01 March 2011

Speaking in Black History Month

Last month was Black History Month. Along with invitations from several African American communities, I was given the opportunity to speak at Bethel Seminary in San Diego. They invited me as the Black History Month speaker. I used to be better at accepting that invitation and then presenting the gospel in sermon.  But with my current title of Associate Dean for Black Church Studies at the Divinity School at Duke University, I am torn between which message is appropriate to deliver.
While the gospel is always and anywhere a timely message, it may be another year before some will look straight-on at the devastating reality born of racism. Still, I find it hard to expect that the mere reporting of historical practices of apartheid and segregation, oppression and discrimination, or exclusion and inequality will result in changed behavior. If so, the world would already be a very different place. Books line the shelves. The list of contributors is long: Frederick Douglass, W.E.B. DuBois,  Booker T. Washington, Benjamin Mays, Richard Wright, Martin Luther King,  Malcolm X, John Hope Franklin, Maya Angelou, Nell Irvin Painter, Nikki Giovanni, Valerie Bridgeman, John Perkins, William Pannell, Thomas C. Holt, Henry Louis Gates, and Cornel West. And that's only the names of those African Americans most would recognize. So many other scholars have provided a record of the wrongs, hopes, and possibilities on the topic of Black History. It’s not that the information is unavailable.

It may be the difficulty of trying to process the onerous information. How does one receive a history that rehearses repeated actions and attitudes of oppression and discrimination? Should the audience nod in agreement with the descriptions that indeed are horrific or shake their heads in dispute at the proposal they participate in such behaviors? Denial on the part of the listener suggests deceitfulness on the part of the presenter. Now both hearer and speaker take positions of defensiveness, each trying to maintain a semblance of dignity born of integrity. Feelings of antagonism give rise to the very division between so-called racial groups that the event seeks to dismantle. It is difficult to recognize the habits and practices I do without thinking are in fact perpetuating the very reality I think is wrong.

Or maybe, the problem is an unwillingness to acknowledge the institutional structures that enable continued division and misunderstanding across racial lines. Can we recognize the difficulty of supporting an economic system based on privately owned businesses when hurdles abound for African Americans whose access to financial backing and prime real estate was only insured less than 50 years ago? By then White America already owned and controlled the majority of this country’s wealth. As well-established businesses struggle in the failing economy, the harder hit will of course effect less established minority businesses. It is difficult to see that the very way we do things, the very way we've always done things, may in fact be wrong.

Can we acknowledge that most of our images of racial difference continue to actually characterize economic and intellectual difference? The projected Black culture continues to suggest aborted education, broken English, and deficit economics define the African American experience. Portrayals of affluence within the African American community seems limited to entertainers and sports celebrities. Condoleezza Rice’s status as an African American hero is criticized because of ideological differences and the disrespect of President Barak Obama too often suggests blatant racism as well as partisan politics. We don’t seem to know how to describe racial diversity within cultural sameness and won’t describe cultural difference without drawing attention to racial identity.

And there’s the rub. The very fact that I choose to speak of race in this blog, highlights the problem. I could have kept silent by writing only the paragraph below. But in order to truly wrestle with what we believe about the power of God to transform the world, I wanted to present a real conundrum. I use race because as a Christian, now living in the south, I am convinced that the most insidious effects of sin in our culture can be made evident in the practices of racism. Just as sin pervades human nature, racism permeates our culture. As an African American, living in the 21st century, I experience the effects of exclusion in the past as inequality in the present. And my experience of racism has been the least of all compared to most.

So I begin again.

While it may be another year before some will look straight-on at the devastating reality born of racism, the gospel is always and anywhere a timely message. I remain convinced that the transformation of this world will result only when the followers of Christ practice a radical Christianity of repentance, reconciliation, and justice.
That change will come only when the presence of the Holy Spirit enables us to admit that injustice exists in the way we legislate healthcare, grant citizenship, imprison lawbreakers, employ personnel, and educate youth. That change will come only by knowing the intention of God for his people to love their neighbors (and so-called enemies). That change will come only when we practice community as a living example of holiness. That change will come only when we in the church realize our practices of good are not civil or even moral responsibilities but demonstrations of what the world will look like when God’s kingdom comes on earth. And to admit that, to know that, to practice that, to realize that requires a scriptural imagination born of familiarity with the biblical revelation that in Christ God is actively reconciling this world to himself.

