Claiming radical inclusion means we must do everything we can to put an end to structural and institutional degradation and to bring healing and renewal into our societies.
Readers Weigh in On Racism and Violence and What We Can Do
and New Featured Resources
We Asked You...
Last month we paused our eBulletin series on Personal and World Transformation to take a look at the pressing issue of racsim and violence in today's world. Our authors and guest authors shared many deep and thoughtful perspectives. Recognizing that we all come to the table with unique experience and ideas, we asked our readers to write in with their thoughts on what we can do about violence and racism. We received many meaningful, intelligent, and pertinent responses. Here are some of them along with some new featured articles!
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Black Lives Matter
Chris Glaser
In thanksgiving for the life and work of Julian Bond, who tired of hearing “If only they were all like you.” It reminds me of often hearing from those opposed to LGBT ordination, “But we would ordain you!”
“Black lives matter” is not just wisdom for protesting “issues” of law enforcement. It should be a mantra for all of life.
Black lives matter when there is equal access to prenatal and postnatal care, preschool, decent housing and nutrition, education, healthcare, employment, promotions, advancement, economic opportunities, voting rights, justice in the courts, representation on school boards, law enforcement agencies, city councils, state legislatures, congress, corporate boards, and executive positions in business and government—to name some of the things routinely denied.
READ ON...
Black Lives Matter by Chris Glaser
In thanksgiving for the life and work of Julian Bond, who tired of hearing “If only they were all like you.” It reminds me of often hearing from those opposed to LGBT ordination, “But we would ordain you!”
“Black lives matter” is not just wisdom for protesting “issues” of law enforcement. It should be a mantra for all of life.
Black lives matter when there is equal access to prenatal and postnatal care, preschool, decent housing and nutrition, education, healthcare, employment, promotions, advancement, economic opportunities, voting rights, justice in the courts, representation on school boards, law enforcement agencies, city councils, state legislatures, congress, corporate boards, and executive positions in business and government—to name some of the things routinely denied.
Black lives matter when the disproportionate detention and incarceration rate of African-Americans on mere suspicion, manufactured evidence, mandatory minimum sentencing, or low-level drug offenses is reduced dramatically or eliminated altogether.
A pet peeve of mine has been to see black people cast in incidental roles in movies and TV programs (how many black judges can there be?) rather than seeing their characters integrally woven into an ensemble cast, though this has been changing in recent years.
I once worked with a progressive but all-white group who would have agreed that all of the above are examples of institutional racism, and whose members said they wanted to do something about it. But a colleague who had worked with the group far longer than I told me privately, “They all want to address the issue of racism politically, but few, if any, actually have black friends.”
The person observed that institutional racism will only be dismantled as we take racism personally, when black lives matter in our own friendships, families, congregations, work places, working relationships, and social networks.
A white police officer testifying in the O.J. Simpson trial was asked if he was a racist, and he said “no.” I was astounded. I don’t know how any white person in the United States can say they have avoided being taught prejudice to some degree. And we all benefit from white privilege, just as our white ancestors (and not just slaveholders) benefited from black slavery.
I believe our society survives partly because it is graced with the fortitude and forgiveness and sometimes generational forgetfulness of the minorities it has wronged. And most amazing to me are the descendants of slaves who were “owned,” brutalized, raped, and lynched. How can they stand our uppity white domination? How can they stand the undue influence of angry and mean folk trying to undo what progress has been made in redressing past sins?
Those who forgave the deadly, racist shooter in the Charleston church were as Christ to me. Their grace exposed the racism of those who held onto the confederate flag as a way of life. Their grace transformed parts of the country that seemed irredeemable.
Black lives matter.
Readers Share their Thoughts: What Can Be Done About Racism and Violence
Will Stambaugh
Thank you for the opportunity to respond regarding racism. I, like many others, have no power to enact laws, right wrongs and make every human being equal and accepted by their peers. I wish I could enact and enforce equality. But failing that, what I can do is to be a friend and a fellow human to those I meet, see, and live near.
READ ON...
Readers Share their Thoughts: What Can Be Done About Racism and Violence by ProgressiveChristianity.org
Will Stambaugh
Thank you for the opportunity to respond regarding racism. I, like many others, have no power to enact laws, right wrongs and make every human being equal and accepted by their peers. I wish I could enact and enforce equality. But failing that, what I can do is to be a friend and a fellow human to those I meet, see, and live near.
John Baikie
Australia
This message is in response to the request for comments on what can be done about racism and violence in the world.
Here are a few comments to add to the many I am sure you will receive.
Racism and violence are interrelated but are not on the same spectrum. To this extent they need to be considered separately.
Having lived for forty years in South Africa and then thirty years in Australia, with a couple of years in the USA and Canada, I have experienced many things and drawn some conclusion rightly or wrongly.
Racism:
Racism, in one form or another has existed since Biblical days, and nobody has been able to eradicate it. With the world population now exceeding seven billion people it seems inevitable that racial issues will continue to emerge in different parts of the world. Human nature, being what it is, believing that racism can be eradicated is wishful thinking and naïve. That doesn’t mean that nothing can or should be done. Much progress has been made in some countries, notably the USA, South Africa and others.
So what can be done?
Education, is a key factor. Appropriate education, focusing on human rights, values, empathy and integrity, amongst other topics, would be a good start. Particular attention should be given to the education of women, who have more influence than men on the values and attitudes of children.
Encouraging leaders of all kinds to respect the rights of others and particularly, to understand people of other racial groups and to be willing to work with them for the benefit of all, would help.
Associated with racism is religion. Educating people to understand and to respect the religions of others would help to defuse racial tensions.
Violence:
Wars and violence have been around for thousands of years. Perhaps the high levels of testosterone in men compared with women has been responsible for much of the violence. Violence amongst the male members of many animal species is quite common and normal. One wonders what the level of warfare and violence would be in the world if women were “in charge”, rather than men.
The rise of terrorism, in different forms, has added a further dimension to violence around the world. Violence stems from a variety of causes. For example, dissatisfaction with the availability of jobs, working conditions, wage differentials and other economic factors play an important part in violence. To this extent, keeping unemployment at very low levels is one way of reducing violence. People with steady jobs are less likely to participate in riots and other violent acts than those who are frustrated by the inability to find a job that will house, feed, clothe and educate their family.
People with extreme or fundamentalist positions on religion, who believe that they have some kind of monopoly on God and that everyone else with different beliefs, are wrong, are dangerous and are more likely to become violent in order to defend or promote their particular religious beliefs. Once again, education can play an important part in encouraging an attitude of tolerance towards people who have different religious or social views about what is acceptable.
Economic factors play an important part, so one way to reduce violence is to promote economic advancement for all, and for there to be adequate unemployment benefits for those who are genuinely out of work.
Another factor is the growing misuse of drugs and alcohol, which are frequently associated with violence. It is difficult to say what the answer is to the drug and alcohol problem, however appropriate education pops up as a necessary, if not sufficient part of a solution. Strict enforcement of the law for drug traffickers seems to be an obvious way to help with the drug problem. However,
It is a complex problem, and simply throwing more and more people into jail is counterproductive. Perhaps with the aid of modern technology, more effective ways of creating “house arrest” types of programs would be more effective than traditional incarceration.
This message only touches the surface of what is a growing and serious issue for governments and social workers around the world. I hope others have much better ideas.
Pat Bath
OR
What can we do?
Share what has gone on in our history. EVERYONE should know that Blacks were prevented from getting FHA and other home loans, that our government purposely prevented Blacks from living in white neighborhoods and forced them into overcrowded areas. Most of us just learned this in the past few months.
EVERYONE should know that Blacks have been targeted as children, treated differently, punished harsher, forced into the School-to-prison pipeline so corporations which run prisons can get workers on the cheap. That when they come out of prison it is so hard to get a job that they never recover.
That when the man of the house is arrested, everyone in the family loses their income, mothers are forced to work IF they can find a job, children are forced to grow up without a father and without enough food.
EVERYONE should know that people who don’t get good nutrition and who are forced to live in areas with lead paint, mercury, toxic wastes–their BRAINS suffer.
Everyone needs to know that Blacks were denied decent jobs after the war.
Everyone needs to know what happened under Jim Crow laws.I read yesterday that many in the South don’t even know who won the Civil War? That many books still call it the War of Northern Aggression.
