Standing on Their Shoulders

by The Reverend Dr. Kristina “Tina” Campbell, Black Mountain United Church of Christ

I am standing on the shoulders of the ones who came before me.

I am stronger for their courage, I am wiser for their words.

I am lifted by their longing for a fair and brighter future

I am grateful for their vision, for their toiling on this Earth.

-Joyce Rouse

Last weekend commemorated the sixtieth anniversary of the March on Washington where The Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. delivered his now famous “I Have a Dream” speech.  Many of the organizers of the march were recognized and honored, and we had an opportunity to pause and ponder… upon whose shoulders do we stand?

I entered the ministry due to the influence of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.  At the time his life was coming to a close, I was living in an all African American community as a VISTA (Volunteers in Service to America) volunteer.  I clung to the words of Dr. King, and was utterly taken aback by the influence he had on the lives around me.  He influenced people to be brave, to have hope, to take action, to live out their faith, to move beyond restriction into liberation.  On the day of his death, I stood beside grown men who openly wept at the loss of this great soul.  I wanted to stand on the shoulders of The Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

When I first moved to Phoenix, I was looking for a church, and one of my colleagues at St. Luke’s Hospital said to me, “If you want to go where they’re doing something, go talk with Don Heinrich.”  Don was the long time pastor at Shepherd of the Hills United Church of Christ, and Don was in the crowd in Washington, D.C. when Dr. King articulated his vision of a dream.  Don carried  the momentum of Dr. King’s dream in the Phoenix area.  Don stood firmly on all social issues, but he did more than that.  He suited up and he showed up for his congregation.  He showed up to receive the Peggy Goldwater Award for Reproductive Rights, and he also showed to hand wash dishes at my father’s memorial service.  I stand on Don’s shoulders.

All of us stand on the shoulders of those who lived before us, who dreamed before us, who put their faith into action.  God has blessed our lives with great souls upon whose shoulders we stand.  Thanks be to God.

Rules of Nonviolence

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

As we get ready to celebrate Martin Luther King Jr. Day, I was reminded of his rules of nonviolence that was given to those who worked alongside of him in the Civil Rights Movement. Did you know there was a set of such rules? It was a sort of Rule of Law to be adopted by those working in what he understood to be, the long struggle for justice and peace. Once I learned of these, I have found them to be very important in my day to day life. They inform me of who I want to be in public and in private. Let me share them with you.

  1. Meditate daily on the teachings and life of Jesus.
  2. Remember always that the nonviolent movement in Birmingham or anywhere seeks justice and reconciliation, not victory.
  3. Walk and talk in the manner of love for God is love.
  4. Pray daily to be used by God in order that all might be free.
  5. Observe with both friend and foe the ordinary rules of courtesy.
  6. Seek to perform regular service for others and the world.
  7. Refrain from violence of fist, tongue, or heart.
  8. Strive to be in good spiritual and bodily health.

As you find ways to honor this important day in this first month of our year and as you find ways to live up to the challenge of Dr. King and others who worked so tirelessly for Civil Rights, may you find strength and courage to live out these rules of nonviolence. The world will be better because of it!

To Tell the Truth

It’s More Than Just a Game Show

by Rev. Dave Klingensmith, Church of the Palms UCC

I have always enjoyed the game show “To Tell the Truth.” I’ve seen it through several different versions, even was at a taping in NYC once. It has always been fun for me to try to decide, along with the panelists, who is really the one contestant sworn to tell the truth.

Most of us learned from a young age that it was important to tell the truth. Those who raised us drilled it into us. “Don’t lie, tell the truth.” We may have learned it in Sunday School. The Ninth Commandment specifically forbids lying in terms of bearing false witness or what is called perjury today. And though we may have been told that a “little white lie” is sometimes OK, almost all cultures and religions discourage lying of any sort.

But while we are often quick to tell someone else to “tell the truth,” we often don’t like to hear the truth, or face the truth, about ourselves or someone else. Some time ago I discovered in doing some genealogy research that my paternal great-grandfather had committed suicide in the early 1900’s when some investments went bad. It was shocking and surprising. Often families don’t want to face the truth when this happens. People often don’t want to face the truth that a family member is LGBT, or that someone has a mental illness. These days using Ancestry.com or other websites, sometimes people may discover that they have siblings they never knew they had, or even that they may not be the race or nationality they thought they were. Doing other historical research might lead us to discover that our families owned slaves or took land from indigenous people.

It can be hard to face up to this. We may want to brush it under the rug, to tell ourselves “That was a long time ago.” But by doing so we deny ourselves a significant, if challenging, part of our history. To acknowledge it may result in significant growth and even healing for us, and for the descendants of those who were wronged.

Likewise, the information we learned in school about our nation’s history may not always have been totally truthful. I learned about the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor but didn’t learn until much later how we put Japanese-American U.S. citizens in internment camps. We learned about the Civil War and slavery, but textbooks downplayed the cruelty inflicted on slaves, and how our entire society capitalized on the backs of people who were bought and sold. We have often glossed over how even Christian missionaries treated Native Americans as “savages.”

Telling the truth about our nation’s history, especially in regard to racial issues, is important. The term “Critical Race Theory” is an explosive one right now. I would argue for a different term – Critical Race History – or even just Telling the Truth About Our History. When we do not acknowledge painful or troubling events or try to say they have no relevance today, we are denying the humanity of someone’s great-great grandparent who was a slave. We may have to tell the truth, that someone we may have admired was really a brutal plantation owner or a ship owner who transported slaves from Africa.

