Making a Miracle

On Sunday morning, I arrived and walked into the Chapel just in time for the processional hymn to begin. My messenger bag made a loud thump on the wooden pew as I hurried to settle in; I had planned to go to the library following the service. I secured my coffee mug, that I had snuck in, in the corner at the end of the pew and picked up my bulletin and began to sing along. I noticed as the Priests slowly made their way down the aisle of the church, that there was a guest priest walking along side of the Chaplin and associate Priest. I concluded just by watching the guest, that he was beaming with joy and his face was lit up, he seemed very loving, approachable, he carried himself with an abundance of peace and selflessness. Once the procession arrived at the altar, I noticed that he was dressed different than the other two priests and wondered what occasion would have him wear the puffy white blouse and brightly colored vest. This guest was Bishop Curry, he is an African American Episcopal Bishop from the diocese of North Carolina, he had been invited by the chapel to come meet the community and preach.

                The Bishop was given the difficult task of preaching a sermon on the scripture found in the book of Luke 16: 1-13, The Parable of the Dishonest Manager. The focus of his sermon was that God is in the business of “taking a mess and making a miracle.” When the Bishop summarized the parable, he compared the rich man and manager in the story to the white slave owner and African American slave in our country’s history. The manager in Luke’s parable would have been considered a slave to the rich man within that culture and time. He talked about the socio economic atmosphere of our country during the time of slavery. How the rich continued to get richer and the poor continued to get poorer. The Bishop compared the debt of the manager and the rich man’s debtors to the inescapable debts that permeated the African American race. He explained, that Jesus’ commending of the manager for redistributing the debts owed by his debtors in the favor of the manager was an exaltation and  Jesus praised him for his creativity. The rich man’s manager had figured out a way to be liberated of his debt. “God will liberate the weak from the injustice of the strong.” (27)  

“When Israel was in Egypt’ land,

Let my people go;

Oppressed so hard they could not stand,

Let my people go;

Go down Moses, ‘way down in Egypt’s land.

Tell ole Pharaoh

Let my people go.”

 Some of these Old Testament stories of people bound in slavery in Egypt are some of the first stories that the African American slaves learned about in America and these stories acted as seeds of new beginnings of the black Christian faith. (44,Paris) The manager from Luke’s parable had taken the mess that he was in and made a miracle. Bishop Curry also made reference to the tales of Br’er Rabbit. James H. Cone wrote that, “the tales of Br’er Rabbit and his triumphs over the stronger animals actually expressed black slaves’ conscious hopes and dreams of overcoming the slave masters themselves.” (56)

 In the book, “God of the Oppressed,” the author, James H. Cone paints the pages with descriptions and a contrasting of ways that black and white people think about God. (14) The thesis for his book states, "that one’s social and historical context decides not only the questions we address to God but also the mode or form of the answers given to the questions.” (14) Through his writing he describes how he is met with much opposition from white and black theologians. Cone introduces us to black theology and the liberation that came from the relationship and devotion by the African American to the heart of black theology, Jesus Christ. He walks us through some core characteristics of the black church; black prayer, humor, the Blues, spirituals and gospel songs, preaching, listening and emotionality.

One of the arguments against black theology that sought to undermine its central claim was that, “if God is liberating blacks from oppression, why then are they still oppressed?” I believe this question leads us into the heart of the metaethical problem. Cone answers this question by saying, “there is no answer to the problem of theodicy! Faith is born out of suffering, and suffering is faith’s most powerful contradiction. This is the Christian dilemma. The only meaningful Christian response is to resist unjust suffering and to accept the painful consequence of that resistance.”(x) I believe that the dichotomy that theodicy produces to be fascinating. If faith to some degree with certain people is produced through struggle and suffering then “we” must put the time in to explore the sources of people’s suffering. Cone articulates that with Jesus at the heart of black theology, we must ask, “What has Africa to do with Jerusalem, and what difference does Jesus make for African people oppressed in North American? “ (15) Jesus and the resurrection are the ultimate symbols of hope. Life’s hardships produce the desire and necessity for faith, while the resurrections that black Christians experience and identify each day, give them the strength to persevere and the steadfast hope to know that Jesus Christ is here among us.

