“So have no fear of them; for nothing is
covered up that will not be uncovered, and nothing secret that will not become
known.” (Matthew 10:26)
So have no fear? That’s a tall order,
Jesus. ‘Cause I’m scared, and it’s time I ‘fessed up to it. I’m scared of black
folks.
No, I’m not afraid of people who are
just as human as I am. I’m afraid of my own stupidity. I’m afraid, when I meet
a person of color, that I can’t be myself because I know that terrible things
have been done to people who look like the one I’ve just met by people who look
like me. I am ashamed by the fact
that I have enjoyed tremendous privilege which has been denied others just because
of the color of their skin. I’m embarrassed my own ignorance—the truth that I
can’t possibly understand this
society the way an African American or African Caribbean does because my eyes
don’t see what they see. I’m nervous about walking through the sacred space of
their shared pain in the dirty feet of my preconceptions and hypocrisy.
So I avoid the subject. I don’t talk about
race. It’s rather like avoiding the recently bereaved because you don’t know
what to say to them, and their sorrow just makes you too uncomfortable.
But then George Floyd is murdered, and we
watch his senseless execution on national television. We see it repeated night
after night and we can’t avoid the reality that there’s one hell of a problem
here in America. Just as Jesus told us in the Gospel appointed for Pentecost 3,
Year A (Matthew 10:24-39), that which was whispered is now being shouted. The
truth will always come out.
We can’t hide the brokenness of our
society any longer, so we might as well confess it. As Christians we have a
sacred obligation to love our neighbor and seek healing for all. We are to cast
out the demons that make our society so sick. The trouble is, we probably don’t
know how to perform such and exorcism.
For a small, mostly white congregation in
mostly white Northeast Philly, there may not be much we can do as individuals.
Nevertheless, what we can do, we should do. We need to gain knowledge
even when it puts us out of our comfort zone. We need to seek healing through
our democracy, asking our elected leaders to support fair housing, education,
and healthcare reforms as well as reforms in criminal justice and policing. And
we need to be able to talk about this as advocates to people whose minds may be
closed. No minds can be changed if they are never challenged.
We need to refuse to allow the whispered denigration
to pass without correction. We must speak the word of dignity aloud. As a
child, I often heard the “N Word” spoken by the parents I loved. As much as I
cherish their memory for the good things they taught me, I must now denounce their
racism. I will no longer allow that hateful word, that which came so freely to
their lips, to be spoken in my presence. I regret I did not have the courage to
take such a stand when my folks were living. Jesus warns that those who love
father or mother—or just keeping peace in the household—more than they love Jesus
and righteousness are not worthy. It’s a stinging rebuke.
Perhaps the most valuable thing we can do
in our local context is learn to listen to our African American brothers and
sisters and educate ourselves in the world as they see it. I think we at Faith Lutheran have an opportunity to do
this because of our relationship with the Beersheba Seventh Day Adventists who
share our worship space. We have been together for over three years now, and
their generosity contributes over $10,000 annually to our budget. However, we
have never gotten to know them. When the quarantine is over, it might be time
to break bread with our friends and listen to their experiences. It’s time to know
them as people and fellow Christians,
not merely as “those people” who use “our” building.
Let’s face it: as Lutherans, because of
our German and Scandinavian heritage, we remain the whitest denomination in the
United States.[i]
I recall a member of my home congregation in California looking at me in
incredulity when, during a Christmas break form the Philadelphia seminary, I
remarked that Emanuel Lutheran, my field education site, was 90% African
American. He was shocked that there actually were African American Lutherans!
Our estrangement from people of
backgrounds different from our own needs to end. We need to be educated and
learn to love and understand those whom we have misunderstood for too long. To that
end, I will recommend to the Worship Committee that we give priority to hiring
a person of color when we hire our new Music Director. It’s a small thing, but
it’s a start.
God be with you all.
[i] I’ve
heard, however, that more Lutherans will worship Jesus Christ this Sunday in
Namibia or Tanzania than will worship in Finland or other European countries where
Lutheranism was once the state religion.
No comments:
Post a Comment