People in Texas are writing our textbooks. They are not historians. They live in a state which has the most politically and religious driven standards of any state! What will children learn from those textbooks? (and they are used throughout the U.S.)
The Voting Rights Act is SO important yet it is being (demolished.)
We are forcing generations to grow up without adequate nutrition and without the self-esteem a job brings. What are they expected to do with their time and their lives? How many will get used to video games as a way of life?
People need JOBS. Those who say Everyone can work are wrong. We need to invest money in bridges, underground pipes, energy efficient housing, etc.
Michael Neal Arnold
MAI, MRICS
Like many progressive Christians, I have often been reluctant to self identify as such. I have found that, in the secular world, Christian is Christian. I marvel that clearly intelligent people cannot, or will not, make any distinctions. So, what comes out is, “I am a Christian but …” And frankly I think people pretty much tune out at that point. I know what I should do is simply say that I am a Christian and let people judge me by my actions. Concervatives cannot not own the term Christian unless we cede it too them. Progressive leaders (e.g. Bishop Spong) do get some limited media attention but I think it will take the hundreds of thousands (millions) Christians who don’t agree with perverted so called Christian positions to proclaim that the Pat Robertsons of this world do NOT speak for us. My first feeble step a few years ago was to affix a bumper sticker on my car that announces (pretty discretely, I must confess), “I am an Episcopalian”.
John BaikieAustralia
This message is in response to the request for comments on what can be done about racism and violence in the world.
Here are a few comments to add to the many I am sure you will receive.
Racism and violence are interrelated but are not on the same spectrum. To this extent they need to be considered separately.
Having lived for forty years in South Africa and then thirty years in Australia, with a couple of years in the USA and Canada, I have experienced many things and drawn some conclusion rightly or wrongly.
Racism:
Racism, in one form or another has existed since Biblical days, and nobody has been able to eradicate it. With the world population now exceeding seven billion people it seems inevitable that racial issues will continue to emerge in different parts of the world. Human nature, being what it is, believing that racism can be eradicated is wishful thinking and naïve. That doesn’t mean that nothing can or should be done. Much progress has been made in some countries, notably the USA, South Africa and others.
So what can be done?
READ ON....
Pat BathOregon
What can we do?
Share what has gone on in our history. EVERYONE should know that Blacks were prevented from getting FHA and other home loans, that our government purposely prevented Blacks from living in white neighborhoods and forced them into overcrowded areas. Most of us just learned this in the past few months.
EVERYONE should know that Blacks have been targeted as children, treated differently, punished harsher, forced into the School-to-prison pipeline so corporations which run prisons can get workers on the cheap. That when they come out of prison it is so hard to get a job that they never recover.
That when the man of the house is arrested, everyone in the family loses their income, mothers are forced to work IF they can find a job, children are forced to grow up without a father and without enough food.
EVERYONE should know that people who don’t get good nutrition and who are forced to live in areas with lead paint, mercury, toxic wastes–their BRAINS suffer.
Everyone needs to know that Blacks were denied decent jobs after the war.
READ ON....
Michael Neal ArnoldMAI, MRICS
Like many progressive Christians, I have often been reluctant to self identify as such. I have found that, in the secular world, Christian is Christian. I marvel that clearly intelligent people cannot, or will not, make any distinctions. So, what comes out is, “I am a Christian but …” And frankly I think people pretty much tune out at that point. I know what I should do is simply say that I am a Christian and let people judge me by my actions. Concervatives cannot not own the term Christian unless we cede it too them. Progressive leaders (e.g. Bishop Spong) do get some limited media attention but I think it will take the hundreds of thousands (millions) Christians who don’t agree with perverted so called Christian positions to proclaim that the Pat Robertsons of this world do NOT speak for us. My first feeble step a few years ago was to affix a bumper sticker on my car that announces (pretty discretely, I must confess), “I am an Episcopalian”..
Readers Share Their Thoughts on Racism and Violence
Nancy KingBurlington, Ontario, Canada
What has happened in the Southern US lately is truly shocking and almost inconceivable. However, living here in Canada, we can only watch and wring our hands at the horrible hatred so graphically shown in your country. Many Canadians express a sense of superiority and many pat themselves on the back that “we don’t have anything like that here”. Certainly it is not acceptable here to express racial intolerance or disrespect in any way. We even have laws that are set to protect against any such. I am glad we have that but I have to think that for many people, there is a deep underlying feeling of racial intolerance. Every so often it will show its ugly head. We publicly pride ourselves on also being intolerant of misogyny, and homophobia. Although both are enshrined in law, there is no question that it is still simmering below the surface – and sometimes surfaces.
READ ON...
Readers Share Their Thoughts on Racism and Violence by ProgressiveChristianity.org
Nancy King,
Burlington, Ontario, Canada
What has happened in the Southern US lately is truly shocking and almost inconceivable. However, living here in Canada, we can only watch and wring our hands at the horrible hatred so graphically shown in your country. Many Canadians express a sense of superiority and many pat themselves on the back that “we don’t have anything like that here”. Certainly it is not acceptable here to express racial intolerance or disrespect in any way. We even have laws that are set to protect against any such. I am glad we have that but I have to think that for many people, there is a deep underlying feeling of racial intolerance. Every so often it will show its ugly head. We publicly pride ourselves on also being intolerant of misogyny, and homophobia. Although both are enshrined in law, there is no question that it is still simmering below the surface – and sometimes surfaces.
I was recently in conversation with a woman who prides herself as being “a born again Christian”. She was expounding on how terrible it is that our new sex education program here in Ontario schools teaches an acceptance of homosexuality as being inborn and not a choice. She also stated, “I hate all Muslims!” When I tried to argue both these points she went on to say, “I have never met a nice Muslim. I responded that I had dined the previous evening with a very nice Muslim gentleman. She asked me where that was and when I told her, she suddenly realized she knew this man ( he is also a person of colour). That ended that part of the conversation!
Sitting up here in Canada, I feel sick hearing about the terrible troubles in the United States. I guess I need to say to you that although we do not have the same troubles, I believe that although we have managed to enshrine many safeguards for people of colour, there is still a dangerous lingering sense of mistrust and hatred for many people. I also think the Fundamentalist Christian Church harbours a lot of that.
My final comment I would like to make is that I truly believe that somehow you have to get control of the gun situation in your country. It is horrifying to read and hear of the terrible crimes that are carried out by some person that has every right to own a gun and use it with impunity.
I wish every blessing on our great neighbour to our South.
Gary Schrag
Overland Park, KS
I remember that Martin Luther King Jr. once said something like, [I think that one can be forgiven for being black, but not for being poor.] I thought about that when I see that some African Americans have been very successful in America, but poor African Americans may be worse off than they were prior to the Civil Rights movement. Re-segregation is a reality in some areas of the country. The success of some African Americans has really angered some caucasians. I think that the anger is predominantly among the underclass. Witness the Tea Party. When I see their rallies, they appear to be primarily white. The Republican party is also predominantly white and seems to be working very hard to appeal to the most prejudiced populations.
I am a supporter of President Obama and am outraged by the efforts of Republicans to oppose him at every opportunity. When I listened to him speak at the Mother Emmanuel African Methodist Church in Charleston, I realized what an outstanding person and leader he is and I was saddened that so many are not realizing his greatness and the wonderful opportunity they are missing. It brought to mind a verse from the Gospel according to Luke (19:44) in which Jesus comments: “They will crush you to the ground, you and your children within you, and they will not leave within you one stone upon another; because you did not recognize the time of your visitation from God.’” That may be an overstatement concerning these times, he is not “the Messiah,” but he is special. Just today we learning that he had led the nation in one of the most significant successful negotiations for peace in our history. We have been visited, hopefully we will not miss its significance.
And then there is the reaction of so many to the influx of hispanics. I am more optimistic about their integration into our nation. It will take time, but the response to people like Donald Trump does not represent a large group. Inter-marriage is far more widely accepted. When the majority of hispanics speak English and more people become bilingual the prejudice will wane as did it with other ethnic groups.
But our history with African Americans will take more time and a lot more effort. Sadly each ethnic group that has emerged has been prejudiced against them. It will take a very intentional effort by groups to obliterate racism. Even though some religious groups have worked at it, the effort has been inadequate. The white protestant churches are so busy trying to survive or be successful I would not look to them for hope. Looking at the history of human kind it is difficult to be optimistic. Ironically it may be the African American community that will save us as they keep us from self destructing. Many of the gains have come from that community. The display of forgiveness from the families of the slain in Charleston may have moved us to “higher ground.” I still have hope.