I guess that’s why I think it is always appropriate to teach and preach the revelation of God in Scripture. 



02 March 2010

A Little More




Far away there in the sunshine are my highest aspirations. I may not reach them, but I can look up and see their beauty, believe in them, and try to follow where they lead.
Louisa May Alcott 

01 March 2010

What kind of community are we?

"...[T]he most important social task of Christians is to be nothing less than a community capable of forming people with virtues sufficient to witness to God's truth in the world."          
Stanley Hauerwas, A Community of Character
At some point I found myself in agreement with this idea. I don't recall if reading it during my seminary experience created that 'aha moment' when words were found that captured my expectations, or if that early encounter shaped my future thinking. However it occurred, I find this notion of the church to be both an indictment and a challenge for the followers of Christ today.


I once told Brian McLaren (oh yes I did name drop) that my idea of church is something between the Catholic Church before Vatican II and waling into a Starbucks. I wasn't raised Catholic, but four years in aCatholic high school, along with three year of high school Spanish, prepared me to walk into Mass at Notre Dame with no knowledge of French and appreciate the service. After a few "Pater's" and "Jesum Christum's," I found my place in the familiar liturgy and knew exactly where I was through the gestures of the priest and the community prayer beginning: "Pater noster." When you walked in the service, you participated in the Mass. You knew what you were getting, and you got it.


Similarly, when I walk into Starbucks, whether in Lexington, KY or London, England, you know what you're going to get. The accent of the barista may be noticeably different, but the coffee will be the same. And it doesn't matter how I voted in the last election, who (or if) I'm currently dating, or what college I graduated from (or even whether I graduated!).  


I have to say somewhere between because I am not Catholic, so attending a Catholic Mass is somewhat voyeuristic for me. I am a spy gaining information; an outsider pausing to observe. Not so in the coffee shop. I may come for conversation with a friend, or to read the newspaper, but if I can't get my venti-americano-decaf I won't be coming back. And I am not going to ask to speak to the manager because they don't serve two-all-beef-patties-on-a-sesame-seed-bun.


I can't be so sure in the church these days if I will even recognize God, not to mention find a community I identify with. On the occasions I am a visitor, I quickly can tell if I could "belong" simply by observing the racial make-up of the congregation or checking my attire against those in attendance. Rarely can I expect a variety of music (think coffee or tea) and once the style of worship is revealed I still may not encounter the One to whom said worship is directed. God will be assumed and maybe pointed to with glowing modifiers that are rarely actively substantiated in a language familiar to someone born after the 19th century.


But I may well find out what the congregation is to think of the current administration in Washington, DC. I may get tips for balancing my budget or surviving my divorce (even though I haven't yet tried marriage). And whether the sanctuary seats 75 of 5000, I'll probably be able to close my eyes and sing songs as if there is no one in the world but me and Jesus. I can almost assume that, if the bible is referenced, it will merely serve as a spring board for the preacher's rumination upon the human condition: A clever phrase, seized out of its narrative context, serving as an existential reflection on the modern predicament by a sermon title and repetitive clause to make the sermon captivating; A promise without context providing the edge I require to work another week or return to class on Monday; An entertaining story introducing me to the preacher or her family, but the biblical story too often is sidestepped.


Such therapeutic-moralistic-deism has failed to form a community capable of being a glimpse of the good intentions of the Creator for the world to see. After years of seeker-driven church-growth strategies, the church can maybe claim a few well-intentioned individuals, but when the label 'unchristian' describes what contemporary society thinks of the church, we have a problem. 


Maybe my analogies are too modest. Our congregations are branded: contemporary; monastic; traditional; liberal; evangelical; conservative; missional; pentecostal; progressive - not to mention the denominational (and non-denominational) varieties. Still, after two millennia there isn't the idea that the church with all its out-posts might each cause the random Sunday morning visitor, or more importantly that Monday morning co-worker, to recognize that there is a God. And this God is up to something. And that something is good. And what they witness in this community is a glimpse of that good.


I wasn't sure about this idea of blogging. These gist of these random thoughts are wide open for criticism. Faulty logic notwithstanding, still I wonder, what kind of community are we?