4 min read

Black Jack Mattered

It's right there! It marks the site on a prominent corner one city block from where uncounted tall ships disgorged their sickened human cargo at the Port of Mobile. The simple historical plaque confesses America's most grievous crime. In Fredericksburg, Virginia, the grisly evidence has been moved off its original street corner to a museum. One sight of the enduring auction block, nags at us like self-interrogation. Is our national heart still stone cold? Is it still all and only the fault of black families that they're split-up so their sons grow up fatherless? Must we not admit that automatic prison and sometimes even unjust death force a sentence upon two generations of black males at a time? How do we eliminate this national prejudice?

The inhumanity of the American slave trade is a 246 year atrocity stretching from the first 20 Africans brought to the Jamestown, Virginia colony in 1619 until the conclusion of the Civil War in 1865. In 1850, the average price per slave adjusted for current dollars was $40,000. But, the obscenity of owning a human being like a farm animal is not lessened by the high price only the very rich could pay.

Last week, plate glass windows in high end stores along Chicago's Magnificent Mile were shattered by hundreds of looters who seriously embarrassed their Great Grand-fathers and Great Grandmothers. They were very spiritual forebears! They gave us a different heritage than this. Today, even conservative ministers lead protesters in shouting, "No justice, no peace!" Great Granddaddy's horrified lips would quiver, "Wha' you a sayin'? Hurtin' somesbody back doesn't take the hurt away!" A thousand Hollywood movies are produced on the wicked thesis that being wronged gives license to do wrong. The slaves didn't sing, "Steal the Gucci! Steal the Armani!" They sang, "Steal away to Jesus." They sought equality but were already their owner's superiors. They left a heritage of spiritual strength not vengeful entitlement. How do we eliminate this national prejudice?

White people must try. Black people must try. The vast multi-colored population of America must try. We must try hard! But, our trying won't work because we're all modern slaves to an ancient slave-driver! "Jesus said, 'I tell you most solemnly that anyone who chooses a life of sin is trapped in a dead-end life and is, in fact, a slave.'" (John 8:34, Message) Every Church I've pastored over a 42-year ministry has heard of the only freedom stronger than addiction, family tradition, and racism as told in the story of Black Jack.

Long strands of Spanish Moss hung from the live oaks lining Government Street. Surreys lightly moved the Old South's aristocracy through the heavy wagons soon to lumber homeward under the burden of newly-purchased slaves. Beneath his matching broad-brimmed hat, a white-suited cotton magnate stroked his goatee while choosing a shaded auction position. A plantationer all the way from Natchez touched the brim of his imported top hat as petti-coated sisters stepped down from their carriage.

More wagon loads from the wharves meant a big auction day. Then, the block was filled with several slave families and the rat-a-tat rhythm of the auctioneer began. Frequently, mournful wailing erupted as children were sold separately from their mothers. Salesmen touted muscled torsos and mother-and-child specials. Managers examined teeth and looked for injuries.

Finally, the auction's prize was forced up onto the block with

much resistance. Black Jack was the finest physical specimen of the day. But, from his first step leading up onto the block, with words he'd only learned minutes before, Jack defied any plantation owner to buy him. "I won't work!" With full force his diaphragm split the air with Black Jack's shriek! "I won't work! I won't work!" The spectacle withered the petti-coated sisters! He would make life for them completely unmanageable. The owner from Natchez wanted crop production not slave war! But, the bids were rising for the cut and rippling physique which Black Jack posssessed if he could only be broken. The auctioneer paused to give Black Jack's age, weight, and country of origin. Then another round of bids elevated the price competition and increased Jack's vehement rebellion. "I won't work! I won't work!" At last, the auctioneer elongated his voice, then cracked the wooden gavel with his exclamation, "Sold!!!"

Every mile en route to the plantation was a sulking stewing strategizing mile of imagining a hopeless future. When they arrived, each slave was asked to enter the plantation house one at a time. When his turn came, Jack was sure he must be extremely forceful with his non-compliance. "I've been wronged," he could think of nothing else. The tall hand-carved door, spiraling staircase, and plantation office, were each features Jack never expected to see. He blurted his concentrated declaration again. Then, he heard the softest, kindest, sincerest voice he could ever remember hearing. And the plantation owner said, "Jack, I didn't buy you to work for me. I bought you to to set you free." Stunned, the self-focused now-former slave stared in wonderment at his life benefactor. He had paid an enormous price for Jack. And now, he had been released. That depth of grace and love was irreplaceable. He wanted to be no where else! "Master," Jack responded, "I will gladly serve you all of my days!!" "In the past you offered the parts of your body to be slaves to sin and evil; you lived only for evil. In the same way now you must give yourselves to be slaves of goodness. Then you will live only for God." (Romans 6:19, New Century Version) "If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed." (John 8:36, King James Version)

Only a core change of Whom we're living for is powerful enough to eliminate prejudices, traditions, addictions, and racism. Let's let God heal impossible systemic injustice one person at a time! Only He can do it!!

Glad to be His slave,