Grace and Peace.
Tucker Edward
I am embarrassed to admit that I am addicted to violence. Embarrassed because I consider myself as a retired, liberal, progressive, peace-loving, ordained pastor in the United Methodist Church to be enamored with portrayal of such behavior . And though I have preached against war, the proliferation of easy access to hand guns, and even had the churches I served collect such weapons to be melted down and destroyed, any evaluation of my TV viewing, novel-reading, habits show me to be addicted to violent shows which always seem to start with a killing; whether it was the opening to GUNSMOKE in the sixties, where Marshall Matt Dillon guns down a villain, to CASTLE accompanying his spouse Beckett to a murder scene, I seem inured (maybe even excited) to the obvious violence portrayed. What can I say? Does the witness attributed to the Apostle Paul in Romans “I discover this principle, then, when I want to do the right, only the wrong is within my reach” help alleviate my own tendencies? (Romans 7:21) Is it any wonder then that while the polls overwhelmingly cite the American public in favor of stricter measures against gun procurement, and stiffer sentencing for convicted offenders there is still a thrill that cannot, seeming will not change. How can I criticize such responses when I am guilty of the same hypocrisy?
Recently, film director Spike Lee is in our Chicagoland area producing a film with the controversial title CHI-RAQ which unfavorably compares the violence in our city with the warfare in Iraq. It is a satire based upon the old
Greek classic play of Aristophanes “Lysisrata” from 411B.C. in which the women of Athens withhold sex until their men put an end to the Peloponnesian War. It makes some trenchant points on how to end such conflicts without further violence. While there have been pubic marches and demonstration against the deaths of innocent children and adults, maybe the more personal approach within families will help to end the killing.
Ed Reardon
Indelibly burned into my memory is the voice of one particular African American woman in the recent massacre in South Carolina. Faced with the senseless loss of her loved one in a church on a wednesday, while that person was actively practicing her faith, and allowed by the presiding judge to confront the killer, she told him he’d taken from her the most precious gift she had in life, and in her next breath said, “but I forgive you!” Encapsulated within that voice, within that statement was the purest expression of what Christianity ought to be that I have ever heard. Mark Twain suggested that Christianity is a wonderful idea, but that nobody’s ever practiced it. That woman practices it, with humility, sincerity, conviction, and grace–she and the other survivors demonstrated all of that. And look at the good that flowed from it. Would that we all had the courage to do so.
Garby Elmore
I want to thank you for bringing up this very important topic. I appreciate Bishop Spong’s words, quoting John, “I come that you may have life and have it abundantly”. We as Christians and citizens of the world, cannot be silent on these issues. We need to preach it from the pulpit, discuss it in groups and call out the violence and racism when we see it. Silence is not an option. I wonder if there is too much emphasis in our society on winning at all costs — winning economically, winning socially and winning in sports — also at all costs. How do we teach kids to respect one another, that winning isn’t everything? Our churches need to be places where we can “intermingle” by inviting members of of other faith traditions to come and over coffee have a conversation, and likewise we need to get out and visit as well. In a nutshell social justice must be a priority.
Vic. Hs. Leu
Otjiwarongo, Namibia
Racism is structural violence.
Violence is the “take-away of someone’s life”.
Maybe step by step.
Share life is the contrary.
To be grateful is the solution.
To become grateful:
Learn to exchange “something” against a word.
Bob Pattie,
Lawrence, KS
Your point of racism being rampant in society, and Biblically based, is well taken. You have spent years of writing and speaking about it. I’m waiting for you to address the Bible-based notion that MALE DOMINATION was and continues to be the foundation of the evils of which you speak.
Wade Dizdar
McAllen, Texas
I can’t say the pressure is directly on me; it’s on them. But I’m from South Texas and went to college in New York City and in Virginia, spending about 8 years in the area. My Dad was European and then lived in Ohio; my Mom was a Southerner and farmer’s daughter.
I might not have been born if they had not “taken a chance on love” nor persisted, when economic + social success were not a given.
I believe pressure is on parties to accomplish precisely the aims of the deranged, Southern shooter; so that the impulse posting of racial comments against Southerners is babysat and encouraged. Why, oh why should a flag be removed from a whole region, when that flag is an emotional flashpoint for the very sentiments involved.
Does someone possess a final solution, for those parties romantically attached to the past such that a mad individual, “Were he to represent the entire population, Which he does not” would be moved to act and act violently? Even this logical thread is weakened, by undue emphasis on that person.
I include it, for balance though, while pointing to the Northern states. What “is it” about those other regions that qualifies them idly to point fingers of judgement at ma and pa on the farm etc. in such a callous fashion. To rear the head back for perspective is dizzying; add to that you become singled out, yourself, and it’s understood to be rare.
Gary Schrag
Overland Park, KS
I remember that Martin Luther King Jr. once said something like, [I think that one can be forgiven for being black, but not for being poor.] I thought about that when I see that some African Americans have been very successful in America, but poor African Americans may be worse off than they were prior to the Civil Rights movement. Re-segregation is a reality in some areas of the country. The success of some African Americans has really angered some caucasians. I think that the anger is predominantly among the underclass. Witness the Tea Party. When I see their rallies, they appear to be primarily white. The Republican party is also predominantly white and seems to be working very hard to appeal to the most prejudiced populations.
READ ON...
Tucker Edward
I am embarrassed to admit that I am addicted to violence. Embarrassed because I consider myself as a retired, liberal, progressive, peace-loving, ordained pastor in the United Methodist Church to be enamored with portrayal of such behavior . And though I have preached against war, the proliferation of easy access to hand guns, and even had the churches I served collect such weapons to be melted down and destroyed, any evaluation of my TV viewing, novel-reading, habits show me to be addicted to violent shows which always seem to start with a killing; whether it was the opening to GUNSMOKE in the sixties, where Marshall Matt Dillon guns down a villain, to CASTLE accompanying his spouse Beckett to a murder scene, I seem inured (maybe even excited) to the obvious violence portrayed. What can I say? Does the witness attributed to the Apostle Paul in Romans “I discover this principle, then, when I want to do the right, only the wrong is within my reach” help alleviate my own tendencies? (Romans 7:21) Is it any wonder then that while the polls overwhelmingly cite the American public in favor of stricter measures against gun procurement, and stiffer sentencing for convicted offenders there is still a thrill that cannot, seeming will not change. How can I criticize such responses when I am guilty of the same hypocrisy?
READ ON...
Ed Reardon
Indelibly burned into my memory is the voice of one particular African American woman in the recent massacre in South Carolina. Faced with the senseless loss of her loved one in a church on a wednesday, while that person was actively practicing her faith, and allowed by the presiding judge to confront the killer, she told him he’d taken from her the most precious gift she had in life, and in her next breath said, “but I forgive you!” Encapsulated within that voice, within that statement was the purest expression of what Christianity ought to be that I have ever heard. Mark Twain suggested that Christianity is a wonderful idea, but that nobody’s ever practiced it. That woman practices it, with humility, sincerity, conviction, and grace–she and the other survivors demonstrated all of that. And look at the good that flowed from it. Would that we all had the courage to do so.
Garby Elmore
I want to thank you for bringing up this very important topic. I appreciate Bishop Spong’s words, quoting John, “I come that you may have life and have it abundantly”. We as Christians and citizens of the world, cannot be silent on these issues. We need to preach it from the pulpit, discuss it in groups and call out the violence and racism when we see it. Silence is not an option. I wonder if there is too much emphasis in our society on winning at all costs — winning economically, winning socially and winning in sports — also at all costs. How do we teach kids to respect one another, that winning isn’t everything? Our churches need to be places where we can “intermingle” by inviting members of of other faith traditions to come and over coffee have a conversation, and likewise we need to get out and visit as well. In a nutshell social justice must be a priority.
Bob PattieLawrence, KS
Your point of racism being rampant in society, and Biblically based, is well taken. You have spent years of writing and speaking about it. I’m waiting for you to address the Bible-based notion that MALE DOMINATION was and continues to be the foundation of the evils of which you speak.
Wade DizdarMcAllen, Texas
I can’t say the pressure is directly on me; it’s on them. But I’m from South Texas and went to college in New York City and in Virginia, spending about 8 years in the area. My Dad was European and then lived in Ohio; my Mom was a Southerner and farmer’s daughter.