As I sat with a priest one morning, I brought up the problem of theodicy. She thoughtfully responded that she did not have the answer to our world’s great travesties and sufferings but that she would share with me a story from a book she was reading. She was reading the biography of a holocaust victim. The victim depicted life within a Jewish concentration camp. There was one particularly devastating moment in the book where the writer is witnessing the torture of a child, the child was being hung and the community of people were made to watch the treacherous event. My priest said that the man in the story with a sorrow that is incomprehensible and hopelessness that penetrates down to the bone, leaned over to the woman next to him and said, “where can God be in this place.” The woman responded, “God is there on the platform, God is with the child.”

Going forward, I would love to spend time in a third world country learning about Christian theology through the immersion of a different culture and inter relational experience. Specifically I am interested in researching Christian theology in South America, Latin American Theology. I would like to learn about the development of and sustainability of faith in the context of people living in very urban environments and indigenous people living in the most rural villages in South America.

 

 

Works Cited:

Cone, James H. God of the Oppressed. Orbis Books, 1997.

Paris, Peter J. The Spirituality of African Peoples. Fortress Press, 1995.

When We Meet In That Place

In the first chapter of The Spirituality of African Peoples, the author Peter J. Paris, makes reference to W.E.B DuBois, African American scholar, “ DuBois and a host of contemporaries and successors similarly dedicated their professional lives to the goal of repudiating and eradicating every trace of systemic racism in America and around the world.” He clearly states that his purpose for this text is, “to concentrate on the peculiar world views of blacks in order to clarify their common basis for religious and moral discourse.” The ethical principle is, as Paris wrote, “The energizing and unifying power of those values was and is embodied in the thought and practice of African peoples everywhere. That power constitutes the core of African spirituality. The clarification of its character and, along with a plausible explanation of its transmission from the continent to the diaspora, is the first step in understanding the theology."

The argument made against African American scholars by the white American academy, scholars, racists and American Society was that study and representation of the “African” in African American culture was a waste of time and effort. They argued that African Americans had already generated a new life since slavery so it was not necessary to acknowledge and identify them with their African ancestry, languages, cultures, families, religions, tribes, spirits, spirituality, communities, ethics and morals. Paris discovers that, “The Ubiquity of religious consciousness among African peoples constitutes their single most important common characteristic.” What he found to be most profound and common within the African diaspora was that at the heart and soul of who these people were was their unwavering Faith.

How could the African American Christianity be anything but a pillar of strength? Peter did a beautiful job of illuminating the journey of Christianity for the black slave. In the preliminaries of slavery, the African American people rejected the Christian faith of their master’s religion. How could they believe in a God, whose people caused so much suffering, oppression, death and sadness? Christianity was gradually adopted by the black slaves. First, they identified with the Old Testament stories, parables and the covenant that God had made with the Israelites. Then, Paris describes that a pinnacle point for Christianity for the black slave was their introduction to the New Testament writings. The New Testament and story of Jesus Christ was a game changer for African American Christianity. African American Spirituality  merged with their new understanding of Christianity; woven together there was now hope, freedom, liberation, reconciliation, preservation and an authentic gospel.

One of the details that really resonated with me in Paris’ writings was his depiction of the Invisible Church, “this Christian vision was born in slavery, protected in the so-called invisible churches that emerged in the secret meetings of slaves. There was no safer place for the new black Christian congregations to meet than the swamps. He writes, “those secret meetings became the locus for the development of an alternative understanding of the Christian Gospel which the slaves celebrated and proclaimed in many and varied ways.” One of the first things they did during these meetings was to, “ask each other how they feel, the state of their minds.”

