BLM Immersion Reflections

The week of the anniversary of the death of Michael Brown Jr.,clergy, scholars, seminarians and activists had this to say...

[blmimmersionreflections]

NOT LOOKING AWAY

By Karen Edge

 “Once you see it, you can’t unsee it. And once you’ve seen it, keeping quiet, saying nothing, becomes as political an act as speaking out.” Arundhati Roy

  This course quickly introduced me to “deep, abiding” love; a love that is not just a feeling, but an action. Our instructors Rev Renita and Rev Sekou laid at our feet all the tools we needed to participate in this movement. They expertly unraveled for us the work required for our transformation as each day progressed and built upon the next. They made it clear to participate was the individual’s choice alone. Deep within each of us we had to decide whether we were going to take up our cross and walk alongside our comrades.

My journey of transformation began during course preparation. The required pre-class readings, particularly the intensely disturbing DOJ Report and ArchCity Defenders White Paper resulted in several sleepless nights. These reports were so disconcerting they triggered reading memories from long ago detailing atrocities perpetuated on victims in Nazi concentration camps. As I read the DOJ report, a question kept running through my mind, “where were all the “other people” who could have stood up and stopped this injustice?” This same question had haunted me long ago when reading about the Holocaust. It then dawns on me. I feel nauseated from the realization. I have been like the “other people” from the Holocaust, those who turned a blind eye to the heinous crimes going on around them because it was not their fathers, husbands, sons, daughters, and mothers who were being unjustly locked up and killed. A similar atrocity has been and is occurring right in my own backyard and I too have looked the other way. Convicted is too mild of a word to describe how I felt. I have been woken to the fact that the mothers in our city have been crying for their babies, weeping with lament and praying for justice. I can no longer sleep soundly in my bed knowing innocent people are being murdered by our justice system without impunity. This course has opened my eyes. I can no longer look away.

I would like to highlight the most vivid encounters for me during this course that set the path for my long overdue awakening. The first was the introduction to the mighty powerhouse for God that is the inspiring person of Rev Renita Lamkin. Renita introduced me to the Bible story of Rizpah. Through Renita’s powerful exegesis of Rizpah’s compelling story of speaking truth to power, the message that deep abiding love often requires action was made crystal clear. As Renita put it, “there comes a time when silence is violence and resistance (action) is holy.”

             The second critical epiphany occurred as a result of our training for militant non-violent resistance. When I pulled into my driveway that night after the long day, my head was aching and my heart was racing.  Words of warning from Rev Sekou echoed in my head, “The police don’t play in Ferguson” and “What are you willing to lose??”  Sekou insisted over and over during our training that we must be prepared for the worse. Teargassing, rubber bullets, broken bones, incarceration for an unknown period, all these things and more were possible. Holy Shit. This. Is. Real. What have I got myself into???

I wrestled with God all through the night.J Words of commitment and love from my teachers and fellow students kept being repeated in my mind and heart. “Deep Abiding Love,” “I am on the side of Life,” “Stand where God wants you to stand,” “Pray with your feet.” “No Justice. No Peace. No Racist Police!“ “It is our duty to fight for our freedom. It is our duty to win. We must love and protect one another. We have nothing to lose but our chains.” In reflection, I feel that night I was literally fighting for my soul. I wanted to turn back. I wanted to close my eyes and forget what I had been shown. But I just could not. And, truth be told, I was half way through the course and needed this credit to graduate in the spring. So I was determined to finish.

            Thursday brought us to the St Louis Old Court House, the Dred Scott Trial exhibit, and a visit to the Griot Museum of African History. We watched a movie about the Middle Passage. The faces of the African men, women and children, packed into deplorable conditions for months on end was too much to bear; all I wanted to do was look away. But, the faces on the screen would turn and look directly into the camera as if to say, “Do not look away. Repent and make restitution for these brutal, inhumane acts; acts still transpiring today in your own backyard.”

Moral Monday came, and I was still not sure what I was going to do, but when it came time to march, I marched. And there was a power in that group of protesters; an electrifying power that was palatable. I felt in my bones that Jesus was walking among us; demanding justice for his people; the weak, the oppressed, those treated unfairly and unjustly by systemic racism. This course provided me this “sacred space” among my fellow protesters to actually experience walking and being with the Resurrected Christ.

I have a lot to “undo” because of my white privilege.  I realize now I have been complicit in systemic racism. As Peggy McIntosh has pointed out in her working paper, White Privilege and Male Privilege, many of my cherished beliefs have to be torn asunder. I must give up the myth that the “system” is fair and merit-based. It is not. Doors have been opened for me because I am white that have not been opened for my brothers and sisters of color.  

McIntosh says white privilege is an “elusive and fugitive subject.” White people are taught to avoid the fact of our privilege at all costs otherwise the world as we know it would have to change. And so it should.

In the1999 iconic American sci-fi action film The Matrix, the future world is controlled by sentient machines that have created a software-simulated “dream world” called “The Matrix”. All humankind is plugged into “The Matrix” to prevent discovery of the horrific apocalyptic reality of their lives on earth.

A small band of rebels have discovered this ugly truth and recruit a computer programmer named Neo, played by Keanu Reeves, to enter into their rebellion against the machines. However, to fully engage in the rebellion, Neo must make a choice; he must decide to completely let go of his known false world, a world that provides him with status and sweet oblivion of the horrors going on around him and trust that the rebellion will be the road to a beautiful transformation for all creation.

Neo’s decision is based on choosing a red pill or a blue pill from the hands of his mentor Morpheus. If Neo chooses the blue pill he returns to his safe, false world. If he chooses the red pill Morpheus tells him an adventure awaits him; “you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes.”

Metaphorically, this course has laid out for my consideration the choice of taking the blue pill or the red pill. The choice has been mine to make; no harsh judgments, no love withdrawn regardless of my decision.

I am anxious and excited to find out where the next chapter of Wonderland will unfold. J

Karen Edge

[blmimmersionreflections]

Communing With My Ancestors

By Tracey Wolff

Communing with my ancestors. That’s what it felt like as we broke into song at Christ Church Cathedral:

Oh freedom, oh freedom, oh freedom over me

And before I’ll be a slave, I’ll be buried in my grave

And go home to my Lord and be free

I knew the song. I had sung the song in church over the years - probably during Black History Month. But this time, as we sang it the second and third time, a wave emotion hit me. Tears began to roll down my face. I could see these faces; the faces of my ancestors who had passed: my father, my aunts and uncles, grand parents and great grand parents. I knew them. I was remembering them.  And I was remembering the stories they shared about being black in America during their time.  But there were these other faces that stood out to me. There were faces I did not recognize, but somehow I knew them. They were my ancestors who had endured slavery, those who had survived the middle passage. The great cloud of witnesses in Hebrews 12:1 had suddenly come to life and they looked like me. They were with me in spirit in a way I had never experienced before that moment.  All of them had fought the battle for freedom in their own ways during their life times and here I was entering into that continuous stream with them.  

The tears were tears of anger and sadness. I was angry at myself for being blind by choice for so long; angry at thinking the struggle was over because I had grown up in enough affluence and privilege to be shielded from oppressive systemic practices. The tears were also mixed with sadness; sadness about the need for black people to still fight for freedom.

There was a hint of pride as well. I felt proud to take a stand and not worry about what anyone else might think about my participation in a Moral Monday and  BLACKLIVESMATTER protest. I felt pride because those faces in the cloud of witnesses were calling me  into the battle with them and they were proud of me for being present.

All of these emotions started stirring as I  read the ArchCity Defenders: Municipal Courts White Paper because it dealt with the municipal court system where I live, North St. Louis County.  The practices were described as effecting the lives of African Americans disproportionately. I imagined many of my neighbors were caught in a fining and ticketing system in which I could afford not be caught. I had lived a version of the circumstances described but my outcome was different because of my combined income with my husband.