I might not have been born if they had not “taken a chance on love” nor persisted, when economic + social success were not a given.
I believe pressure is on parties to accomplish precisely the aims of the deranged, Southern shooter; so that the impulse posting of racial comments against Southerners is babysat and encouraged. Why, oh why should a flag be removed from a whole region, when that flag is an emotional flashpoint for the very sentiments involved.
READ ON...
Featured Article
The Truth Shall Set You Free
Rozelle White
I’ve written before about my beloved albeit broken community; about my church and why I continue to be engaged with a community of faith. I am a member of and leader in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA), one of the largest Protestant denominations in this country. My church has approximately 3.8 million members in around 10,000 congregations across the U.S. and the Caribbean. This church is a historically white church, founded by a German Catholic monk named Martin Luther. He never wanted to start a new church, he wanted to reform the Roman Catholic Church. Luther felt like the church was not speaking in the language of the people and that the church had lost it’s prophetic voice and leadership within society. His 95 Theses marked the beginning of what we now call the Protestant Reformation. In 2017, Lutherans around the world will mark the 500th anniversary of this historic event. My church is a church that was born out of truth-telling, risk taking and prophetic imagination.
I’ve always claimed this church as my church. I often say I am a bit of a unicorn – a Black Puerto Rican, third generation Lutheran. I was baptized, confirmed, married, educated and called to ministry in this church.
READ ON...
The Truth Shall Set You Free by Rozella White
I’ve written before about my beloved albeit broken community; about my church and why I continue to be engaged with a community of faith. I am a member of and leader in theEvangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA), one of the largest Protestant denominations in this country. My church has approximately 3.8 million members in around 10,000 congregations across the U.S. and the Caribbean. This church is a historically white church, founded by a German Catholic monk named Martin Luther. He never wanted to start a new church, he wanted to reform the Roman Catholic Church. Luther felt like the church was not speaking in the language of the people and that the church had lost it’s prophetic voice and leadership within society. His 95 Theses marked the beginning of what we now call the Protestant Reformation. In 2017, Lutherans around the world will mark the500th anniversary of this historic event. My church is a church that was born out of truth-telling, risk taking and prophetic imagination.
I remember that Martin Luther King Jr. once said something like, [I think that one can be forgiven for being black, but not for being poor.] I thought about that when I see that some African Americans have been very successful in America, but poor African Americans may be worse off than they were prior to the Civil Rights movement. Re-segregation is a reality in some areas of the country. The success of some African Americans has really angered some caucasians. I think that the anger is predominantly among the underclass. Witness the Tea Party. When I see their rallies, they appear to be primarily white. The Republican party is also predominantly white and seems to be working very hard to appeal to the most prejudiced populations.
READ ON...
Tucker Edward
I am embarrassed to admit that I am addicted to violence. Embarrassed because I consider myself as a retired, liberal, progressive, peace-loving, ordained pastor in the United Methodist Church to be enamored with portrayal of such behavior . And though I have preached against war, the proliferation of easy access to hand guns, and even had the churches I served collect such weapons to be melted down and destroyed, any evaluation of my TV viewing, novel-reading, habits show me to be addicted to violent shows which always seem to start with a killing; whether it was the opening to GUNSMOKE in the sixties, where Marshall Matt Dillon guns down a villain, to CASTLE accompanying his spouse Beckett to a murder scene, I seem inured (maybe even excited) to the obvious violence portrayed. What can I say? Does the witness attributed to the Apostle Paul in Romans “I discover this principle, then, when I want to do the right, only the wrong is within my reach” help alleviate my own tendencies? (Romans 7:21) Is it any wonder then that while the polls overwhelmingly cite the American public in favor of stricter measures against gun procurement, and stiffer sentencing for convicted offenders there is still a thrill that cannot, seeming will not change. How can I criticize such responses when I am guilty of the same hypocrisy?
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Ed Reardon
Indelibly burned into my memory is the voice of one particular African American woman in the recent massacre in South Carolina. Faced with the senseless loss of her loved one in a church on a wednesday, while that person was actively practicing her faith, and allowed by the presiding judge to confront the killer, she told him he’d taken from her the most precious gift she had in life, and in her next breath said, “but I forgive you!” Encapsulated within that voice, within that statement was the purest expression of what Christianity ought to be that I have ever heard. Mark Twain suggested that Christianity is a wonderful idea, but that nobody’s ever practiced it. That woman practices it, with humility, sincerity, conviction, and grace–she and the other survivors demonstrated all of that. And look at the good that flowed from it. Would that we all had the courage to do so.
Garby Elmore
I want to thank you for bringing up this very important topic. I appreciate Bishop Spong’s words, quoting John, “I come that you may have life and have it abundantly”. We as Christians and citizens of the world, cannot be silent on these issues. We need to preach it from the pulpit, discuss it in groups and call out the violence and racism when we see it. Silence is not an option. I wonder if there is too much emphasis in our society on winning at all costs — winning economically, winning socially and winning in sports — also at all costs. How do we teach kids to respect one another, that winning isn’t everything? Our churches need to be places where we can “intermingle” by inviting members of of other faith traditions to come and over coffee have a conversation, and likewise we need to get out and visit as well. In a nutshell social justice must be a priority.
Bob PattieLawrence, KS
Your point of racism being rampant in society, and Biblically based, is well taken. You have spent years of writing and speaking about it. I’m waiting for you to address the Bible-based notion that MALE DOMINATION was and continues to be the foundation of the evils of which you speak.
Wade DizdarMcAllen, Texas
I can’t say the pressure is directly on me; it’s on them. But I’m from South Texas and went to college in New York City and in Virginia, spending about 8 years in the area. My Dad was European and then lived in Ohio; my Mom was a Southerner and farmer’s daughter.
I might not have been born if they had not “taken a chance on love” nor persisted, when economic + social success were not a given.
I believe pressure is on parties to accomplish precisely the aims of the deranged, Southern shooter; so that the impulse posting of racial comments against Southerners is babysat and encouraged. Why, oh why should a flag be removed from a whole region, when that flag is an emotional flashpoint for the very sentiments involved.
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The Truth Shall Set You Free
Rozelle White
I’ve written before about my beloved albeit broken community; about my church and why I continue to be engaged with a community of faith. I am a member of and leader in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA), one of the largest Protestant denominations in this country. My church has approximately 3.8 million members in around 10,000 congregations across the U.S. and the Caribbean. This church is a historically white church, founded by a German Catholic monk named Martin Luther. He never wanted to start a new church, he wanted to reform the Roman Catholic Church. Luther felt like the church was not speaking in the language of the people and that the church had lost it’s prophetic voice and leadership within society. His 95 Theses marked the beginning of what we now call the Protestant Reformation. In 2017, Lutherans around the world will mark the 500th anniversary of this historic event. My church is a church that was born out of truth-telling, risk taking and prophetic imagination.
I’ve always claimed this church as my church. I often say I am a bit of a unicorn – a Black Puerto Rican, third generation Lutheran. I was baptized, confirmed, married, educated and called to ministry in this church.
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The Truth Shall Set You Free by Rozella White
I’ve written before about my beloved albeit broken community; about my church and why I continue to be engaged with a community of faith. I am a member of and leader in theEvangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA), one of the largest Protestant denominations in this country. My church has approximately 3.8 million members in around 10,000 congregations across the U.S. and the Caribbean. This church is a historically white church, founded by a German Catholic monk named Martin Luther. He never wanted to start a new church, he wanted to reform the Roman Catholic Church. Luther felt like the church was not speaking in the language of the people and that the church had lost it’s prophetic voice and leadership within society. His 95 Theses marked the beginning of what we now call the Protestant Reformation. In 2017, Lutherans around the world will mark the500th anniversary of this historic event. My church is a church that was born out of truth-telling, risk taking and prophetic imagination.
I’ve always claimed this church as my church. I often say I am a bit of a unicorn – a Black Puerto Rican, third generation Lutheran. I was baptized, confirmed, married, educated and called to ministry in this church. At the founding convention of this church, there was a vision that the church would be 10% people of color within 10 years of our inception. This percentage has not come to pass and we’ve actually declined in the number of members of color within the church. There were always small pockets of communities of color within the denomination and people of color who were members of largely white congregations, but as a whole, we have not been good at addressing the cultural divisions that our church continues to embody.
