Bad Guys Too

We were approaching the twenty minute mark.  A show down of sorts.  His lanky third grade self twisted up in the corner, head buried in his folded forearms in a potent blend of anger and shame. 

"Can we talk about what happened now?"

I had been checking in every five minutes or so to see if he was ready to talk about the behavior that landed him in time out in the first place.

He didn't move a muscle, but a faint and muffled grumble escaped from the tangle of arms and legs and face.
"It's not fair.  I didn't do nothin'!   He was messin' with me first!"

I sank down to my knees, so we could  talk eye-to-elbow (and maybe, just maybe, he would uncross his arms eventually). 

"Well, he may need to apologize too, it's true, but you have a responsibility as well."

His arms uncrossed, and a fiery gaze emerged from the cavern of gangly limbs. 

"This is bigger than just 'he was messin' with me'.  God wants us to love other people the way we want to be loved.  The way you act helps people see how much God loves them.  This is why it's so important to be kind to others...even when they're messing with you."

The boy balked. 
"God doesn't love the bad guys."


Now it was my turn to sit there dumbfounded.

My mind raced and my heart sank simultaneously.


The implications haunted me, are still haunting me weeks later.  As a resident in the state that incarcerates more African-American men than any other, the idea that this young, African-American boy has picked up the message that "God doesn't love the bad guys" just devastates me.

Because our culture here in Wisconsin, the toxic lies of our ignorance and prejudice that shape our reality, that have sent over half of the African-American men in my city to prison, would say to this boy "you are a bad guy".


Heart breaking and mind racing, I finally spoke, "No, that's not true.  God loves everyone."

He looked at me in utter disbelief.

"God loves everyone," I repeated, "Even the bad guys.  Sometimes the things that people do make God sad or mad, but God never stops loving us."

The boy's expression softened.

"Really?"

There was hope in his eyes.

I thought about all the times I had lied or  flown off the handle in anger, how I had insulted others and judged, all those moments in which I had been the "bad guy."  Because we have all gone astray.  We all contribute to the brokenness that exists in the world.  Like a parasite siphoning the life out of our souls, we're born broken.

But we are also born loved.   

"Yes, really.  God loves the bad guys too."