The Skyliner

Issue date: 3/29/06 Section: Opinion

Bryant

Kayla Bryant
Online Editor


For the most part, I have enjoyed growing up in the south. I like my share of sweet tea and fried chicken. I'll eat grits at any time of the day and I like that I can wave to a stranger and, more than not, that stranger will wave back. I honestly enjoy this kind of life for the most part, but there is one sore of the south that I absolutely detest.

The Confederate flag can be seen flying from the backs of trucks, covered in gloss on a belt buckle and printed on white cotton T-shirts everywhere, and I don't like it.

My boyfriend and I were going into the movies Saturday afternoon when a big truck with an American flag and a Confederate flag hooked to the bed of the truck passed. We both made an off-hand comment about it, and I remember my first thought was "rednecks." My thoughts then progressed into my dislike for the Confederate flag and for those who are so proud to flaunt it. I hate to admit that I even had the thought of that type of people being beneath me in society.

We were pulling into my church parking lot Sunday morning when we saw the same truck parked on the back row. Before I was aware of the words coming out, I had said something along the lines of, "Oh, great. They go to my church."

I never found out who drove the truck. I didn't need to. My attitude had already set the way I would have treated them. I had judged the truck driver because of the truck and what was on it.

I don't want to turn this column into a rant on my dislike for the Confederate flag, because that really isn't what this is all about. The point is that because there was this person that supported something I didn't, I immediately jumped to conclusions about this person.

Isn't it funny how Christians struggle with issues like this one? We claim to be welcoming and caring, but for the most part, we are manipulative and judgmental.

My father was applying for a youth minister position at a small church a few years ago. He was being interviewed and questioned by some of the church board members, and one of the members asked him what he would do with a teenager that came into the church with earrings or tattoos or long hair. My father said that he would welcome the teenager into the church. That wasn't the answer the board members were looking for because they didn't want that type of image for their church.

When I recalled this story, I felt sick to my stomach because I hadn't wanted the owner of the Confederate flag flying truck to represent the image for my church. I want my church to be seen as an open one, welcoming anyone, but as soon as I saw something I didn't like and agree with, I changed my mind.

Christians can't keep claiming to be something they aren't. We can't demand that we are recognized as open, welcoming individuals and then change our opinions when the time best suits us. We need to start standing behind our decisions and our claims, no matter how many Confederate flags, tattoos or piercings a person has.

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