In the midst of casual conversation over lunch with another Divinity student, we exchanged casually about events that occurred over the weekend. When I asked her, how her weekend was, she responded in a devastated tone, “well, it was fine until I saw the faces of a couple of my students on the news.” She explained that she volunteers her time at a High School in East Nashville; within the realm of an after-school mentorship program seeking to serve the needs of at-risk, inner city students, most of whom grew up in or around the East Nashville housing projects. She followed up by saying that she saw the faces of two of her students that she had mentored last year on the news; one was being accused of a serious gang-related crime and one for murder, potentially also, gang related. She explained that both young people are bright, ethical, display strong moral, respectful, African American in race and goal-oriented. She identified and expressed her overwhelming heart-break, abundant disappointment, confusion and also, over- arching fear. The fear was fed by and accompanied by questions of, could these accusations be unlawful or false in nature? , what does this mean for their futures? , did they forget that they are beloved children of God? , how could young people with such strong characteristics be affected by gang violence? , I thought that with adequate support, nourishment, shelter, love, education and positive relationships they could overcome the difficult circumstances that they were born into?

            That same afternoon, I went to my part- time job at an after school program in West Nashville. The afterschool program is a faith-based ministry, seeking to serve the needs of the children and youth living in the Preston-Taylor housing projects. When I stepped out of my car in the parking lot, I noticed that the children had delayed descending from the steps on the bus. As I got closer, I could see a crowd of children gathered around a space on the sidewalk and another staff member with a look of sheer panic on his face sprinting towards the crowd. By the time I realized it was a fight between two children, he was already there pulling them off of each other. He grabbed one child, while I took the other boy by the hand and we separated them. The boy that I was holding, kept trying to get away from me. When he did escape, the other children surrounding us would hold him; they told him things like, “man just let it go, let’s deal with this in another way.” I am overwhelmed by the fact that in our society, we have third and fourth graders reacting to conflict with violence. I am equally as shocked, that we have elementary students versed in conflict resolution.

The cinder block, windowless building that houses the after school program reminded me of the swamp where the African American slaves gathered for their church meetings. The children come to the youth center to be fed by the Holy Spirit, to be told that no matter your circumstances, no matter what is happening to you out there, you are safe here, you are a part of this community and we are all enduring the life that goes on out there together. Much like the Invisible Church, they break bread, pray, worship and sing together. Then , they go back out into the reality of their worlds, to the reality and possibilities of poverty; growing up with only one parent or maybe one grand parent,  going to bed with an empty stomach,  living in a neighborhood where it’s not safe to play outside, a traditional, less-than adequate education system, violence, drugs, gangs, teenage-pregnancy and truancy. This after school program works to give children the resources that give them courage, strength, reaffirm their self-worth and provides experiences for the growth of self-esteem. Provide hope that will help them sustain the injustices, struggles, suffering and know that, like their African heritage and African American Christianity has already taught them; God is the creator, preserver and liberator!  I see that strength and hope that is at the heart of African American spirituality in our children today. African American spirituality in combination with a committed community that’s aim is to eradicate racism and promote equality and social justice will provide God inspired hope to our young people.

 

 

The Imprisoned Soul

                                            

William Edward Burghardt Du Bois paints “a portrait of black culture,” in his text, The Souls of Black Folk, published in 1903. He defines the piece by describing its content as a mixture of autobiography, history, social documentary and lastly an anthropological field report. He draws the “gentle” reader in by saying “if read with patience may show the strange meaning of being black.” The strokes of this portrait are rich with facts and stories about what emancipation meant to black people, the daily struggles of black peasantry, how slaves were a source of strength to the confederacy as laborers and producers, the Freedmen’s bureau, Booker T. Washington’s Atlanta Compromise, the Abolition Movement, the Revolution of 1876, evolution of black schools and Universities in the South, the economic roller coaster,  when “the keynote of the Black Belt was debt”, Emancipation and that “Slavery was indeed the sum of all villainies, the cause of all sorrows, the root of all prejudice.” The welcome that the black race received before even arriving to this country was one of complete disregard for their humanity.

