’m working as a patrolman, the citizens also watch me, hopingFor this reason, every time I strap on to ride out on patrol, or steal away in quiet prayer and Bible study, I am pleased to be that guy who gets to stand in the gap for the rest. It really is a great honor and in its own way a big deal. Think about it….Just saying.

Out of the Two comes One: Part Ten

There are many situations that begin as though it were just another day.  But like it often is for me as a police officer who is also an active Christian, the true battle was happening beneath my level of immediate awareness. I once had a neighbor, to which I’d been witnessing to about the Lord, and one day at the end of a very long shift, I looked up to see him standing against the wall. I hope you never experience this, but believe me when I say, it is a very bad feeling to look up and see a person that you’ve entertained in your home and been entertained in his, handcuffed and lined up on the wall of the recently arrested.  
Thisimage brought to my mind the day when all the unsaved would be found standing before the Great White Throne, and I wondered how many people I knew who would be in that fateful crowd.  Too many times, as I execute my duties on the streets, meeting with several people from all different levels of our society, the image comes back to me again. 
WhenI confront a violator, whether it be for a mere infraction or a felony offense, it always amazes me that some are defiant up to the end, while others admit their fault and are really sorry. Now, I’m not the county magistrate, and I am truly not God, but I can see how much better it is when we freely admit our guilt and seek forgiveness rather than arguing for why we should not be held accountable for our violations. Remember the real-time life lesson I referred to earlier? Well, think about it. If we can be found guilty and condemned for breaking the mere laws of man, how great an offense it will be when we, if we are unrepentant, have to stand before God. Remember, I’m not the judge and I’m not God. I’m just a cop who is also a Christian looking forward to the end of shift. Think about it….Just saying.

Out of the Two comes One . Part Nine:

I guess the only struggle—the one worth actually fighting about is the one we most often overlook: the human struggle. I saw it first while growing up in the dusty red dirt streets of my Selma, Alabama hometown, but in child-like innocence failed to recognize it as such. I saw it again when I joined the U.S. Marines, but thought it was just boys being boys .  Then in becoming a peace officer, I saw this struggle in a whole new light.
Onbecoming a police officer, if you will remember my mentioning in an earlier post, one of the first things you experience is the heavy badge. You get this belief that you’re great—that you’re awesome. Not unlike the young Marine who believes he can take on the entire U.S. Army and Navy alone, with one arm tied behind his back just to make the fight fair. Well in transitioning into that world of good guys verses bad guys , cops verses robbers, I saw this human struggle again. This time in the faces of the wives, husbands, children, mothers and fathers who were left to try to put life into some form of normal once their loved one had decided to cross that line .
Iwatched as young brides kissed dirty glass windows, because the lips of the person they loved were on the other side. Women exposing themselves to hands that would never caress them, and children crying for a daddy they might never know .  This was the same struggle seen in the faces of the empty-eyed deputies who slept in the bunkroom because he or she could not face going home to the person they vowed to love forever. Or hearing the latest gossip of two married officers caught having sex in the parking lot just outside the HQ. 
This…is the human struggle.
Mypoint—it wasn’t until truly seeing“people” in the light, or rather the darkness of their fallen condition, consumed and blinded by sin and its effects, was I really able to see myself in the proper perspective. For after all, I too am human and havemy part in the human struggle. Think about it….Just saying.

Out of the Two comes One: Part Eight

As a peace officer, as part of the job, I am constantly asked to make moral decisions, decisions where my judgment is the sole basis on what action I should or should not take in the query of taking a human life. 
For a basis of discussion, on a routine traffic stop, - and there is no such thing as routine- do I issue a citation or do I give a warning? Even in the matter of a misdemeanor arrest, do I take my arrestee to jail or do I issue a summons and release them in the trust that they will show up for court?  These are all to some degree a moral question, what is right? What is best?
A misdemeanor is a secondary level offense where the punishment is limited to a maximum of one year in county jail and up to $1,Inmy 25 plus years of service, I have never had to shoot anyone in the line of duty---but I have come very close and been close to being shot as well. I was never hit and the suspects were taken into custody.  But, with that said, to shoot or not to shoot is a question I had to answer over two decades ago. This, like any other, is just one of many moral decisions I have to make on a daily basis. If you think about it, it is not too unlike what each of you are called everyday to do: to decide the right or the wrong of any given matter. Think about it….Just saying.

