Breaking All The Rules: The Politics of Spades and Race

Last night, I played a few games of Spades tonight.  Whether you’re an avid card/spades player or not, this is quite interesting.

I learned to play the game of Spades when I was a freshman in college.  From the look of faces of all my friends, that was 15 years too late.

In African-American households, Spades is not just a game– its the game.  You typically won’t find a barbecues or family reunions without 4 chairs and a table waiting with some cards.  Coming from a different cultural background that I did, the only game I knew how to play was computer Solitaire.

My first year in college, the students in my campus ministry sat me down and let me watch them play Spades.  There had to be an “aha” moment before they would even let me touch the cards.  So I waited patiently.

“BIG Joker, little Joker, Deuce, Ace, spades.  Joker, Joker, Deauce, Ace, spades.”  I repeated it to myself until it was a part of me because it was the only way to remember the cards that played high.

That summer, I spent alot of time learning the game of Spades and even started to teach others how to play.  Today, I’ve become an avid Spades player!

But, what happens when you sit down to play Spades and the two teams aren’t playing by the same rules?

What happens when the rules vary across racial lines?

That’s exactly what happened two years into my Spades stint.

While at a Christian conference, some friends and I, registered for a Spades tournament.  I sat down at the table with great anticipation of sharing my love of spades with others who loved the game just as much.  About five hands into the game, something wasn’t right.  We found ourselves arguing over who won the hand only to find that we were playing Joker, Joker, Deuce, Ace, our opponents were playing Ace, King, Queen, Jack.

We explained our logics only growing more and more furious.  And as the conversation grew more chaotic, we realized that this argument was one of black vs. white.   Our team was black and their team was white.

We gave each other looks of mistrust and disdain from across the table.

Whose rules will we play by?

Who has to play with a handicap and who gets the upper-hand?

In a lot of ways, this game wasn’t about honoring yor neighbor, it was about prestige, title, and fame.

So, we approached the officials for the tournament and explained our situation to them.  With a chuckle, we explained the seriousness of this offense.  The judged decided that  ”Joker, Joker, Deauce, Ace” was the more common mode and thereby favoring what I knew to be the African American version of Spades.

The air could have easily been pierced with a pin.

The white students, in a midst of anger proclaimed that those rules were simply wrong and the judges partial.  Compromises were sought but in the midst of those the white students quit.  They walked away from the table complaining of unfairness and favoritism.

I grew angry and frustrated because I would have easily learned the other set of rules to play a game of spades with my brothers who were at the table– but they refused… It wasn’t that they refused the game- they refused the Body.

What are ways that we continue to refuse eachother and say no to the body of Christ?

What are the ways we seem to lose sight of one of the most amazing acts of reconciliation, ever?

Bridging the gap and creating an authentic community of honesty and faithfulness is one that is done only in and through the risen Christ.  In fact, this reconciliation breaks all the rule we so often cling to- it is one of humility.  While it is harder than it looks or sounds, I’m grateful that we can be honest not have to do it on our own.