I drive through Moline Acres , Bellefontaine Neighbors, Jennings, Pine Lawn, and Wellston to and from work daily. About 3 weeks after I started my job 2 ½ years ago, I began receiving multiple tickets in the mail for cameras located along my route to work. Turns out there were 5 cameras on the route, one in each municipality, and I was hit by all of them. I paid them as they came and I was angry about the amount of money we had too spend out of pocket. I knew the cameras were problematic and had since been removed, but as I read the White Paper, I realized how much bigger and systemic the problem of municipal fines actual was in my own community. I became angry as I read story after story about people being caught in the system to the point of losing job and homes.  

Each day of this class my anger and sadness grew more and more. They continued to build the day we walked into the first exhibit room at the Griot Museum. All I could see were these black legs in this small, hot, dark room, coming from below an upper deck filled will other black bodies jammed together in an area set up to look like a slave ship. I knew they were just mannequins, but this exhibit made me angry because it made me connect the history of our people to the reality of too many of our people still today.  

As we watched a documentary at the museum about the middle passage, there was a scene where more hot and sweaty black bodies were lined up to go dance for and entertain the white crew of the slave ship. More anger mixed with sadness began to well up in me as I pictured the lines of black sweaty bodies standing outside of a courthouse waiting to entertain today’s crew of white people in power at any given municipal court on any given day in North County.

On the Anniversary of Michael Brown’s death, our class participated in a March that began at the site of his death. I stood looking at the space where his body laid for 4 ½ hours; a space now covered by asphalt that looks like a bad pothole patch job. More anger and sadness.  I looked around at how many apartment balconies faced this space as I listened to and Iraqi woman share how familiar the scene was to her. You see, bodies were frequently left in the middle of the street for all to see during our nations war with her country.  

I remembered our interaction with Vonderitt Myers’ cousin at the site of his death. I remember how this young man described the senselessness of the shooting, the number of bullets from the policeman’s gun, and how no other bullet shells were recovered from any other gun except that of the officer. I remember him describing how Vonderitt had re-enrolled himself in school by walking a pregnant friend to school everyday and making the decision to stay with her.

So there I was on Moral Monday... in a cathedral filled with people of all ages, every gender identity, every culture and every hue, who have just undergone training on nonviolent resistance where I played the role of a police officer.There I was and there we were singing a song I knew. I was singing at the top of my lungs and meaning them for the first time in my life with a cloud of witnesses in the flesh and in the spirit singing with me:

Oh freedom, oh freedom, oh freedom over me

And before I’ll be a slave, I’ll be buried in my grave

And go home to my Lord and be free

[blmimmersionreflections]

Still Actively Processing

By Sandi Everson Bus wishing to justify himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” Luke 10:29 Enrolling in this class was by happenstance, I was enrolled in the class somewhat of this nature that was to take place in June, it was cancelled. I was enrolled in the music immersion class that was to take place in July, it was cancelled. I needed a 3 credit course to have enough credits to be considered full-time, so things on our summer calendar got rearranged in short notice. I was put on a waiting list, and received confirmation July 24th, that I would be in the #Black Lives Matter class. Upon driving home August 10th I realized duh, God had a plan. I did not really have my head wrapped around what this class would have in store for all of the participants, but it did not even take a full first day to learn quickly, that it would contain more than I ever could have envisioned or expected. The content, experience, wisdom, pain, ignorance are only a few categories to and extensive ongoing list that I am still experiencing so much filtering going on in my brain to begin organizing and processing, literally. My head is reeling, but this is good, working to roll stones to find information I did not realize before I wanted to know. Through out this a few quotes, questions, passages keep circulating such as: Who is my neighbor?, What am I willing to Risk?, White Privilege, Serve the least of these, Light that should shine so each person knows you are sent by your creator, I am Mike Brown, Whose Streets, Deep abiding love………. These are just what pops out of my head as I write this, but the list in my notes as I sort is endless. None of this is said to excuse or remove the fact, that yes I am processing and yes working on action steps to hold myself accountable. When Rev. Sekou told us that churches would not bury black people shot by the police, that just hurt. As he went on explaining helping all of us to think through that process and the hierarchy of the church as to how this could possibly be true. A light turned on for me that enabled me to see the parallel connection to our justice system, and how we the church has failed. This past semester, I took a class with Professor McCann called, “Greening the Bible”. Within our first weeks reading assignment, I vowed to begin a new daily mantra of, see each person I come in contact with each and every time, each and every day as a child of the same creator as myself, what is this person’s strength and work to help empower them on God’s intentional path of greatness. With that being said, I fail on this mantra each day, I still work to make this a habit, but have much growth to achieve. Reminding myself I don’t have to agree with views, opinions, decisions of this person, I just have to know God placed this person in my path for a reason, show this person I am a child of God, I need to exude God’s love and light as Pastor Renita told us. This person should know there is love inside of me, placed there by my creator, I am here to serve, what do you need. This past year stepping out of my comfort zone has occurred many times, but with this class, I have learned uncomfort is ok, it is good, poke, stir, agitate, lean on God when unsure, scared, unskilled; get over myself and just do it. Teach and serve, serve and learn, help to educate, remind myself of my own white privilege and keep moving forward. This disorganized writing, is how my brain is playing every day right now, my husband looks at me at times and asks me at times, if I am ok, if I need to talk, if he can do anything, what am I thinking. My response many times is spoken through tears, many times, I have no words to describe what is playing out in my brain. As I read more of the articles and books from the class, it is opening more knowledge than I have ever had on this subject, and I am so truly and completely grateful and ashamed that it took this to open my eyes. Yesterday I preached at my home church as my minister was on vacation and I decided to preach to begin the conversation in my all white congregation about Black Lives Matter and the movement. I put together a power point, because there a few things in my opinion that are key in this education: pictures to see the pain, pictures to identify everyone as a person with a face instead of a nameless category of people or persons, and relating this to who is my neighbor. In this process there were pictures of Tony Robinson, from Madison, and his parents, putting a face to his name, showing him in a suit going to prom, helping to educate Tony was somebody’s son, who they will not ever see again and Tony has a story too. Adding facts to pictures that were not shared by the media, pointing out would a movement such as this bring a person out to participate if it was their child? Who would they expect to protest, or speak out with them if it was their child? Shedding light on the fact that we are all God’s children, what does God expect of us when we know God’s children are hurting? I do want to organize my brain, but right now I have to recognize the power of my brain that is not quite ready to sort or whatever, or maybe it won’t be; but I have to work through and move in a forward motion finding my niche while working not waiting and sitting back until it appears. As a member-in-discernment with the UCC church, my SW Association, Church and Ministry Committee is working on my Contextual Education placement for this fall here in Wisconsin. I have been offered 3 churches, 2 all African American congregations in the Baptist faith, 1 is primarily Caucasian congregation of the UCC/Protestant denomination. This class along with the past year, has helped me to know that I need to serve outside of where I am comfortable, learn more to help educate. In writing this blog, I see the words I, me, my used more than I wanted to, and makes me look at this and wonder is that about power, or privilege or what? I do value each of you, and thank God for this class our powerful leaders, Pastor Renita and Rev. Sekou along with many many others. Sharing class space and presence with people across this country is awesome and hope to encourage reaching out in this way is a powerful learning tool. The gift shared in telling stories, helping to bring forward lament and teachings of how our system has failed and how so many of God’s children are ignoring what we (God’s children) know is happening, blocking it out, participating in it, pretending it isn’t my neighbor as if we don’t know who my neighbor is. I am praying with my feet and with my hands and heart to strive out of my comfort zone to teach who is my neighbor by example. God’s love and blessings, Sandi

[blmimmersionreflections]

"I Was Blind But Now I See"

By Youvette Bland

When I decided to take this class, I wasn't sure about what to expect. My desire to learn more about the Black Lives Matter movement was the driving  force and motivation  for me to take the course. As I recall the events that took place immediately following the killing of Michael Brown on August 9, 2014, the from the peaceful protest to the militarized police forces that tear gassed and brutally used excessive force to contain the crowds chanted/lamented verbiage that they could not stand to hear.