Out of the Two comes One

After a short detour to the question of wisdom, I thought we'd return to the exploration of my two worlds the pulpit and the pavement; the life of a cop that's a preacher.  Part Seven:
There was an occasion when a gentleman had been booked in for a rather heinous crime involving the rape and torture of a child. This man was demon possessed. He would often sit in his cell and have conversations with his unseen host. Now, I know there is such a thing as being mentally ill, but a person who is truly enduring a psychotic episode does, not respond to the verbal command to stop.  Verbal commands have little effect in derailing either auditory or visual hallucinations. 
This particular inmate was self-destructive and violent. He was known to cut himself and use his own blood to paint his cell and write inscriptions on the walls. On this particular day in question, he had taken his reinforced plastic lunch tray and snapped it into several pieces—pieces that could be used as a weapon. It was my job to escort the doctor into the cell in order to administer his medication…i.e., something that would make him sleep.
Because it was my job and pleasure to be the one wearing the badge, I entered the cell approximately three minutes before the doctor. When I entered, this man was growling and cutting himself with a shared from the tray. I stood a safe distance away for him, which was only about five feet in this small cell, and addressed him. I began by saying, “I know you know who I am, and I know you know who Jesus is.” Then I told him that because he knew who Jesus was, I knew he knew he could not touch me. I then told him that he was bound by the power and authority of the name of Jesus, and that he was not allowed to speak or interact as long as the doctor was in the cell…that I only wanted to hear from and speak to the real person whose body it was. 
He immediately sat and the growling stopped. He then looked at me with the most pitiful eyes I’d ever seen. Just about that time, the doc walked in and did his routine. On the way out he thanked me for my ability to work with the mentally ill.  I laughed and told him the same story I just told you.  He nodded, giggled, and walked away shaking his head. 
I turned and looked back up at the cell I had just secured behind the doc and myself to see that same inmate raging at an unseen guest, cursing at the world. Of course a few minutes later, he was sound asleep, curled in a ball on the floor. But the point of the story is yes…oh yes, the spiritual is very real ….Just saying.

It’s a Question of Wisdom: Part Three

Now comes the question of the relationship between pain and wisdom. Consider the perspective that they are linked, two sides of the same coin. Remember how I said wisdom is acquired over time, one day at a time, and one experience at a time. And due to the pleasure-seeking bend of our natures, suffering is one of the only things that cause us to draw back and contemplate our choices.
Now, for argument sakes, let’s not confuse suffering with pain. Suffering can come in many forms: loss, being overlooked for promotion, realizing you have to save before you make a certain purchase…etc. These forms of suffering are as valuable to the development of the character of the man as are the weights and the cardio training is to the Olympian.   But while they represent suffering, they may not truly be pain.
The suffering or pain experienced, if surrendered to the knowledge and wisdom of God, will produce wisdom in the person. The key to this transition is to not confuse the acquisition of information with wisdom. Wisdom, therefore, is not just gathering information and knowledge; it is not even using that information in a productive manner; wisdom ~true wisdom~ is then defined as the proper submission and use of information and knowledge to the will of God.  Think about it.

It’s a Question of Wisdom: Part Two

One of the wisest people I’ve ever known was my great-grandmother, Viola K. Johnson.  She couldn’t read or write, never used a telephone, or drove a car; and I have no memories of her with anything other than silver hair. But Grand-mama was wise. She understood people and the roles they played in the schemes of life. She understood power and the perception of power and the value of hard honest work.

I remember one day in particular when this wisdom rose to the surface; remember what I said about integrating knowledge/information into the life at just that right time. Well here’s an example of one such event. As you know, I was raised in the South in the 60’s. My hometown was a hotbed for of the Civil Rights movement where Klan marches were not uncommon.  On one muggy summer afternoon, this white man was lost in our neighborhood and being a child I was somewhat fascinated that a white man would be in our part of town…that usually just didn’t happen.

On this particular day, I walked out to the man’s car to say hi and to introduce myself as a child of four or five might. This man, who I later came to understand acted out of fear, cursed me and call me a nigger among several other derogatory epitaphs. This made me angry to the point of hot tears streaking my dusty face.  My great-grandmother, who had watched the scene from her rocking chair just inside the front door, called me in and pulled me up on her lap.  After making sure I was comfortable, she began to rock and hum her favorite song, Precious Lord . 

She was waiting for the proper timing.
When a few minutes had passed, she asked me about the experience. I sat up, and looked at her wrinkled face and said, “Mamma white folks are evil.”
She smiled and pulled me back against her bosom and said in response, “No baby, that white man was evil. He was just scared and acted out of his fear.” She went on to tell me, “In your life you will meet some good white folk and some bad white folk, some good black folk and bad black folk.” Then she looked at me and said, “Baby, people’s people. Everywhere you go people’s people.”  Now that was wisdom.