So here I am, a young Black woman who is a leader in a predominantly white church. The past year has been difficult for me to reconcile my cultural identity and my denominational identity. I have long been a defender of the Lutheran church even as I have experienced the structural racism and brokenness that the church exhibits.
I’ve been asked if I went to college by members of this church. Not what college I went to, but if I went to college.
I’ve been told that my ability to articulate theological concepts is impressive.
I’ve been asked if one can touch my hair while being in a professional setting.
I’ve been ignored in congregations that I go to visit until people realize “who I am”.
I’ve been asked when I became Lutheran, because surely a black woman could not be born into this tradition.
I see how leaders of color are viewed and cannot get calls in congregations because “they aren’t a good fit” (read: we are a white congregation and we don’t know how to have a leader of color.)
There have also been microagressions – things that happen in subversive ways that undermine my leadership and authority – that are too many to count. At times I don’t know if it’s because I’m a woman or because I’m younger or because I’m Black. I’m always left wondering.
I’m always cognizant of the way I present myself in mostly white spaces. I think about who’s going to be there, what expectations they might have, how I talk about race and politics, what I wear, what my facial expressions are and how I am present. It’s a lot easier to notice my absence when I’m the only one or one of a handful of people of color at events. I listen to how people talk about people of color who are “difficult to work with” or Black women who “happen to be angry” or women of color in leadership who are “controlling”. I pay attention to these things and I choose to show up in a certain way. To be gracious and humble. To be witty and intellectual. To speak truth but wrap it in love so that it’s more palatable. Like most people of color, I live what W.E.B. DuBois called Double Consciousness everyday of my life. I know without a shadow of a doubt that there are at least two worlds that exist – the white world and the world of people of color. We have to translate language, social norms and behaviors in order to “fit in” and survive.
As details came out of Charleston last week, my heart shattered into a million pieces. At first it was simply because Black people were killed. Then it was because Black people were killed in their church home. Then it was because Black people were killed in their church home as they engaged in bible study and welcomed a stranger. Then it was because Black people were killed in their church home as they engaged in bible study and welcomed a stranger who was a white young adult. Then my world came crashing down around me as the news became public that the white young adult was a member of an ELCA congregation and that two of the people who were killed were graduates of an ELCA seminary.
It hit me like a ton of bricks: I am a part of a church that raises racist white people who then kill people of color who are educated in our institutions. That may seem like an oversimplification to some, but this truth broke what was left of my heart and I plunged into despair.
My thoughts began to swirl and I’ve literally had a headache for over a week.
I have been claiming a church as my own that’s not actually my church. My cultural practices and ways of being are not seen as authentically “Lutheran”.
I have been defending a church that has never repented of the systemic racism that is present within.
I have been leading within a church that is blind to it’s own white privilege and the ways that white supremacy work; that has a hard time actually naming racism as sin.
For the first time in my life, I felt like the church that I deeply love and has raised me was actually not my church.
As all of this was unfolding within me, I was scheduled to be at an event in an official role. I arrived to the event hanging on by a thread and being in a majority white community reminded me that as much as I want this to be my church with my people, that it’s not. During the opening worship of this event, I waited desperately to hear a word of lament; to share in communal grieving; to experience a moment of collective acknowledgement for what was going on in the world around us. I felt like the ground that I walk on had fundamentally shifted and that everyone around me was proceeding with business as usual.
In this moment, I posted my feelings on social media. I shared that I was at an event where we began with worship and I was looking at a shirt with the Palmetto Tree and Moon (images that are on the South Carolina state flag and license plates) and that it was ironic. Nothing was being said verbally about Charleston and worship went on without a mention, a moment of silence, a word. And it became clear that as much as I love my church and the people of my church, we can be so blinded by our inward focus and navel gazing that we miss crucial opportunities to actually show up.
This set off a bit of a firestorm. I later learned that my supervisor, who was also attending the event, was approached by leaders who were extremely upset by my post. The tension began to bubble up and I was set to address the group the next morning. When it was time for me address the community, I made mention to how I felt the night before and shared that I felt like, for the first time, this church wasn’t my church. I later found out that people felt personally attacked by my statements. I was called out for “being a public leader who should be careful about what she posts.” I was approached by a leader who said that they didn’t feel like Dylann Roof had accomplished his goal of creating a race war but that I made them feel like they were now in a race war due to my comments. I was told that I hurt the community deeply. I later found out that another person was asked to remove one of their tweets that was in response to one of my tweets and that “guests should be gracious in this space.”
I was told that I should give the community the benefit of the doubt because we are supposed to be allies. That I should wait to hear the community’s response to things at a later time in the event. That I didn’t understand how the community functioned. It was then intimated that we must not be in relationship because of what I’d done. This struck me because I never thought we weren’t in relationship. I thought that I was in a relationship that I could share how I was authentically feeling and that people would provide the space for that to happen.
It is inevitable that this post will cause more tension and conflict. But here’s one thing I know for sure – once you know the truth, it will set you free.
I am not in the business of hurting people. I am not in the business of being mean spirited or hateful. I am in the business of being authentically who I am and leading with truth and love. I shared my feelings and was then told that by doing so I disrupted a community. And I’m struggling with this. And you, dear shadow lovers, know what I do when I struggle. I write.
So this is my truth:
I am a Black woman called to leadership in a predominantly white church.
I will continue to call a thing a thing and speak truth.
I am not despairing because I know that many have gone before me who have endured much worse for much longer and kept the faith.
My hope does not reside in this church, it resides within the promises and power of God and the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
I still deeply love my church, in its varied expressions and with its varied strengths and its varied weaknesses.
In the midst of all of this, I can only think of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s words in hisLetter From a Birmingham Jail:
“I must make two honest confessions to you, my Christian and Jewish brothers. First, I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to “order” than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: “I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action”; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man’s freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a “more convenient season.” Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.”
I pray that as a collective body, as the church I desperately love, that we will continue to seek the truth so that we can all experience liberation and abundant life.
Originally Published Here: Embracing My Shadow
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Stand Your Ground: Black Bodies and the Justice of God
Kelly Brown Douglas
“If Trayvon was of age and armed, could he have stood his ground on that sidewalk?” – President Barack Obama
The 2012 killing of Trayvon Martin, an African-American teenager in Florida, and the subsequent acquittal of his killer, brought public attention to controversial “Stand Your Ground” laws. The verdict, as much as the killing, sent shock waves through the African-American community, recalling a history of similar deaths, and the long struggle for justice. On the Sunday morning following the verdict, black preachers around the country addressed the question, “Where is the justice of God? What are we to hope for?” This book is an attempt to take seriously social and theological questions raised by this and similar stories, and to answer black church people’s questions of justice and faith in response to the call of God.
But Kelly Brown Douglas also brings another significant interpretative lens to this text: that of a mother.
“There has been no story in the news that has troubled me more than that of Trayvon Martin’s slaying. President Obama said that if he had a son his son would look like Trayvon. I do have a son and he does look like Trayvon.”
Her book will also affirm the “truth” of a black mother’s faith in these times of stand your ground.
The author strikes a good balance between political theology and analysis. Names in the news, including Michael Brown, combine with her own personal perspective as a mother to give the narrative poignancy and timeliness. Stand Your Ground raises important spiritual and social questions. –Publishers Weekly
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Stand Your Ground: Black Bodies and the Justice of God by Kelly Brown Douglas purchase for $14.93
“If Trayvon was of age and armed, could he have stood his ground on that sidewalk?” –President Barack Obama
The 2012 killing of Trayvon Martin, an African-American teenager in Florida, and the subsequent acquittal of his killer, brought public attention to controversial “Stand Your Ground” laws. The verdict, as much as the killing, sent shock waves through the African-American community, recalling a history of similar deaths, and the long struggle for justice. On the Sunday morning following the verdict, black preachers around the country addressed the question, “Where is the justice of God? What are we to hope for?” This book is an attempt to take seriously social and theological questions raised by this and similar stories, and to answer black church people’s questions of justice and faith in response to the call of God.
But Kelly Brown Douglas also brings another significant interpretative lens to this text: that of a mother.
“There has been no story in the news that has troubled me more than that of Trayvon Martin’s slaying. President Obama said that if he had a son his son would look like Trayvon. I do have a son and he does look like Trayvon.”
Her book will also affirm the “truth” of a black mother’s faith in these times of stand your ground.