I am grateful for the opportunity to be in the Black Lives Matter class engaging with my classmates.  I gained so much from my experiences at the Wellspring UMC Church.  The Community Leadership Empowerment Symposium  was of great significance to me because I was truly empowered to become an agent of change. The plenary sessions gave, especially the "Unity in Christ through Diversity and Inclusion", presented by Rev. Sheila Bouie Sledge as well as Rev. Renita Marie Lamkin's presentation on "Holy Resistant: When Silence Isn't Sacred "

Sharing the meal at MoKabes Coffee House was quite insightful.   The presentations on the theologies of protest, lament, and resistance  were helpful in explaining  theology from those perspectives. The discussion on lamenting  by Rev. Karen Anderson was very moving for me.  Rev. Sekou's presentation at the coffee house about the theology of resistance was a significant in understanding the importance and the necessity of pursuing justice for Black lives in a manner that I had not known before hearing his presentation.

While I had seen so many images in the news about the horror of the riots, looting, and the burning of buildings, there was no comparison of the magnitude of devastation during the first few months after Michael Brown's killing as was revealed in the documentary captured by Darnell Singleton.

I gained so much insight form the assigned readings. I believe the faith community has had an impact in the past on various issues relating to injustices imposed on African-Americans but has not had the impact,  perhaps they should have on the issues specifically related to police killing unarmed people and the Black Lives Matter movement.

I believe there are a few in the African-American faith community (that is, the ones who are not afraid to lay down their lives for others) have had a positive impact on the movement in response to the events of August 9, 2014 by spreading the word and taking a firm stand for justice. Unfortunately, for  the number of African American churches in our area, that are far too few giving the support that can produce a greater positive impact. I believe if the faith community is to be what scripture calls for regarding justice, we must certainly become more engaged and become instruments of change that truly bind the broken hearted.. It is quite apparent to me that the church has to become life and be the church, that is to be demonstrative and not dormant.

The readings on The Arch City Defender White Paper that focused on a number of St. Louis County municipalities and The DOJ Report that focused on the City Ferguson revealed several unjust practices against African-Americans. The law enforcement efforts focused on generating revenue rather than protecting the citizens The law enforcement practices were a blatant abuse of power. The unlawful practices have gone unchecked for too long. The reality is that the municipalities have practiced slavery right in our faces and for some reason we didn’t seem to recognize it as such. It concerns me that the unlawful practices have existed to such a vast degree that they have become the norm and even ore disheartening they have become accepted practices. It deeply concerns me that prior to reading these reports; I never clearly understood why my brother, who lives in the city, was so animate about not visiting me at my home in the county.  I shed tears over the very idea that these practices have caused my brother to miss family events at my home.

The things that triggered anger and outrage for me from the Grand Jury investigation were statements that minimized the intensity of the pain expressed by Michael Brown's mother. On pg 40 the reported information indicated that the informant was not listening or paid no attention to what the mother was saying.  It appeared that what she was saying was irrelevant and ignored.

My expectations for the course were: 1) I wanted to gain a clear sense of what my place is in the movement toward justice . 2) I wanted learn about establishing methods for bridging faith and activism. 3) I wanted to acquire a better understanding of what the appropriate theological response should be relative to the lack of justice regarding Black lives.

By the end of the class I gained a very clear sense of what my place is in the movement toward justice.  I came to realize that while I had concerns about being on the front line of protesting, there are many ways I can lend support as Mama Kat did by cooking food, having it available for the people on the street.  I learned that Mo gave great support availing her coffee shop to the protesters.

As I came to know the actions taken by Mo and Mama Kat,  I realized as a person of faith that I could engage in similar ways in order to bridge faith and activism.  For some reason, given the era of my upbringing, I was only aware of activism being in the street with signs and protesting by using confrontational  action.  I had not been aware that using demonstrative  actions to show support was activism as well.   I learned the importance of simply being present and standing up for justice was considered activism.  It was just as important to be out among the people to offer hugs, handshakes or simply letting the people voice their concerns and assuring them that they are being heard.

 I came to know as a person of faith, one who preached the word of God, for me to be involved  in the movement to stand up for justice is what God expects of me. My involvement  in the movement is imperative  and being involved is the appropriate theological response relative to the absence of justice regarding Black lives.  Assembling myself in the church building, talking about how sad it is to see Black people in the struggle and merely praying for God to keep the people safe from harm in their protest just won't do.

Overall, I gained more from having the many experiences that the Black Lives Matter had to offer that I could have ever dreamed. My participation in the actions that took place on Moral Monday was a phenomenal experience for me. I was grateful to have served as a jail support activists.  My life is forever changed regarding social justice.  I have clearly come to understand that it is my duty and responsibility to be a catalyst for justice. Theologically, I believe this is what God expects of the people who are called by His name.                                   

[blmimmersionreflections]

“Fuck the police!” Jer. 22:13-14

By Korla Masters

Epiphanies do not usually come to me in the expected way – the “oh, duh!” moments when I see something new that I should have been seeing all along. Before the memorial parade from Canfield Green to Normandy High School on August 8, I had made pretty good theological peace with “fuck the police!” as an important chant. What I hadn’t done was check it against my reading of scripture. To lean on our friend the Methodist Quadrilateral, my embrace of FTP was based entirely on tradition, reason, and experience, and scripture was just along for the ride. Something happened, though, as we walked (and walked) up West Florissant toward Lucas and Hunt: somehow the scales fell from my eyes and I heard myself thinking, “Holy shit! ‘Fuck the police’ is so biblical!” (When I do have more traditional epiphanies, they usually start with “Holy shit!”) As I sat in the wake of that realization – which I know I am coming to later than many – I really wanted to figure out why it works so well.

In order to decipher what I mean by “'Fuck the police’ is biblical,” I needed a better sense of what FTP means to me, both as a theological thinker and as a queer white person with law enforcement officers in my family of origin and people of color in my family of choice. It gets tough, because FTP isn’t all that specific a line. “Send the killer cops to jail” is easy to visualize; “fuck the police” less so. Based on our lectures and conversations about lament, it strikes me that “fuck the police!” might function similarly to “woe to you!” in the Hebrew Bible. Neither includes an exact recipe for fulfilling God’s vision for justice, nor an exact description of the injustice committed; rather, both of these phrases act as vessels for much larger and more intense anger and pain. This is what makes them so powerful and so threatening to powerful interests.

“Woe to you” and “fuck the police” are not gentle phrases of polite negotiation. They are harsh indictments of massive miscarriages of God’s intention for creation. In a setting in which even an indictment was too much for the legal system to offer, with “fuck the police,” God steps in and lays down her own indictment, using our voices and angry souls to convey her heartsickness.

The second significant realization I had in considering the biblical basis for “fuck the police” is that FTP calls out idolatry, which is a primary purpose of prophetic writing and speech. Where the Exodus narratives and the Covenant Code sketch out an image of what it might mean for God’s people to act like they belong to God, the prophets rail against and lament the ways in which the people do just the opposite. The prophets unveil (pun intended) the choices Israelite leaders made between God’s economy of abundance and justice and an economy that served their own financial advancement. The prophets are clear: when you operate this way, you choose that which is not God over God. You choose idolatry over worshiping the God who brought you out of Egypt. Then, as now, to practice idolatry is to break all the commandments at once.

