In April 1963, a group of
caring, committed and community minded clergy watching as their community was
rocked by civil rights demonstrations wrote the following letter:
We the undersigned clergymen are among
those who, in January, issued "An Appeal for Law and Order and Common
Sense," in dealing with racial problems in Alabama. We expressed
understanding that honest convictions in racial matters could properly be
pursued in the courts, but urged that decisions of those courts should in the
meantime be peacefully obeyed.
Since that time there had been some
evidence of increased forbearance and a willingness to face facts. Responsible
citizens have undertaken to work on various problems which cause racial friction
and unrest. In Birmingham, recent public events have given indication that we
all have opportunity for a new constructive and realistic approach to racial
problems.
However, we are now confronted by a
series of demonstrations by some of our Negro citizens, directed and led in
part by outsiders. We recognize the natural impatience of people who feel that
their hopes are slow in being realized. But we are convinced that these
demonstrations are unwise and untimely.
We agree rather with certain local Negro
leadership which has called for honest and open negotiation of racial issues in
our area. And we believe this kind of facing of issues can best be accomplished
by citizens of our own metropolitan area, white and Negro, meeting with their
knowledge and experience of the local situation. All of us need to face that
responsibility and find proper channels for its accomplishment.
Just as we formerly pointed out that
"hatred and violence have no sanction in our religious and political
traditions," we also point out that such actions as incite to hatred and
violence, however technically peaceful those actions may be, have not
contributed to the resolution of our local problems. We do not believe that
these days of new hope are days when extreme measures are justified in
Birmingham.
We commend the community as a whole,
and the local news media and law enforcement in particular, on the calm manner
in which these demonstrations have been handled. We urge the public to continue
to show restraint should the demonstrations continue, and the law enforcement
official to remain calm and continue to protect our city from violence.
We further strongly urge our own
Negro community to withdraw support from these demonstrations, and to unite
locally in working peacefully for a better Birmingham. When rights are
consistently denied, a cause should be pressed in the courts and in
negotiations among local leaders, and not in the streets. We appeal to both our
white and Negro citizenry to observe the principles of law and order and common
sense.
The true power of the Biblical narrative is that it allows
one to enter into the stories and lessons and parables, and draw from it what
we NEED in the moment in which we stand … if we seek comfort the words of the
23rd Psalm, or the short pithy teachings of Jesus may offer what we
seek … if we yearn for wisdom in the face of struggle and difficulty the words
and experience of Job or Proverbs or Paul; may offer us the counsel we need …
if we simply desire knowing that God is present with us the words of the
prophets and the lives of the many saints that fill these pages may offer us
exactly what we are seeking … it is broad, deep and rich source of theology,
poetry, inspiration, lesson and much much more …
But when we open the texts of the scriptures, whether we
are aware of it or not, we bring a perspective on the text that is part of who
we are, the culture we live within, and the life experiences not only of
ourselves, but of our parents and grandparents and our the social fabric of which
we are a part … we bring a slat or a bias whether we are aware of it or not …
we experience and interpret the Biblical texts from our unique and dare I say,
limited perspective.
Take today’s reading from Exodus as an example. When we
read this story of the first Passover, I will bet we read it from the point of
view of the Hebrew people who were by the Passover – delivered from the hand of
Egyptians … our WPOG curriculum takes it a step further by saying:
We too are a part of
God’s people. The exodus happened thousands
of years ago, yet that event called our people into being, and showed us once and for all what lengths God would go in order to save.
Have you ever
considered this story from the point of view of th Egyptians who watched first
as plague after plague gripped their nation, then one night a wave of death
swept over their land KILLING the first born of every family – both animal and
human …
This is not a
pleasant story.
There is no
way to put a nice spin on the experiences of the Egyptians – even saying ‘it’s
okay God’s people were delivered from the hands of the Egyptians’ stands in the
SAME category as those who are saying Harvey and Irma and the destruction is
just God’s judgement on the American Nation for extending rights to THOSE
people …
The Passover
is a hugely problematic story … but with our cultural and spiritual biases, we
can gloss over the death and destruction and somehow celebrate the Liberation
of the people, AND then claim for ourselves a role in that story that sees us
as the poor victim to be delivered …
When I
encounter these stories I think of an elder from a west coast nation who many
many moons ago, in a classroom at Vancouver School of Theology listened as a
European descended scholar described the Old Testament as “our story of faith”.
The first nations elder stood up and said “respectfully, this is NOT our story
– it is not YOUR story – it is NOT my story … it is the story of a people long
ago who had a relationship with the Creator that brought them through much
suffering and struggle … but it is NOT my story …”
Being a good
biblical studies student, when I first heard that story I scoffed – what did he
mean, of course this is our story – the church is built on this story,
everything we are, everything we do , everything we are about is drawn from
this (…) of course it is our story …
But then, I
had the opportunity to spend more and more time hearing the experiences of
people in communities like Bella Coola, Bella Bella Bella, Lax’wal’am, Haida
Gwaii, Haisla, and Owikeeno … and as I heard their story and how their story
was affected by our story, I came to see the truth in that elder’s statement …
AND today as
we hear the vile racist proclamations of those who wrap their hatred and
bigotry in Biblical justifications, we begin to see that the problem is not the
story, but how we chose to interpret it.
Exclusion of
gays, lesbians, bi, trans and others who are different by using Biblical texts
is a twisting and misinterpreting of the text.