The author strikes a good balance between political theology and analysis. Names in the news, including Michael Brown, combine with her own personal perspective as a mother to give the narrative poignancy and timeliness. Stand Your Ground raises important spiritual and social questions. –Publishers Weekly
Kelly Brown Douglas is an Episcopal priest and professor of religion at Goucher College, Baltimore, Maryland. Her books include The Black Christ, What’s Faith Got to Do with It? and The Black Body and the Black Church/A Blues Slant.
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7 Steps to Prepare for Hate Attacks
Tom Ehrich
It is time for congregations to develop protocols for responding to hate initiatives on their doorsteps.
As the intolerant lose any self-discipline in lashing out at others, we can expect a fresh round of cross-burnings, gay-bashing graffiti, and online vitriol. At an Episcopal church in Delaware last weekend, for example, worshipers returned to their cars to find leaflets attacking them for being an inclusive church.
Such incidents are happening throughout our deeply divided nation, as well as in European states dealing with ethnic diversity and neo-Nazism. If your church, or its denomination, is identified as being gay-affirming, performing same-sex weddings, welcoming women into leadership, collaborating with Jews and Muslims, or honoring racial diversity, including mixed-race couples, you can expect to be noticed and, increasingly, targeted.
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7 Steps to Prepare for Hate Attacks by Tom Ehrich
It is time for congregations to develop protocols for responding to hate initiatives on their doorsteps.
As the intolerant lose any self-discipline in lashing out at others, we can expect a fresh round of cross-burnings, gay-bashing graffiti, and online vitriol. At an Episcopal church in Delaware last weekend, for example, worshipers returned to their cars to find leaflets attacking them for being an inclusive church.
Such incidents are happening throughout our deeply divided nation, as well as in European states dealing with ethnic diversity and neo-Nazism. If your church, or its denomination, is identified as being gay-affirming, performing same-sex weddings, welcoming women into leadership, collaborating with Jews and Muslims, or honoring racial diversity, including mixed-race couples, you can expect to be noticed and, increasingly, targeted.
Will that mean 100 hate initiatives, or a thousand, or a million? There’s no way to know. But being prepared seems sadly necessary.
Here are some suggested protocols for handling hate initiatives affecting your congregation:
1. Call the police. Hate crimes require investigation and prosecution, perhaps involving Federal authorities. Otherwise, victims become fearful, communities get divided, and the offenders accelerate.
2. Leaders must lead. Clergy and lay leaders must work as a team and get out front. The congregation needs to know that this is a safe place. No hysteria, no cowering, no secrets.
3. Take concrete action to protect the vulnerable, especially the targets of hate. I’m not thinking guns, but hugs, food, affirmation, safe places to stay — tangible reminders that they are a valued part of the whole faith community. Later, education and story-sharing. Even those who disagree with, say, being gay-affirming need to stand as one with the faith community, saying to all, “You can’t do this to us.”
4. Communicate, communicate. In every possible way, from newsletters to web blogs to telephone calls to open meetings to social media, get the word out: what happened, what it seems to mean, what actions have been taken, what will come next, how people can help.
5. Prepare a legal response. In advance, if possible, consult with an attorney on who can speak for the congregation, what can be said, how to cooperate with law enforcement, and what liability issues, if any, might arise. Have a plan ready.
6. Work with other congregations. If one congregation is likely to be targeted, so are similar congregations in your larger community. Talk it over with leaders of those congregations, including synagogues and mosques, in advance. Be prepared to stand together as a solid faith witness. I suggest you reach out also to religious leaders who don’t share your views or practices. Haters besmirch them, as well as you. It will help everyone if faithful people, across all lines, are seen as putting God above preferences.
7. Be not afraid. Hatemongers only succeed when they make people afraid. If people are determined to stay calm, united and self-confident, the hate initiative will fizzle.
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About the Author
Tom Ehrich is a writer, church consultant and Episcopal priest based in New York. He is the publisher of Fresh Day online magazine, author of On a Journey and two national newspaper columns. His website is Church Wellness – Morning Walk Media
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My Dirty Secret: On Racism in a Small Mid-Western Town
Jane Ellen Stillwagon
I have never told this story to anyone but my husband and God, but I’m telling it now. I realized after the murders in Charleston last week that the dirty secret I’ve been keeping is a part of the problem.
For many years I was the director of a preschool and childcare center. Over those years I got to know a lot of people in a little town, which I was not originally from.
Shortly after my husband and I had adopted our precious, brown skinned boy, I went to a large social event with all the folks who considered themselves’ to be important in the town. Many of the parents whose children I had cared for and taught were there. I was standing with a group of men and women, all of whom I knew fairly well, when it happened.
The party had gotten quite jolly. There was laughter and joking all around. The mood was happy and light.
Then, a woman I knew well made the most vile, racial joke I could ever have imagined.
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Jane Ellen Stillwagon
My Dirty Secret: On Racism in a Small Mid-Western Town ~ JANE ELLEN STILLWAGON
I have never told this story to anyone but my husband and God, but I’m telling it now. I realized after the murders in Charleston last week that the dirty secret I’ve been keeping is a part of the problem.
For many years I was the director of a preschool and childcare center. Over those years I got to know a lot of people in a little town, which I was not originally from.
Shortly after my husband and I had adopted our precious, brown skinned boy, I went to a large social event with all the folks who considered themselves’ to be important in the town. Many of the parents whose children I had cared for and taught were there. I was standing with a group of men and women, all of whom I knew fairly well, when it happened.
The party had gotten quite jolly. There was laughter and joking all around. The mood was happy and light.
Then, a woman I knew well made the most vile, racial joke I could ever have imagined. The punchline was calling black children “nigglets.” Everyone laughed. They laughed like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard. A dozen people, who I had liked and respected, laughed at an evil joke about children of color.
I stood there, unable to speak. Her eyes met mine. The woman who told the joke was someone whose children I had cared for, and had helped to raise. I turned and walked away.
I had taken care of her children, and loved them like my own. She told a dirty, sickening joke about children like my precious-angel boy. It couldn’t really even be called a joke. It was a nasty, hateful, racial slur.
The solid ground beneath my feet cracked and shifted that night. Never again would I be under the illusion that this world is a safe place for my son to grow up in.
My child, so perfect and amazing and beautiful, was not a human child to her. He was a N***. And no one else objected.
I knew that it was a small, too-conservative, all-white town. But these people were church-goers and community leaders. They were educated in large, mid-western, public universities. I didn’t think they were like that. And here’s the kicker, the darkest, dirtiest part of it:
Many of these people were educators. The woman who made the despicable racial slur had a degree in child development and was the wife of a school principal. There were teachers in the group. They were shaping the next generation in the town. And they laughed at a sickening, dirty joke about children of color.
I’ve carried this within me as my own shame. As a stain on my soul. This happened and I did nothing but walk away. I think I’ve been as angry with myself since that night as I have been with that woman and the people who laughed along. I would give my life for my child, but I would not risk causing a scene at a party.
A few days after the party, a mutual friend came to me and said that the racist, joke-teller was worried that she had offended me. She told my friend that, “she shouldn’t have told that joke with Jane standing there.” But she expressed no remorse for telling the joke.
It’s been six years and I’ve grown stronger and bolder, but except for enrolling my son in a different school system, and disassociating from nearly everyone in that town, I’ve done nothing about my shameful secret. I can’t turn back time and confront her on the spot, as I have in my dreams. All I can do is to start telling the truth and to do things differently when it happens again. It will happen again.
There is poisonous racism among us, and I have been complicit by not speaking loudly against it. I have been too polite, and too afraid of conflict and rejection.
It’s time for me, for us, to speak it and name it, anywhere, anytime, to anyone who will listen. It’s time to take up this cross. As white Christians we are called to lift the weight of this burden from the backs of our black brothers and sisters. White Christians built this cross. We must stop keeping the dirty secret of racism in our communities, churches and families. It needs to come out into the light, where it may be confronted head on, until the day that it is eradicated. Thy Kingdom Come, to that small town and to our nation.
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Vic. Hs. LeuOtjiwarongo, Namibia
Racism is structural violence.
Violence is the “take-away of someone’s life”.
Maybe step by step.
Share life is the contrary.
To be grateful is the solution.
To become grateful:
Learn to exchange “something” against a word.
There is only one race...the HUMAN race...
May all beings be free from suffering.