In our setting, FTP specifically names and shames a system in which cities are built on the backs of those who can least afford it. A system that passes on even a secular manifestation of justice in order to enrich a few, most of whom are outsiders to the community, cannot expect to evade critique for ever. It doesn’t require even a very creative reading of Jeremiah 22:13-14 to hear that the pattern exemplified by municipal court and police structures echo through millennia. How can anything but “Fuck the police!” be the proper response to municipalities that build a few individuals’ wealth through unrighteousness and rob neighbors of their livelihoods?

I admit that calm, tension-free family reunions are an alluring prospect. I like my family. But I’ve never seen the Reign of God in action at my family reunions. I have seen small glimpses of it in the midst of crisis and protest. When Food Not Bombs lays out a spread for 15,000 people at Ft. Benning, Georgia, every November, that looks like God’s Reign to me. When the adults in a little fishing community in El Salvador, where I used to live, come together to teach their kids about joining the guerrilla forces and life as war refugees, that looks like God’s Reign. When three clerks were killed at the Somali grocery around the corner from my home, and my segregated home neighborhood finally came together for a few days, that was a painful glimpse of God’s Reign – one that any one of us would have readily traded to get those three men back. When Karen Yang grabs an about-to-be-arrested demonstrator she doesn’t even know and yells, “You can’t have him, he’s my brother!” and doesn’t let go, that certainly has an “on Earth as in heaven” look about it. But none of those glimpses get to stick around, to hold their space on Earth, if I choose the Masters/Hulteen family reunions over the protest family reunion. That is, if I choose calm over God. Because I have seen it, I can’t simply let other people voice condemnation of what hold the Reign at bay.

To be white is to have the option of unchallenged idolatry. Even to be white while queer is to have the option of amnesia that amounts to idolatry – to see police marching in Pride parades and not remember that police were there at Stonewall, too, and not in an invited capacity. So when I join with others chanting “Fuck the police!” I am saying it as much to myself as the police. I am in need of prophetic disturbance as much as any law enforcement officer. Like good biblical prophecy, it is not a one-and-done need to hear; it is constant and evolving. But the prophetic disruption that “Fuck the police!” offers allows me – and, I pray, allows police, in some way – to catch the glimpses of God’s Reign that the protest family reunion offers, day in and day out.

[blmimmersionreflections]

Late & Wrong

by Nicole Moore I signed up for the Black Lives Matter immersion course, because the murder of Michael Brown by officer Darren Wilson did something to me- it woke me up to things I had been ignoring (some intentionally and some subconsciously) for my entire life. The year that  followed was one of anger and sadness and frustration and feeling embarrassed and ashamed and confused. As I sought to call into question the white supremacy from which I greatly benefited, I was left with more questions than answers.

What can I do? Why is talking about this making all of my white friends so mad at me? When did this start? How does this end? Why don’t people want to talk about this? Why won’t people talk about this? What am I supposed to do? What is the role of the church? Where is the church? Why isn’t my church talking about this? Do I even know what I’m talking about? Is it okay that my church mentioned Ferguson a few times, but never once mention Vonderrit Myers or Eric Garner or Tamir Rice or Sandra Bland?

Enter in a group of classmates from Eden, some new friends from Pacific School of Religion, and my new friend Sahar from New York. Enter in our fearless leaders- Rev Renita Lamkin, Rev Osagyefo Sekou, and Marquisha. Enter in those who we learned from- from KB to Elizabeth Vega, from Cornell West to Dr. Leah Gunning Francis. Enter in a lot of reading and a lot of driving and not a lot of sleep.

For the week, I decided to set most of my questions aside, and to simply ask: what now? As a faith leader and future clergy person, what now?

I was struck by how many churches had been silent since August 9th, and it didn’t sit well with me, but I couldn’t articulate why (at least I couldn’t articulate why with any theological grounding and without getting angry). But then I heard Renita talk about Rizpah at Wellspring. Rizpah, who resisted power, who protested injustice- while the priests were nowhere to be found, complicit. It sounded an awful lot like what I’d seen in St. Louis since Ferguson. In the words of Renita, “There comes a time when silence is violence and resistance is holy.” The truth in her words stuck with me throughout the week. The churches I know that are remaining silent are doing so because they “don’t want to hurt or offend anybody,” but they don’t realize that their silence is an act violence. They’ve got it all wrong. I was left with a new question: are you willing to lay your whiteness on the line?

The next day we heard from Rev. Sekou, and I found myself scribbling down notes at the speed of light to keep up with what he was saying, hoping to catch just a part of what he was fearlessly proclaiming. “The church showed up late and wrong in Ferguson.” I wrote that line over and over in the margins of my notes throughout the week, thinking of ways that I had seen the church show up. I had seen pastors speak on the news who had probably never been on the streets of Ferguson. I saw churches donate water for protests, and then scramble desperately to find someone willing to drive the water down to the people. Yet, I knew that there was another story we weren’t hearing much about- I knew that my Dean had sat outside a police station for hours trying to get young people out. I knew that there were clergy in my city who were spending more time on the streets of Ferguson than in their offices or behind their pulpits.

I heard the necessary role of the clergy in this movement repeated by our leaders and by others- it was to stand in solidarity with the young people who are leading the movement. It is to care for them. It is to stand behind them and defend them. The role of the clergy is not to do a new thing- it is not to gather a group of people who dress more respectably or who don’t cuss or who don’t proclaim ‘fuck the police.’ The clergy aren’t supposed to lead this movement.

In the words of Rev. Sekou, clergy people have three roles in this movement. First, to be a pastor- to ask how people are doing. To care for people. To make sure they’re taking care of themselves. Second, by being a priest...to perform rituals at protests and to bury the dead (because nobody else will). And finally, to be a prophet, or in the words of Sekou, “To tell the empire ‘fuck you.’ Don’t touch our children”.

With all of this (and much more) ruminating in my mind, I found myself praying with my feet on Moral Monday. I welcomed the opportunity to put what we had been learning into action, and to participate in holy resistance. I could write a 1000 word reflection on Moral Monday alone, but I found myself answering my own question from the beginning of this class as I was chanting with hundreds of my brothers and sisters who had shown up to put their bodies on the line. “It is our duty to fight for our freedom. It is our duty to win. We must love and protect one another. We have nothing to lose but our chains.”

And so, I think that’s the role of clergy people in this movement- to stand behind and alongside the young people of this movement until we win. To put everything on the line (including our own bodies like Rizpah and our whiteness) until we win.

Once we’ve heard that an unarmed black person is shot by police every 28 hours, or once we’ve read the Arch City Defenders report and know of the corruption and injustice that exists in the municipal courts, or onnce we’ve read the Grand Jury Report and hear Darren Wilson demonizing an unarmed teenager, we must realize that we have to do this work until we win.

Unfortunately, the church still continues to show up late and wrong. I was reminded of this when I showed up to march with a large group of United Methodists in Ferguson a few days ago. They were on the streets for less than 20 minutes, because they were uncomfortable. They didn’t like the things that we were chanting (I cannot have sympathy for someone who is more upset with saying ‘no justice, no peace, no racist police’ than they are about the fact that there are racist police). They were more comfortable with power (talking to mainstream media sources and the police) than they were with the people who they were supposed to be there to support. I don’t think that they had been asked what they were willing to lay on the line, and in the midst of my anger and embarrassment, I also felt a deep sense of gratitude for this class.

There is work yet to do.

[blmimmersionreflections]

It’s the Theology, Stupid! Darryl Commings

“And the king will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.’” (Matthew 25:40 NRSV)

As I pause to reflect after this immersion class experience one thing has become clear to me as an underlying strand that manifests in Ferguson, Missouri and all the Fergusons everywhere.  It is easy to see that we have a political problem that manifests in disparities, militarized policing, voter disenfranchisement, and so on.  However, I have come to see that the problem is not one of faulty politics. The problem lies with faulty theology.