                Slavery is the means for which humanity actively participates in “sheer barbarity” of which “deafens us to the wail of prisoned soul within the veil.” In the Souls of Black Folks, the ethical principle that is not present within the text is the granting of dignity, respect, grace and “boundless justice” from one human being to another. This absence of dignity and respect created a world of cruel suppression and of incredible acts of violence, rape, murder, degradation, disrespect and ultimately for the gains of white American humanity. The metaethical problem illustrated was that human beings used human beings at the expense of their very souls; for power, pleasure, pride, wealth, prosperity, social status and labor. Du Bois illustrates white humanity stripping the souls from the Negro people. White human beings did not regard the Negro person as a “throbbing human soul” or as God’s beloved children. The Negro slaves were brought into our country to serve the needs of the white persons at the expense of their souls and sometimes lives.

                White Americans treated the Negro people in a way that left their brothers and sisters in a place where they could not fathom what truth was, who they were in the bare feet of their own souls, who God created them to be and knowing what was right became intangible. For them, it felt as though pure existence meant that the darkness out weighed the light; when God’s child cannot be himself, because his or her sense of self was taken away by another human being. This quote by Du Bois best describes how the world should and could be; “Sometime, somewhere, men will judge men by their souls and not their skin.”

The repercussions of the acts of violence against the black race took away their self- confidence, self- worth, ability to dream and hope, to marry, drove them to believe that they are “the negro problem,” ability to live outside the realm of suffering and poverty, to own land, to escape bankruptcy and to exist without fear. Their life experiences taught them that they will amount to nothing, they should give up goals and aspirations and most importantly the hope for freedom and justice in their worlds and lifetime. The writer references the worth of the Negro individual living in the South; “To-day it makes little difference to Atlanta, to the South, what the Negro thinks or dreams or wills.”  Du Bois portrays the Negro as the soul that longs to ask the question of God’s existence and what God’s purpose is for the suffering Negro life. Many actively sought peace within the institution of the Negro Christian Church, sending them searching for what was true, right and good.  

When we stop looking into people’s eyes and listening to their words, stories, joy, sorrow, seeking out the context of their lives, who they are, what they believe in and what they live for, through the information that we gather;  we are responding with descriptive and normative ethics and are silently condoning violence, poverty, homelessness, racism, discrimination, sex trafficking, sexism and many more of our society and world’s way of thinking and acting that strips the souls from human beings.  Du Bois wrote, that we live, “in a world where it means so much to take a man by the hand and sit beside him, to look frankly into his eyes and feel his heart beating with red blood; in a world where a social cigar or a cup of tea together means more than legislative halls and magazine articles and speeches.” He also wrote, “the opening of heart and hand of the best to the worst, in generous acknowledgement of a common humanity and a common destiny.”

What I learned most from this text is that I cannot let other people define what living truth means to me and as Becca Stevens best said it, we have to stop ourselves, “when they become “them” and we become “us” and ask really who are “them?” Du Bois offered these encouraging words to the Negro people within the text, that “to attain his place in the world, he must be himself and not another.”

Over the weekend, while I was reflecting on “The Souls of Black Folk,” my path met a homeless man in a coffee shop. When I first saw the man with his stack of bags and sleeping bag, I stopped myself from making assumptions about who he is and his past. I hoped to pour into his soul within our short lived interaction with compassion, kindness, humility and gratitude. After we shook hands, I reached up to my face to push my hair from the perimeter of my white face and I could smell the tobacco from his cigarette on my fingertips. What kinds of burdens was this man carrying with him? Was he living behind the veil and was he searching to reclaim his soul? I immediately wanted to wash my hands of the scent of stale cigarettes, the dirt, the sorrow and humiliation that I saw in his eyes. I wanted to wash off the way that I judged him, his bags of dirty clothes, the odor of his body when he brushed by my table, the umbrella sticking out of his back pack, my wild imagination and curiosity of where he had slept that night, where he would rest in safety tonight?, where was he from?, how long had he been living on the streets?...was it because of substance abuse or something worse. I believe that it took a community of people to get him there and I was an active participant; through my actions and thoughts or lack of. What had I done recently to act against violence, to provide a meal, shelter, to believe in someone or pray for someone different than me? Du Bois text has me searching for truth and social justice in my own life.

This reflection left me interested in learning more about how the last hundred years have affected the presence of “the veil” and how other races, genders, cultures, religions, tribes, ethnic groups experienced the same internal, permanent, life-long effects of the veil?