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So here I am, a young Black woman who is a leader in a predominantly white church. The past year has been difficult for me to reconcile my cultural identity and my denominational identity. I have long been a defender of the Lutheran church even as I have experienced the structural racism and brokenness that the church exhibits.
I’ve been asked if I went to college by members of this church. Not what college I went to, but if I went to college.
I’ve been told that my ability to articulate theological concepts is impressive.
I’ve been asked if one can touch my hair while being in a professional setting.
I’ve been ignored in congregations that I go to visit until people realize “who I am”.
I’ve been asked when I became Lutheran, because surely a black woman could not be born into this tradition.
I see how leaders of color are viewed and cannot get calls in congregations because “they aren’t a good fit” (read: we are a white congregation and we don’t know how to have a leader of color.)
There have also been microagressions – things that happen in subversive ways that undermine my leadership and authority – that are too many to count. At times I don’t know if it’s because I’m a woman or because I’m younger or because I’m Black. I’m always left wondering.
I’m always cognizant of the way I present myself in mostly white spaces. I think about who’s going to be there, what expectations they might have, how I talk about race and politics, what I wear, what my facial expressions are and how I am present. It’s a lot easier to notice my absence when I’m the only one or one of a handful of people of color at events. I listen to how people talk about people of color who are “difficult to work with” or Black women who “happen to be angry” or women of color in leadership who are “controlling”. I pay attention to these things and I choose to show up in a certain way. To be gracious and humble. To be witty and intellectual. To speak truth but wrap it in love so that it’s more palatable. Like most people of color, I live what W.E.B. DuBois called Double Consciousness everyday of my life. I know without a shadow of a doubt that there are at least two worlds that exist – the white world and the world of people of color. We have to translate language, social norms and behaviors in order to “fit in” and survive.
As details came out of Charleston last week, my heart shattered into a million pieces. At first it was simply because Black people were killed. Then it was because Black people were killed in their church home. Then it was because Black people were killed in their church home as they engaged in bible study and welcomed a stranger. Then it was because Black people were killed in their church home as they engaged in bible study and welcomed a stranger who was a white young adult. Then my world came crashing down around me as the news became public that the white young adult was a member of an ELCA congregation and that two of the people who were killed were graduates of an ELCA seminary.
It hit me like a ton of bricks: I am a part of a church that raises racist white people who then kill people of color who are educated in our institutions. That may seem like an oversimplification to some, but this truth broke what was left of my heart and I plunged into despair.
My thoughts began to swirl and I’ve literally had a headache for over a week.
I have been claiming a church as my own that’s not actually my church. My cultural practices and ways of being are not seen as authentically “Lutheran”.
I have been defending a church that has never repented of the systemic racism that is present within.
I have been leading within a church that is blind to it’s own white privilege and the ways that white supremacy work; that has a hard time actually naming racism as sin.
For the first time in my life, I felt like the church that I deeply love and has raised me was actually not my church.
As all of this was unfolding within me, I was scheduled to be at an event in an official role. I arrived to the event hanging on by a thread and being in a majority white community reminded me that as much as I want this to be my church with my people, that it’s not. During the opening worship of this event, I waited desperately to hear a word of lament; to share in communal grieving; to experience a moment of collective acknowledgement for what was going on in the world around us. I felt like the ground that I walk on had fundamentally shifted and that everyone around me was proceeding with business as usual.
In this moment, I posted my feelings on social media. I shared that I was at an event where we began with worship and I was looking at a shirt with the Palmetto Tree and Moon (images that are on the South Carolina state flag and license plates) and that it was ironic. Nothing was being said verbally about Charleston and worship went on without a mention, a moment of silence, a word. And it became clear that as much as I love my church and the people of my church, we can be so blinded by our inward focus and navel gazing that we miss crucial opportunities to actually show up.
This set off a bit of a firestorm. I later learned that my supervisor, who was also attending the event, was approached by leaders who were extremely upset by my post. The tension began to bubble up and I was set to address the group the next morning. When it was time for me address the community, I made mention to how I felt the night before and shared that I felt like, for the first time, this church wasn’t my church. I later found out that people felt personally attacked by my statements. I was called out for “being a public leader who should be careful about what she posts.” I was approached by a leader who said that they didn’t feel like Dylann Roof had accomplished his goal of creating a race war but that I made them feel like they were now in a race war due to my comments. I was told that I hurt the community deeply. I later found out that another person was asked to remove one of their tweets that was in response to one of my tweets and that “guests should be gracious in this space.”
I was told that I should give the community the benefit of the doubt because we are supposed to be allies. That I should wait to hear the community’s response to things at a later time in the event. That I didn’t understand how the community functioned. It was then intimated that we must not be in relationship because of what I’d done. This struck me because I never thought we weren’t in relationship. I thought that I was in a relationship that I could share how I was authentically feeling and that people would provide the space for that to happen.
It is inevitable that this post will cause more tension and conflict. But here’s one thing I know for sure – once you know the truth, it will set you free.
I am not in the business of hurting people. I am not in the business of being mean spirited or hateful. I am in the business of being authentically who I am and leading with truth and love. I shared my feelings and was then told that by doing so I disrupted a community. And I’m struggling with this. And you, dear shadow lovers, know what I do when I struggle. I write.
So this is my truth:
I am a Black woman called to leadership in a predominantly white church.
I will continue to call a thing a thing and speak truth.
I am not despairing because I know that many have gone before me who have endured much worse for much longer and kept the faith.
My hope does not reside in this church, it resides within the promises and power of God and the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
I still deeply love my church, in its varied expressions and with its varied strengths and its varied weaknesses.
In the midst of all of this, I can only think of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s words in hisLetter From a Birmingham Jail:
“I must make two honest confessions to you, my Christian and Jewish brothers. First, I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to “order” than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: “I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action”; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man’s freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a “more convenient season.” Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.”
I pray that as a collective body, as the church I desperately love, that we will continue to seek the truth so that we can all experience liberation and abundant life.
Originally Published Here: Embracing My Shadow
Featured Book:
Stand Your Ground: Black Bodies and the Justice of God
Kelly Brown Douglas
“If Trayvon was of age and armed, could he have stood his ground on that sidewalk?” – President Barack Obama
The 2012 killing of Trayvon Martin, an African-American teenager in Florida, and the subsequent acquittal of his killer, brought public attention to controversial “Stand Your Ground” laws. The verdict, as much as the killing, sent shock waves through the African-American community, recalling a history of similar deaths, and the long struggle for justice. On the Sunday morning following the verdict, black preachers around the country addressed the question, “Where is the justice of God? What are we to hope for?” This book is an attempt to take seriously social and theological questions raised by this and similar stories, and to answer black church people’s questions of justice and faith in response to the call of God.
But Kelly Brown Douglas also brings another significant interpretative lens to this text: that of a mother.
“There has been no story in the news that has troubled me more than that of Trayvon Martin’s slaying. President Obama said that if he had a son his son would look like Trayvon. I do have a son and he does look like Trayvon.”
Her book will also affirm the “truth” of a black mother’s faith in these times of stand your ground.
The author strikes a good balance between political theology and analysis. Names in the news, including Michael Brown, combine with her own personal perspective as a mother to give the narrative poignancy and timeliness. Stand Your Ground raises important spiritual and social questions. –Publishers Weekly
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Stand Your Ground: Black Bodies and the Justice of God by Kelly Brown Douglas purchase for $14.93
“If Trayvon was of age and armed, could he have stood his ground on that sidewalk?” –President Barack Obama
The 2012 killing of Trayvon Martin, an African-American teenager in Florida, and the subsequent acquittal of his killer, brought public attention to controversial “Stand Your Ground” laws. The verdict, as much as the killing, sent shock waves through the African-American community, recalling a history of similar deaths, and the long struggle for justice. On the Sunday morning following the verdict, black preachers around the country addressed the question, “Where is the justice of God? What are we to hope for?” This book is an attempt to take seriously social and theological questions raised by this and similar stories, and to answer black church people’s questions of justice and faith in response to the call of God.
But Kelly Brown Douglas also brings another significant interpretative lens to this text: that of a mother.
“There has been no story in the news that has troubled me more than that of Trayvon Martin’s slaying. President Obama said that if he had a son his son would look like Trayvon. I do have a son and he does look like Trayvon.”
Her book will also affirm the “truth” of a black mother’s faith in these times of stand your ground.