Let me clarify my point.  By theology I am claiming belief systems and practices that reflect on the nature of humanity; interpret scripture (i.e. holy texts); define justice, right behavior, and right relationships; and the nature of the Divine.  I contend that a theological breakdown results in flawed reasoning, diminished capacity for compassion, and developing systems of systemic injustice.

Let us start with the biblical stories of creation.  The version first composed was the Genesis 2:4b-25, which was written during the time of the United Monarchy in 10th century BCE. Although the “adam” in this version is pre-gendered, the Hebrew word “adam” is masculine and is normally translated as “the man.”  Furthermore, the primordial female is created from the primordial man, thus giving her secondary status.  This verse is most often quoted to support patriarchal supremacy.  By contrast, the creation story of Genesis 1:1-2:4a was written by the priests during the Exile and showed that the man and woman were created simultaneously by God, with both being made in God’s image and declared good.  Notice how the Genesis 1 version is born out of the strife and suffering of the Exile; it is a reflection of hard won lessons born out of alienation and set as a counterpoint to the narrative of Empire.  We are one in the eyes of God and because we are God’s children we are all good.

Supremacy in any form begins by assuming that one group is “more good” than another and is thus entitled to greater rights, privileges, access to material wealth, and so on.  We have seen one instance above where patriarchy is reified.  To see oneself or a group as superior to another can be seen as playing God (I am indebted to our instructor Rev. Renita Lamkin for this idea). It is to claim the power of God for oneself to decide who lives or dies; who is protected and who is not; and who is due justice and who is not.  We find example of such failure in the unholy alliance between right-wing Christianity and the Nixon administration (whose example was followed by the Reagan administration).  It is here where we see the significant uptick in mass incarcerations based on policies that assumed certain people were just born bad and are not worth saving.[i]  This alliance between flawed theology and public policy has been integral in the creation of prison pipeline where whole industries have arisen around incarceration for non-violent crimes.  The additional benefit of this ritualized prison pipeline is that the convicts would also be disenfranchised from the political process.  The statistics speak for themselves.  Those most affected by this heinous policy are people of color and the poor.

The unavoidable issue regarding flawed theology is the issue of racism. Racism is not a matter of one person’s prejudices, but it is a collective belief system of racial superiority reified by institutional power.  Some have attempted to use the Hamitic curse of Genesis 9:25 as justification for racism.  However, this theology is based on a blatant misinterpretation of the text and its context. Others have claimed passages about slavery as license for racism.  And yet, those who would use the bible to support their racist agenda conveniently ignore Moses leading the Israelites out of Egypt, the prophets, and Jesus. It is a willful blindness that racism engenders and foments; this willful blindness is idolatry in action which certainly contradicts the very first commandment.  This willful blindness of racial superiority is not benign at all but deeply insidious and poisonous to the human soul.  

Let us be clear.  It is not a matter of simply holding prejudices against people of other races but there is also the ability to affect policies to enforce the bias.  In other words, racism is inseparable from classism or any other “ism.”  For example, both the Arch City Defenders (2014) and the Department of Justice (2014) published papers detailing the abuses of policing, ticketing, and fines in Ferguson and other municipalities in St. Louis County.  Both reports detail how African Americans are disproportionately targeted by aggressive policing and ticketing.  The Arch City Defenders report goes in depth to show how these practices create a negative spiral of affecting employment, income, and housing. It is clear that all these interlinked systems flow from a flawed belief in the superiority of white persons over persons of color.  Scripture makes clear that these racialized belief systems are rooted in idolatry and deny the fundamental claim of goodness for all of God’s creation.  

If the problems noted above are theological in nature, the response should also be theological in nature.  The first tenet of a hopeful theology would be that God hears and responds to our laments (I am grateful to Rev. Karen Anderson who spoke to our group on a theology of lament).  It is God who tells Moses on the mountain that the cries of the Israelites from Egyptian mistreatment have reached God’s ears and that God would deliver them.  We hear the lament of the people in the streets. We hear the lament of Tony, the cousin of VonDerrit Myers, who came unexpectedly to speak to our group as we gathered around Myers’ memorial site.  We hear because God hears.  And God calls us into action.

The second step is to reclaim a robust theology of the prophets (e.g. Jeremiah 22:3-5 and Isaiah 28:17-18).  The prophetic voice speaks to empire and all its minions.  The prophetic voice announces that the forces of idolatry and supremacy break the covenant between God and humanity.  It is a call to repentance and accountability when the protesters shout “Fuck the police” because the bonds of trust and accountability have been broken.

Finally, we must recall a theology of Jesus as freedom fighter (with gratitude to Rev. Osagyefo Sekou).  This is a Jesus of Luke 4:18-19 who publicly stood on the side of the poor, the captives, the blind and oppressed in order to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.  At great personal risk he proclaimed his message in the synagogue while those present-the Pharisees, Sadducees, and the well-to-do Jews of the day-that his message was not for their benefit but for the outsider and the marginalized.

“THIS IS WHAT THEOLOGY LOOKS LIKE” is one of the chants heard in the street protests.  And they are right.  The time is past when we allow Jesus to remain on the cross instead of leaving an empty tomb behind.  We keep Jesus on the cross when we allow flawed theology to continue unchecked generating the systemic suffering we see in Fergusons in Missouri and everywhere. It is time to follow Jesus the freedom fighter into the streets and proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.

[i] Balko, Radley (2013-07-09). Rise of the Warrior Cop: The Militarization of America's Police Forces (p. 142). PublicAffairs. Kindle Edition.

[blmimmersionreflections]

Do All Lives Really Matter?

By Kristi Saviers

The movement and associated hash tag “Black Lives Matter” has sparked a debate in 2015.  I have heard friends, family, celebrities and politicians respond by saying, “All lives matter.”  We want all lives to matter.  

We also want an end to hunger.  We want an end to racism and discrimination.  We want world peace.  But, we are caught up in our every day lives.  We are so distracted by immediate needs, that we fail to see the injustices around us.  We worry about ourselves more than the community around us.  In his book “The Dangerous Act of Worship,” Mark Labberton refers to this as “sleepwalking.”  Labberton sums it up by saying:

“in the face of global need, if we can’t do everything, we can’t do anything. We are paralyzed, inert” (Labberton 2007, 15).

In our sleepwalking, we say things like, “There isn’t racial injustice in my town.  There isn’t racial injustice in my church.  We are diverse.  We love the diversity.”   We also say things like, “All lives matter.”  

Do All Lives Matter?

Ok, I’ll bite….  Do all lives really matter?  Hillary Clinton said that all lives matter while sharing an anecdote about her mother while in Ferguson, Missouri on June 24, 2015.  Context is everything, so let’s look at the full quote.

Clinton said, "I asked her, 'What kept you going?' Her answer was very simple. Kindness along the way from someone who believed she mattered. All lives matter.” (Keith 2015)

I see.  So the life of Dorothy Howell Rodham mattered to someone.  Dorothy’s life was by no means easy, if you read her story.  But, does her story mean all lives matter, or just the lives that matter to us?  

Which Lives Matter?

Does James Holmes’s life matter?  Holmes is the convicted killer of 12 people at a movie theater in Aurora, Colorado on July 20, 2012.  He was sentenced to life in prison.  Eleven out of 12 jurors thought he should die, and the lead prosecutor said, “It is disappointing and frustrating” that Holmes didn’t get the death sentence (Gurman 2015).    

We have evidence that many people think Holmes’s life doesn’t matter. Is this example too provocative? Ok, let’s try another.

