February is Black History Month, a month dedicated to celebrate and educate the nation about the beauty, splendor, history of black people in America. A month that includes a nation-wide remembrances of Martin Luther King, Jr., Frederick Douglas, Rosa Parks, and George Washington Carver. February is also host to the biggest football game of the year — The Super Bowl.
This makes the news coming out of the NFL last week all the more startling. At the beginning of Black History Month, accusations of racism in the NFL came from own of its own. Former Miami Dolphins coach Brian Flores sued the NFL, claiming systemic racial discriminations in its coaching hiring.
Flores’s claims were sweeping and he details several times he believed that black candidates were interviewed for positions to simply fulfill the letter of the law. Will his lawsuit hold water in court? I haven’t a clue. Do I think there is probably some racism going on in the NFL? Of course. Do I think significant changes can and should be made? Yes. I would probably say this for any organization.
But here’s what “got me” about this headline that is still — a week later and days leading up to the Super Bowl — being discussed: from a casual viewer of NFL games (and an arm chair quarterback if there ever was one) perspective, the NFL has been trying to deal with racism. With all the horrific racist headlines in our country in recent years — it appeared (from someone watching on television) that the NFL was at least trying to deal with racism. Helmet symbols. Words on jerseys. Banners on and around the field. Declarations on warm-up clothing. Slogans in commercials. All calling for unity. For equality. For an end to the sin that is racism. The cynic might argue that all the anti-racism pageantry the NFL has deployed has merely been a PR stunt, a way to hide its problems by way of public gestures. But there’s more anti-racism messaging in the NFL than there is in Trader Joe’s, Target, Bed Bath and Beyond.
That’s what “got me.” After seeing the phrases and words in and on all these things for the past several years, news of the lawsuit was striking. All the efforts, messaging, and PR, only to have a 60-page document from one of its coaches claiming that it didn’t work.
You can’t put fresh paint on a lemon and expect the vehicle to be new and improved. The NFL has been trying to “dress up” the racism problem by putting slogans on jerseys, helmets, end zones, and commercials. That doesn’t end racism. It’s just painting a useless car. But what can can make a dent in alleviating inequality is a new heart. A heart moved to compassion — beyond defensive self-preservation and prejudice. A heart that doesn’t go with the status quo or believe that someone else will fix the problem. The kind of heart that has been revolutionized by the grace that is the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
Fresh paint cannot revolutionize a car. The car itself must be transform into a totally different machine, from the inside out. Putting #endracism on the back of a football jersey will not #endracism. Brian Flores can testify to that. And so can we. It is easy for to point fingers at the NFL with all the self-righteousness we can muster, declaring from afar how terrible the problem is. It is easy for me to wag my finger at how futile it is to put slogans on the field. But it’s another thing altogether to examine oneself. Because if we are honest; like really honest — we’d much rather adopt a new slogan than risk anything as terrifying as change.
Instead of a renewal and transformation of the heart, I try to put paint on my own ugly “lemon.” I’ll fast from social media for a season and assume my sinful tendencies will go away. I’ll read an extra chapter in the Bible today in the hopes that it will abolish my outrage from yesterday. I’ll try to implement positive speech into my conversations and vocabulary and hope it will turn me into a new, positive person. I’ll go on an overseas mission trip and appear to be burdened for the unreached. I’ll carry my Bible with me everywhere I go so I will be known as a “Bible-person.” We can put a slogan on a jersey or make a lemon look like a new corvette, but inwardly we’ll still be whitewashed tombs. Some of these practices, to be sure, have their place. But they cannot change a heart. They cannot transform. They cannot make me a new person.
The NFL doesn’t need more slogans on jerseys. And I certainly don’t need any more paint. That’s exhausting. We need a new heart. We need God. Though I cannot say for certain, it appears the NFL’s commissioner (Roger Goodell) is looking for more and shinier cloth for the backs of jerseys. He’s trying to restore the NFL’s public relation. Nothing to see here; everything’s fine. Even with a lawsuit filed against the NFL, only two of the nine coaches hired this year were minorities. More paint. Same lemon.
None of this is to say slogans don’t matter. They do. And it also isn’t to say that the conversations don’t need to be happening. They must. Light must be shed where there is darkness. But more cloth on jerseys and fresh paint on a lemon will not cure the problem. Only a new heart can begin to bring about real change. It’s true for the NFL and its racism problem. It’s true for me and my sin.
Putting a band-aid on a mortal wound won’t make it go away. It may cover what’s really there for a while — but what’s really there will eventually emerge. As Jesus said, It’s not what goes into a person that makes them unclean. It’s what comes out of the heart. Let’s cry out to Him to transform our “lemon-ness.” We need Someone outside of us to do for us what we cannot do for ourselves.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go to the store and get snacks for the Super Bowl. I hope my lemon of a car can get me there.