The author strikes a good balance between political theology and analysis. Names in the news, including Michael Brown, combine with her own personal perspective as a mother to give the narrative poignancy and timeliness. Stand Your Ground raises important spiritual and social questions. –Publishers Weekly
Kelly Brown Douglas is an Episcopal priest and professor of religion at Goucher College, Baltimore, Maryland. Her books include The Black Christ, What’s Faith Got to Do with It? and The Black Body and the Black Church/A Blues Slant.
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LikeTweetForward to Friend+17 Steps to Prepare for Hate Attacks
Tom Ehrich
It is time for congregations to develop protocols for responding to hate initiatives on their doorsteps.
As the intolerant lose any self-discipline in lashing out at others, we can expect a fresh round of cross-burnings, gay-bashing graffiti, and online vitriol. At an Episcopal church in Delaware last weekend, for example, worshipers returned to their cars to find leaflets attacking them for being an inclusive church.
Such incidents are happening throughout our deeply divided nation, as well as in European states dealing with ethnic diversity and neo-Nazism. If your church, or its denomination, is identified as being gay-affirming, performing same-sex weddings, welcoming women into leadership, collaborating with Jews and Muslims, or honoring racial diversity, including mixed-race couples, you can expect to be noticed and, increasingly, targeted.
READ ON...
7 Steps to Prepare for Hate Attacks by Tom Ehrich
It is time for congregations to develop protocols for responding to hate initiatives on their doorsteps.
As the intolerant lose any self-discipline in lashing out at others, we can expect a fresh round of cross-burnings, gay-bashing graffiti, and online vitriol. At an Episcopal church in Delaware last weekend, for example, worshipers returned to their cars to find leaflets attacking them for being an inclusive church.
Such incidents are happening throughout our deeply divided nation, as well as in European states dealing with ethnic diversity and neo-Nazism. If your church, or its denomination, is identified as being gay-affirming, performing same-sex weddings, welcoming women into leadership, collaborating with Jews and Muslims, or honoring racial diversity, including mixed-race couples, you can expect to be noticed and, increasingly, targeted.
Will that mean 100 hate initiatives, or a thousand, or a million? There’s no way to know. But being prepared seems sadly necessary.
Here are some suggested protocols for handling hate initiatives affecting your congregation:
1. Call the police. Hate crimes require investigation and prosecution, perhaps involving Federal authorities. Otherwise, victims become fearful, communities get divided, and the offenders accelerate.
2. Leaders must lead. Clergy and lay leaders must work as a team and get out front. The congregation needs to know that this is a safe place. No hysteria, no cowering, no secrets.
3. Take concrete action to protect the vulnerable, especially the targets of hate. I’m not thinking guns, but hugs, food, affirmation, safe places to stay — tangible reminders that they are a valued part of the whole faith community. Later, education and story-sharing. Even those who disagree with, say, being gay-affirming need to stand as one with the faith community, saying to all, “You can’t do this to us.”
4. Communicate, communicate. In every possible way, from newsletters to web blogs to telephone calls to open meetings to social media, get the word out: what happened, what it seems to mean, what actions have been taken, what will come next, how people can help.
5. Prepare a legal response. In advance, if possible, consult with an attorney on who can speak for the congregation, what can be said, how to cooperate with law enforcement, and what liability issues, if any, might arise. Have a plan ready.
6. Work with other congregations. If one congregation is likely to be targeted, so are similar congregations in your larger community. Talk it over with leaders of those congregations, including synagogues and mosques, in advance. Be prepared to stand together as a solid faith witness. I suggest you reach out also to religious leaders who don’t share your views or practices. Haters besmirch them, as well as you. It will help everyone if faithful people, across all lines, are seen as putting God above preferences.
7. Be not afraid. Hatemongers only succeed when they make people afraid. If people are determined to stay calm, united and self-confident, the hate initiative will fizzle.
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About the Author
Tom Ehrich is a writer, church consultant and Episcopal priest based in New York. He is the publisher of Fresh Day online magazine, author of On a Journey and two national newspaper columns. His website is Church Wellness – Morning Walk Media
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My Dirty Secret: On Racism in a Small Mid-Western Town
Jane Ellen Stillwagon
I have never told this story to anyone but my husband and God, but I’m telling it now. I realized after the murders in Charleston last week that the dirty secret I’ve been keeping is a part of the problem.
For many years I was the director of a preschool and childcare center. Over those years I got to know a lot of people in a little town, which I was not originally from.
Shortly after my husband and I had adopted our precious, brown skinned boy, I went to a large social event with all the folks who considered themselves’ to be important in the town. Many of the parents whose children I had cared for and taught were there. I was standing with a group of men and women, all of whom I knew fairly well, when it happened.
The party had gotten quite jolly. There was laughter and joking all around. The mood was happy and light.
Then, a woman I knew well made the most vile, racial joke I could ever have imagined.
READ ON....
Jane Ellen Stillwagon
My Dirty Secret: On Racism in a Small Mid-Western Town ~ JANE ELLEN STILLWAGON
I have never told this story to anyone but my husband and God, but I’m telling it now. I realized after the murders in Charleston last week that the dirty secret I’ve been keeping is a part of the problem.
For many years I was the director of a preschool and childcare center. Over those years I got to know a lot of people in a little town, which I was not originally from.
Shortly after my husband and I had adopted our precious, brown skinned boy, I went to a large social event with all the folks who considered themselves’ to be important in the town. Many of the parents whose children I had cared for and taught were there. I was standing with a group of men and women, all of whom I knew fairly well, when it happened.
The party had gotten quite jolly. There was laughter and joking all around. The mood was happy and light.
Then, a woman I knew well made the most vile, racial joke I could ever have imagined. The punchline was calling black children “nigglets.” Everyone laughed. They laughed like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard. A dozen people, who I had liked and respected, laughed at an evil joke about children of color.
I stood there, unable to speak. Her eyes met mine. The woman who told the joke was someone whose children I had cared for, and had helped to raise. I turned and walked away.
I had taken care of her children, and loved them like my own. She told a dirty, sickening joke about children like my precious-angel boy. It couldn’t really even be called a joke. It was a nasty, hateful, racial slur.
The solid ground beneath my feet cracked and shifted that night. Never again would I be under the illusion that this world is a safe place for my son to grow up in.
My child, so perfect and amazing and beautiful, was not a human child to her. He was a N***. And no one else objected.
I knew that it was a small, too-conservative, all-white town. But these people were church-goers and community leaders. They were educated in large, mid-western, public universities. I didn’t think they were like that. And here’s the kicker, the darkest, dirtiest part of it:
Many of these people were educators. The woman who made the despicable racial slur had a degree in child development and was the wife of a school principal. There were teachers in the group. They were shaping the next generation in the town. And they laughed at a sickening, dirty joke about children of color.
I’ve carried this within me as my own shame. As a stain on my soul. This happened and I did nothing but walk away. I think I’ve been as angry with myself since that night as I have been with that woman and the people who laughed along. I would give my life for my child, but I would not risk causing a scene at a party.
A few days after the party, a mutual friend came to me and said that the racist, joke-teller was worried that she had offended me. She told my friend that, “she shouldn’t have told that joke with Jane standing there.” But she expressed no remorse for telling the joke.
It’s been six years and I’ve grown stronger and bolder, but except for enrolling my son in a different school system, and disassociating from nearly everyone in that town, I’ve done nothing about my shameful secret. I can’t turn back time and confront her on the spot, as I have in my dreams. All I can do is to start telling the truth and to do things differently when it happens again. It will happen again.
There is poisonous racism among us, and I have been complicit by not speaking loudly against it. I have been too polite, and too afraid of conflict and rejection.
It’s time for me, for us, to speak it and name it, anywhere, anytime, to anyone who will listen. It’s time to take up this cross. As white Christians we are called to lift the weight of this burden from the backs of our black brothers and sisters. White Christians built this cross. We must stop keeping the dirty secret of racism in our communities, churches and families. It needs to come out into the light, where it may be confronted head on, until the day that it is eradicated. Thy Kingdom Come, to that small town and to our nation.
FacebookTwitterWebsiteEmailYouTubeVic. Hs. LeuOtjiwarongo, Namibia
Racism is structural violence.
Violence is the “take-away of someone’s life”.
Maybe step by step.
Share life is the contrary.
To be grateful is the solution.
To become grateful:
Learn to exchange “something” against a word.
There is only one race...the HUMAN race...
May all beings be free from suffering.
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