VonDerit Myers Jr, was an 18 year old killed by an off-duty cop. Officer Jason Flanery went into Myers’s neighborhood “to see who the players (were) for the night” and said that groups of loiterers often commit crimes (Byers and Currier 2015).  Flanery took it upon himself to start chasing some kids who ran away when they saw him. He then shot Myers 8 times (6 from behind). We now know that Myers was wearing a GPS device and couldn’t have been one of the kids that Flanery chased originally.  But, the officer thought Myers had a gun and said Myers shot at him. Whether or not Myers did have a gun, did shoot…. or didn’t, really didn’t matter to the prosecution.  According to the prosecutor, Flanery had probable cause to chase Myers in his own neighborhood and probable cause to shoot Myers dead (Byers 2015).   It is a living cop’s word against a dead black kid’s.  

Flanery’s life matters, and Myers’s life didn’t.  We have a lot of evidence that police lives matter.  We honor fallen officers and have put in place measures to ensure their safety.  Fran Healy from the Philadelphia Police Department said this:

“Officers’ safety comes first, and not infringing on people’s rights comes second” (Balko 2013, 333)

The verb “police” used to mean “to watch over or monitor the public health and safety”  (Balko 2013, xi).  Now it means “to control and keep order in (an area) by the use of police or military forces”  (according to Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary).  Police lives matter more than public safety.  

What about drug pushers and addicts?  Do their lives matter?  In 1982 under the leadership of Carlton Turner (President Regan’s drug czar), during the War on Drugs, the lives of drug addicts and traffickers were said to be “beyond redemption”  (Balko 2013, 142).  This was a turning point in our history, when we moved away from rehabilitation and toward prosecution of drug use and trade in a full out war.

We’ve spent billions of dollars ever since to lock up users and dealers, hitting the African American population the hardest (Green 2015, 94).   During a visit to the St. Louis County Justice Center on August 7, 2015, the sole chaplain there shared a statistic that 93% of the individuals being held at the facility were there on drug related charges.  Every one I saw in a cell that day was African American.  Do the lives of these drug users matter?  

Wait… what about River Phoenix, Heath Ledger, Amy Winehouse, Whitney Houston and Philip Seymour Hoffman.  These lives tragically ended from drug use. These lives mattered, right? Roughly 100 Americans died the same day that each of these celebrities did (Pollock 2014).  We don’t know their names.   Do their lives matter, even when we don’t know their names?

In the U.S. we use SWAT teams to raid the homes of drug pushers.   This is a growing trend where police seize property and even shoot dogs while trying to rid the United States of drug addiction.  Killing dogs during drug raids is routine practice and the police are almost never charged with wrongdoing (Balko 2013, 290). If an officer fears for his safety, and he kills a pet, it is rarely questioned.   Do the lives of animals matter?

Cecil the Lion’s life mattered, right?  It isn’t right that Minnesota dentist Dr. Walter Palmer lured him from his home in the game park on July 1, 2015 and shot him dead.  It is a sin to not honor creation in this way.  But if a dog is in a house where there is some weed, then his or her life isn’t as important as Cecil’s.  

Let’s recap…. It is evident that police lives matter to us, as a society. The lives that don’t matter: murderers, black teenagers who commit crimes or who we expect to commit crimes; drug addicts (unless they are important enough that we know their names); pets (if the officer fears them, or if they are in the cross fire of seizing drugs).  What about prostitutes and the mentally ill?  What about Sandra Bland, Michael Brown, Zachary Hammond, and Christian Taylor?  Do their lives matter?  

Let my people go.  

When we say “All Lives Matter,” it falls flat, because it isn’t authentic.  That is what I am illustrating with this blog.  It is like saying that the lives of the Egyptians who pursued the Israelites mattered (Ex 14:26).  We know Pharaoh made slaves of the people, didn’t listen to God (even when God sent 10 plagues).  But, Pharaoh still fed people sometimes and gave them water.  Pharaoh’s life mattered, too (Ex 14:11).  Right?  

Why is it so hard to say?  Black lives matter.  How many times did Pharaoh say no to God?  How many times did Moses tell Pharaoh, “Let my people go!”?  One, two, three… five… seven…eleven times?  (Ex 5:1, 7:16, 8:1, 8:8, 8:20, 8:21, 9:1, 9:13, 9:17, 10:3, 10:4).  Too many times.

This is not a gray issue.  It is a black and white issue.  Whose side are you on?  Is your heart hard like Pharaoh’s?  Wake up from your sleepy haze of status quo systemic injustice.  There is racial injustice in your town.  There is racial injustice in your church.  

Dorothy Howell Rodham’s life mattered to someone.  That is what kept her going, according to her daughter.  Until black lives truly matter to us and until we believe in these lives the way that someone believed in her, we will struggle. The black community will continue to suffer.  We must believe that black lives matter.

Works Cited:

Balko, Radley.  2013.  Rise of the Warrior Cop:  The Militarization of America’s Police Forces.   New York:  Public Affairs.

Byers, Christine.  2015.  “No charges against St. Louis officer who killed VonDerrit Meyers.”  St. Louis Post-Dispatch, May 18.  Accessed August 15, 2015.  http://www.stltoday.com/news/local/crime-and-courts/no-charges-against-st-louis-officer-who-killed-vonderrit-myers/article_5641ecfd-4b37-54c1-b717-1a7d84500892.html

Byers, Christine and Joel Currier.  2015. “St. Louis police release report detailing shooting of VonDerrit Myers Jr.”  St. Louis Post-Dispatch, May 19. Accessed August 15, 2015.  http://www.stltoday.com/news/local/crime-and-courts/st-louis-police-release-report-detailing-shooting-of-vonderrit-myers/article_9d5119af-a75c-5f5b-bf12-38561f47088a.html

Griffin, Christi M. 2013. Incarcerations in Black & White: the Subjugation of Black America. St. Louis, MO:  C. Griffin Publishing.  

Gurman, Sadie.  2015.  “DA: Theater shooter’s life sentence came down to 1 juror.”  AP wire, August 14.   Accessed August 15, 2015. http://news.yahoo.com/da-theater-shooters-life-sentence-came-down-1-211114981.html

Labberton, Mark.  2007.  The Dangerous Act of Worship:  Living God’s Call to Justice.  Downers Grove, IL:  IVP Books.

Keith, Tamara. 2015. “Hillary Clinton’s 3-Word Misstep:  ‘All Lives Matter.” NPR, June 24. Accessed August 14, 2015. http://www.npr.org/sections/itsallpolitics/2015/06/24/417112956/hillary-clintons-three-word-gaffe-all-lives-matter

Pollack, Harold. 2014.  “100 Americans die of drug overdoses each day.  How do we stop that?”  The Washington Post, February 7. Accessed August 15, 2015.  http://www.washingtonpost.com/news/wonkblog/wp/2014/02/07/100-americans-die-of-drug-overdoses-each-day-how-do-we-stop-that/

[blmimmersionreflections]

Wake Up!

By Regina Gray

Today ended a weeklong immersion course on Black Lives Matter taught by Rev. Renita Lamkin Master of Divinity, and the Rev. Dr. Osagyefo Sekou. Both of whom brought a wealth of insight to our class. The class included several of my colleagues from Eden Theological Seminary alongside six other new colleagues from Pacific School of Religion in California, headed by their Prof. Dr. Sharon Fennema, we engaged in an intensive twelve to fourteen hour day class. We began with breakfast at 8a.m. and ended as late as 10:30-11:00 a couple of evenings. We learned things about one another and our families that could only come through this type of engagement from sun up to late night weariness.