Justifying racist
bigotry in the name of Jesus and burning crosses and wearing white hoods as an
act of faith – which is what groups like the KKK do – is a perversion of the
text and the faith …
BUT – it all
comes down to perspective.
About a year
ago I was drawn to the writings of non-white, non-european and non-traditional
theologians … I started reading what has been called ‘marginal theology’ by
reading first interpretations of the Nazi led Holocaust from a Jewish
perspective. Writers who were trying to make sense of the senseless violence –
writers who were trying desperately to find God in the midst of unimaginable
human cruelty and suffering … this led me to theology offered from the true
margins of the globe – the impoverished and persecuted corners of the world
where hope is hard to come by … and most recently I began reading the
distinctive theology of black American writers and church leaders who for the
last three generations have struggled for civil rights, justice and equality –
and still encounter a deep visceral racism even AFTER the presidency of Barak
Obama.
This last
group is a fascinating and timely reinterpretation of our understanding and
experience of Biblical texts and narrative, and they perhaps more than any others,
have laid bare the operative bias that undergird almost everything we do and
are about in the modern, largely white protestant church.
When we
approach stories like the Passover, or jesus calling his disciples, or even
Jesus being crucified, we carry a cultural bias. We see and experience these
stories in a radically different way than those who lived the Jim Crow laws, or
experience systemic racism every day …
When a Black
theologian reads the story of Jesus crucifixion, many liken the story to the
lynchings that hundreds of black men, women AND children experienced across the
US for almost a century … a recent book “the Cross and the lynching tree”
examines that narrative experience and highlights how powerful the cross AS a
lynching tree is, and what effect that has on the community of faith who have
LIVED that crucifixion experience … Jesus dying on the cross is not some
distant story remembered in art and story – it is a REAL experience with the
name of a neighbour, an uncle, a father, a brother, a son … the dying is not
some abstract concept, but a very real and tangible experience …
And that
experience, collectively as a people, leads them not to a passive, complacent
place where they can sing hymns and offer prayers peaceably and patiently … but
it draws them to a place where the word “enough” is real and present … it draws
them to a place where, in response to the faithful letter we began with they
answer thru Martin Luther King Jr:
We know through painful experience
that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded
by the oppressed. Frankly, I have yet to engage in a direct-action campaign
that was "well timed" in the view of those who have not suffered unduly
from the disease of segregation. For years now I have heard the word
"Wait!" It rings in the ear of every Negro with piercing familiarity.
This "Wait" has almost always meant 'Never." We must come to
see, with one of our distinguished jurists, that "justice too long delayed
is justice denied."
We have waited for more than 340
years for our constitutional and God-given rights. The nations of Asia and
Africa are moving with jetlike speed toward gaining political independence, but
we stiff creep at horse-and-buggy pace toward gaining a cup of coffee at a
lunch counter. Perhaps it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging
dark of segregation to say, "Wait." But when you have seen vicious
mobs lynch your mothers and fathers at will and drown your sisters and brothers
at whim; when you have seen hate-filled policemen curse, kick and even kill
your black brothers and sisters; when you see the vast majority of your twenty
million Negro brothers smothering in an airtight cage of poverty in the midst of
an affluent society; when you suddenly find your tongue twisted and your speech
stammering as you seek to explain to your six-year-old daughter why she can't
go to the public amusement park that has just been advertised on television,
and see tears welling up in her eyes when she is told that Funtown is closed to
colored children, and see ominous clouds of inferiority beginning to form in
her little mental sky, and see her beginning to distort her personality by
developing an unconscious bitterness toward white people; when you have to
concoct an answer for a five-year-old son who is asking: "Daddy, why do
white people treat colored people so mean?"; when you take a cross-county
drive and find it necessary to sleep night after night in the uncomfortable
corners of your automobile because no motel will accept you; when you are
humiliated day in and day out by nagging signs reading "white" and
"colored"; when your first name becomes "nigger," your
middle name becomes "boy" (however old you are) and your last name
becomes "John," and your wife and mother are never given the
respected title "Mrs."; when you are harried by day and haunted by
night by the fact that you are a Negro, living constantly at tiptoe stance,
never quite knowing what to expect next, and are plagued with inner fears and
outer resentments; when you are forever fighting a degenerating sense of
"nobodiness" – then you will understand why we find it difficult to
wait. There comes a time when the cup of endurance runs over, and men are no
longer willing to be plunged into the abyss of despair. I hope, sirs, you can
understand our legitimate and unavoidable impatience.
You express a great deal of anxiety
over our willingness to break laws. This is certainly a legitimate concern.
Since we so diligently urge people to obey the Supreme Court's decision of 1954
outlawing segregation in the public schools, at first glance it may seem rather
paradoxical for us consciously to break laws. One may won ask: "How can
you advocate breaking some laws and obeying others?" The answer lies in
the fact that there are two types of laws: just and unjust. I would be the
first to advocate obeying just laws. One has not only a legal but a moral
responsibility to obey just laws. Conversely, one has a moral responsibility to
disobey unjust laws. I would agree with St. Augustine that "an unjust law
is no law at all."
We are called
by our faith, and by our texts to share our faith … but we are called to see
and name our biases and our perspectives and to have the courage to step BEYOND
them to stand on the path God would have us trod … that may be the most
uncomfortable and challenging step of all … we are called to revision our faith, to boldly live our beliefs and to love our neighbour unconditionally ...
May WE make it to be so, thanks be to
God …