The week began with several readings of books and articles to set the pace of discovery of clear bias injustices perpetrated against a race of people, my people. Which quickly ignited deep rooted anger. A lot of the information was not new for me, because I try to stay current and look deeper than most for understanding, yet it still made me quite angry. Why would I allow the information in these readings to set me so deeply on edge? Maybe it is because how I can’t give hope to someone else, when I can’t see it for myself. I know that God is real and present because otherwise the intended genocide of my people would have been accomplished over a century ago. Because like the saying goes “When they tried to bury us they didn’t know we were seeds”.

One of the major articles which also was no surprise came from Peggy McIntosh “White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Backpack”. The impact for me was that this white woman made a conscious choice to recognize and number some of the ways her whiteness has allowed her unconscious benefits, as well as unacknowledged privilege. Also that her schooling has reinforced these privileges. Which I tried to explain to my colleagues on our trip to the Old Courthouse in downtown St. Louis, when I stated that part of breaking this cycle must come in early childhood learning of not just White students but for Black students also. Because we as Blacks unknowingly subscribe to slave-master relations in dealing with White people as well. Whenever Whites are present we assume they are running the show. First power is given to the White male if present, next the White female and only if no other race is present then and only then will we acknowledge each other’s possible authority.

A prime example of this came into play for me this week on several occasions when interacting with my Black colleagues, straight up to and including Moral Monday, which for the sake of this piece I will not speak about until I have had an opportunity to first speak to my Black colleagues personally. It is very hard to speak truth to powers when the oppressed are unaware of their oppression. I say this because the majority of Blacks in St. Louis seemed unaware of the depths of their oppression until here lately, and some are still unaware. Then on top of that sadly enough some still choose to keep the blinders on. I say that because we still have us saying dumb things like “they are destroying our town”. Wake the Hell up, nothing here is yours. That is why they meaning White law enforcers can come in with military gear to tell you to go home you have a curfew. You are not a part of the “our” town because you own nothing there, not even your house. Stop paying the taxes and you will see who owns it.

I started with the Grand Jury Report, I purposely perused that first because it was so lengthy that I figured I could go in and out of it here or there. But it quickly became sickening to my spirit. It like most governmental bureaucratic mess in this country was a bunch of wordiness, more than likely designed to wear people out. I found myself feeling “some kinda way”, about Bob McCullough like I do when he shows up on the television, sick in stomach. From this report to the “Ferguson City Report” to the “Arch City Defenders: Municipal Courts White Paper” all these reports were somewhat draining before the class really even got started. Yet I plunged through these papers as any other good student searching for a ray of hope for a system that was not designed for equality because it is rooted in White supremacy and dehumanization of my people.

Then the “Rise of the Warrior Cop” by Radley Balko that further confirmed the militarization of a wicked American police force. After the so-called war on drugs during the Reagan years the use of more militarized equipment became more acceptable for mainstream White America who had their hands in the cookie jar in other ways. We must be conscious that every aspect of any war is revenue for some large conglomerates in this country. So although most Americans believe that war is costly it makes a small percentage of Americans quite wealthy, as well as maintaining the “System”, a beast all of its own.

The speakers and presenters this week were awesome to put it mildly. From those in the movement to those interpreting and assisting in the movement. We found that all persons can play a role in this uprising against spiritual wickedness in high places. If it is protesting, making calls, writing poetry or making signs, maybe preparing a meal or just bringing cold water, there is something that all people can do, if they are the “Called” of God.

Pastor Traci Blackmon made such a prolific statement that I feel a need to include it in my blog she said the statement came from a friend but it seems to fit; “Your need to know does not create in me a need to educate”. Wake up White folks you benefit daily from keeping the “empire” in power, as evidenced by McIntosh’s “White Privilege articles. Therefore, don’t think for one minute that you get a pass because you didn’t know. I will not allow you to continue to use me as your token “see I have a Black friend”.

Wake up Black folks you don’t get a pass for not knowing your own history or for allowing White America to write your narrative. Our neighbor has been crying for way too long. “Get yo life”, and start loving your own Black selves first and foremost. I came into the course praying that it would not be about Black Folks helping White folks be okay with where they stand on what has been a problem for my people for centuries. Because this whole action is not an option nor is it a choice. The fact that I am Black has dictated a course of events for my life. Rather I choose to engage or not our children are being killed daily at the hands of those we pay to serve and protect them. Then I wonder, why are we still paying salaries of what clearly appears to be the “New Millennial KKK”?

[blmimmersionreflections]

We gon’ be alright!

By Dorothy Cherry

“I am no longer accepting the things I can not change.  I am changing the things I can not accept.  Dr. Angela Davis

I initially took the “Black Lives Matter” course for the 3 credit hours towards my M.Div degree, however, the knowledge, experiences, people I’ve met along this journey and the things I’ve been able to bear witness to have been priceless.  And as someone once said “trouble is that once you see, you can’t unsee it.” My eyes have been forever opened.

On August 9, 2014, Michael Brown, an unarmed African American teenager was shot to death by a white police officer in the Ferguson Police Department AND left on the street for 4 ½ hours for the entire world to see.  It was a painful reminder of the public lynchings that James Cone wrote about in “The Cross and the Lynching Tree” where the lynching of black Americans was a public spectacle, and attracted crowds of up to 20,000.”

When we say Black Lives Matter, we are talking about the ways in which black people are deprived of basic human rights and dignity. It is an acknowledgement that black poverty and genocide is state violence.  In the wake of the recent killings of unarmed black men and women by police, and the failure to prosecute the killers, the message being sent to black communities is that we don’t matter and that we are “disposable.”

When people say “All Lives Matter” they effectively neutralize the fact that it’s black people who are fighting for their lives and equal rights now.  The Arch City Defenders White Paper and The Department of Justice both concluded “There is a distinct pattern of racial bias in Ferguson Police Department” which sparked outrage nationwide and a national debate that accompanies it showing that Ferguson is systematically and violently prejudiced against black residents.

The Black Lives Matter movement is a “lament” – it is a “crying out,” and a complaint to God for the oppression and discrimination that we are still made to suffer.  Pastor Karen Anderson reminded us that God attends and responds to the cries of His people.  Black Lives Matter is a “lament” to God that emotionally, psychologically and even spiritually, Blacks have been unacknowledged, unseen and cast aside.   What we have seen in recent and continuing assemblies, marches, vigils and protests is an open mourning or “lament” for those whose lives have been cut short without cause and brutally extinguished.  

In Romans 13:1-2, the Apostle Paul writes, “Let every soul be subject to the governing authorities.  For there is no authority except from God, and the authorities that exist are appointed by God.”  However, when there is evidence of state supported violence, protesting the actions of a police department and government that are operating outside the jurisdictional limitations – it is not wrong for the people to call them into account.  Dr. Martin Luther King said, “A riot, is the language of the unheard.”  The night after Mike Brown’s death, Ferguson erupted in civil unrest; businesses were burned and others were looted.  Protests call attention to a wrong and an injustice; consequently, protestors and clergy began “praying with their feet” in full awareness that they are breaking the law to address and bring national attention to the injustices.

One of the most powerful moments of this class for me happened on Thursday, August 6, when Pastor Renita took the class to the Old Court House downtown. There she dared to not only occupy the space in the Rotunda, but disrupted the space as she spoke powerfully and passionately about systemic racism and white privilege.  She was so eloquent and passionate, that it caused some people passing by to stop and listen.   She also enlightened the class on the need for “agitation,” “instigation” and “poking” as an effective means to arouse public interest and call attention to the injustices and inequities leveled against people of color.  Jesus was seen as an “agitator” by the religious leaders because he dared to go against the status quo and consequently was murdered by the empire.  He spoke truth to power and was crucified for his calling out the wrong doings of the government and religious leaders.  

Every place we visited, every speaker we heard, every sacred conversation for this class was a powerful reminder that Black Lives Matter is not a moment, but a movement in an ongoing civil rights struggle for basic human rights against those who are unwilling to relinquish their power to oppress.  

           Prayer is an effective form of protest and can change people’s hearts, minds, procedures and policy. “When the people march in Ferguson, in Clayton at the Justice Center, on I-70, downtown, and other places, in effect, “our feet are praying.”

           The faith community’s role is reconciliation to a dark and dying world and to bring cohesion, hope, provide a bridge between law enforcement and protesters and provide safe space.  Also faith communities don’t speak for the protestors, but with them.  Clergy is their resource.  State agencies want to engage clergy as calming, but we are theological agents – we stand with protestors – not over and against them.  Our job is to engage people around a conflict and provide a framework for resolution; community is the organism that will hold law enforcement accountable.  

           One of the things that makes the Ferguson movement so powerful is because the young people developed their own formation, they are not encumbered by a lack of finances, the fear of jail, nor the fear of death.   Those whom they seek to hold accountable will not control them with the lure of money, or “back alley” deals that will subsequently lead to the demise of the movement.  Because they are determined and resolute in their goal, this makes them a powerful force.  

I saw Theology of Liberation take on life as clergy and protesters marched and allowed themselves to be arrested for those who cannot fight for themselves and give voice to those who do not have a voice in society.  

I saw theology “walk” of the pages of textbooks and become “flesh” in courageous leaders, clergy and activists.  Mama Cat fed many people – she set the table and said COME!  Some were arrested, some mourned with those who mourned, marched, chanted, protested and risked their lives for freedom and justice.  I saw the body of Christ – Black, Jews, Christian, Muslims come together for the purpose of justice.  I saw the church “shift from a building into the streets” so the “unchurched” could see the manifestation of Jesus Christ.  

Another powerful “take away” for me from this class is that there is purpose for every thing that happens in this movement.   From the clergy attire to the songs and chants that ignite energy and enthusiasm for the protest, to the beat of the drums to the manner in which leaders are strategically placed in the protest formation.  

           I offer my profound thanks to Pastor Renita Lamkin and Rev. Dr. Osagyefo Sekou for your invaluable teachings in this life transforming class.  

 In the words of my sisters and brothers whom I marched beside and chanted “We gon’ be alright!”  

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Black Lives Matter – We Do this Work Out of Deep, Abiding Love

by Karen Yang

“Greater love has no man than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (John 15:13).

As a result of Moral Monday’s nonviolent civil disobedience action that brought together clergy, people of faith, and people of conscience from across the nation, I sat in a jail cell with people who supported the Black Lives Matter movement out of deep moral and religious conviction. We risked arrest to confront the Department of Justice by reclaiming its building as sacred space under the dominion of Divine power. We anointed one another in our holy struggles for justice. We held the Department of Justice morally accountable for implementing the recommendations of its report on the Ferguson Police Department. By extension, we indicted all police departments with similarly racist and morally reprehensible practices. When we sat in jail for the crime of prophetic witness, we noticed that one officer had “John 15:13” tattooed on their arm. We whispered to each other, “John 15:13… what’s John 15:13?” We joked that the Dean of Eden Theological Seminary was in the next cell—maybe she would know…

Later, I read John 15:13 and wondered, The question is, who are your friends? Some of those who were arrested as a result of Moral Monday suffered bruises from being pinched and shoved by officers, deep indents from zipties that cut into their wrists, and hands that turned purple or lost nerve sensation when zipties cut circulation off for too long. Some experienced psychological terror from threats by officers of bodily harm, sexual violence, and isolation. The officers were not protecting us, they were hurting us. We were clearly not their friends.

John 15:13 was not etched into the skin on its own—it sat on a blue line. The design suggested that the friends in question were other police officers, those in blue. With the blue backdrop, the verse took on a military and fraternal tone. This fraternal police culture deepens the “us versus them” mentality created by militarized policing, with SWAT teams wearing bulletproof vests, carrying rifles and canisters of tear gas, hiding behind Plexiglas shields, positioned as snipers atop tanks, threatening unarmed dreamers and mourners who dare to speak out against the racist, deadly status quo. 

The Requiem for Mike Brown sung at the St. Louis Symphony seems to adopt a similar “us versus them” mentality with the opening line, “Which side are you on friends, which side are you on?” But this line is followed by the harmonizing, unifying refrain, “Justice for Mike Brown is justice for us all...” The song acknowledges that racism, debtors’ prisons, and militarized policing created rifts and fractures in the St. Louis community. However, justice for Mike Brown, and by extension, justice for all black people, would unite us all.

The #UnitedWeFight march from Vonderrit Myers’ memorial uplifted this vision of unity and justice. Leading the march with one #UnitedWeFight banner were Muslims for Ferguson, Palestine Solidarity Committee, Latinos en Axión Stl, Asian and Pacific Islanders for Black Lives, and Hands Up United. White supremacy creates a black-white binary in St. Louis. White supremacy promotes infighting, invisibility, and isolation among people of color in St. Louis. But the dream of unifying justice is incarnate when people of color march in solidarity with white folks for black liberation.

The Black Lives Matter movement has awakened the valley of dry bones in my soul. Whereas hope for healing racism in US-America often rings hollow in the clattering bones of my spirit, the Black Lives Matter movement puts flesh and breath on those bones, causing them to rise and dance. Momma Cat nourishes the protestors, radically welcoming all to the Lord’s Supper, feeding the 5,000 who are hungry for justice, making food as sumptuous and miraculous as manna and quail in the desert. KB Frazier drums to call on our ancestors for strength and invite all to join in a vision of restorative justice. Elizabeth Vega creates the playful disruption of the Holy Spirit, constructing community, critique, and comedy through art so that the haughty might be brought low and the poor in spirit be lifted up. As Dorothy said, “I saw theology walk off the paper and come to life.”

The eschatological creed of the Black Lives Matter movement exclaims, “I….! I believe! I believe that we will win!” The modern day miracles of the Black Lives Matter movement strengthen my faith that the year of Jubilee is coming, that justice will be restored once more, and we will rejoice in life abundant. “I believe that we will win!” is an invitation to join in the sacred work of creating the reign of love on Earth. I am called by Ella’s song, which asserts that “Until the killing of black men, black mothers’ sons, is as important as the killing of white men, white mothers’ sons, we who believe in freedom cannot rest until it comes.”

I am challenged by Rev. Renita Lamkin’s questions, “What are you willing to risk? If you haven’t risked everything, you’ve risked nothing! Are you willing to put your resources to work? Are you willing to put your body on the line? Are you willing to suffer the exact same treatment that your black and brown siblings suffer? Are you willing to suffer with them?” When I reflect on the considerations that hold me back from fully engaging with the Black Lives Matter movement, I realize that all of my justifications pale in comparison to the intolerable treatment that black people face in US-America. If I truly profess to love my black siblings, I must be willing to totally devote my resources, my body, and my heart to the Black Lives Matter movement. My work as a pastor, preacher, and chaplain compels me to support the Black Lives Matter movement. No greater love have I experienced than this, to lay down my life with my family, a family that welcomes all who believe in liberation and justice.

Essentially, Rev. Renita’s soul-stirring questions ask, “Are you willing to fight for black liberation out of deep, abiding love?” To these questions, I must answer in the words of Assata Shakur: “It is our duty to fight for our freedom! It is our duty to win! We must love and support each other! We have nothing to lose but our chains!”

[blmimmersionreflections]

Student Reflection Post

Due by Noon Monday, August 17, 2015 Each student will write a blog post 1000-1200 words. Content for the blog will be drawn from class presentations, your reading notes, class discussions, tours, conversations with classmates and your own thoughts and feelings.

[blmimmersionreflections]

Immersion is more than physically being in a space, but to offer the mind and soul to the experience.