When school districts, or states, maybe even religious groups, try to deny painful parts of our history, we all lose. We lose the opportunity to acknowledge the truth, to admit our complicity in that history, and to see how we can do something today to atone for the past.

We can tell the truth about our history so that injustices don’t happen again. If we don’t tell the truth and acknowledge injustices, we can expect to repeat them.

Racism’s Impact on People of Color—RBTS

by Kay F. Klinkenborg

The effect of racism on mental health has a name: Race-based Traumatic Stress (RBTS).

I write this to honor the Juneteenth “Day of Freedom.”  It is important and a crucial time for the church to be informed of the importance of freedom and ending racism; for the mental and physical well being of people of color.

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (most commonly referred to as PTSD) became a familiar term following post- Vietnam war era replacing ‘shell shock syndrome’ from WWI and WWII. 

Today there is specific identifying language regarding the trauma of racism on mental health.   Most commonly used is Race-based Traumatic Stress (RBTS)1.  RBTS has not been used as a medical condition but is recognized as a response to a consistent/life-long exposure to racism, discrimination, structural racism and all its implications.  It is the world in which people of color live that white people don’t experience.

In 2002, B.F. Buttsdocumented the correlation between racial/ethnic discrimination and PTSD.  From 2005 to now I found ample empirical evidence that attests to the nature and impact of racial trauma on victims.  Should we be surprised?   No!   Are we alert and connected to the reality of those who live under racism daily?  “There is a cumulative traumatizing impact of racism on racialized individuals, which can include individual acts of racism combined with systemic racism, and typically includes historical, cultural, and community trauma as well.”1   American citizens and physicians (in general) are behind the eight ball in applying known medically detrimental stressors and their impact on the mental and physical well-being of POC.

Studies show that White supremacist ideology, the belief in White biological or cultural superiority that serves to maintain the status quo of racial inequality, is deeply integrated in dominant culture values (Liu et al., 2019).4  This consistent racist milieu is destroying lives and our democracy.

“Racism…Corrosive Impact on the Health of Black Americans” was aired on 60 minutes on April 18, 2021.  Dr. David R. Williams, a Harvard Researcher was interviewed by Bill Whitaker.  Williams gave a poignant example of the impact of racism on Blacks in America: “Imagine if you will, a plane  with 220 Black people crashes today and they all die.  Every day in America 220 Black people die prematurely.”5

For decades, the medical community has known that stressors impact physical health and can shorten life expectancy.  What is vital for us to understand is that RBTS is a day-in and day-out lived experience. And that trauma shortens lives significantly and creates mental stress beyond the norm of one significant time, or short duration of traumatic stress in one’s life.  The severity of being in ‘war’ has alerted us to PTSD. BUT we are now learning that a life-time of exposure to racism is detrimental and dangerous to POC and there are life-time impacts of Race- based Traumatic Stress.

A variety of symptoms/behaviors are observed (but not limited to): hypervigilance, depression, low levels of ethnic identity, low self-efficacy, low self-esteem, anger, recurring disruptive thoughts of racist encounters/events, chest pains, insomnia, mental distancing from traumatic events, a variety of medical long-term negative impacts, etc.1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11,12

 “It is important to note that unlike PTSD, RBTS is not considered a mental health disorder. RBTS is a mental injury that can occur as the result of living within a racist system or experiencing events of racism.” 2

Unequivocally, racism experienced by all people of color is shortening their lifespans, decreasing their quality of life and creating a constant state of anxiety and fear. What should be White Christian’s response to these chronic living conditions?  More crucial, why are we allowing this to continue?  If we are all created in the image of God, all people are equal. Apostle Paul write in Galatians 3:28: : “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” (NIV)  Dare we not add:  ‘neither White or people of color’?

Jesus demonstrated for us numerous examples of contact/concern/compassion for persons who are: marginalized, oppressed, economically disadvantaged, those living in disparaging social conditions and lack of physical and mental health resources.

White supremacy does not believe these two quotes: 1) “Every person has equal value”. The Gates Foundation mission statement.  2) “You have never locked eyes with a person who is not worth of freedom, liberty, connection and belonging.” Stated by: Kori Carew, Black female lawyer, feminist, and activist. 

And as recent as the events that DID NOT happen in Tulsa over Memorial Day Weekend, 2021 to recognize the 100 year anniversary of the Tulsa Massacre (Greenwood Black community demolished and over 300 dead, and thousands displaced, John Legend stated: “The road to restorative justice is crooked and rough—and there is space for reasonable people to disagree about the best way to heal the collective trauma of white supremacy. But one thing that is not up for debate—one fact we must hold with conviction—is that the path to reconciliation runs through truth and accountability.”13

 I believe we have a moral and ethic responsibility to work toward ending racism. That begins with me!  The Hebrew Scripture prophet Micah understood this urgent need 1000’s of years ago:  “To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” (NIV, Micah 6:8).

                                                                                                     

REFERENCES

1Mental Health America website, 2021.   www. https://www.mhanational.org/  “Our Commitment to

Anti-racism.”

2Butts, H. F. (2002). The black mask of humanity: Racial/ethnic discrimination and post-traumatic stress disorder. The Journal of the American Academy of Psychiatry and the Law, 30(3), 336–339

2Mental Health America website, 2021.   www. https://www.mhanational.org/  “Our Commitment to

Anti-racism.”

3Carter, R.T., et al. (2017) Race-based traumatic stress, racial identity statuses, and psychological functioning: An explanatory investigation.  Professional Psychology: Research and Practice, 48(1), 30-37.  

-3-

4 Liu, W. M., et al. (2019). Racial trauma, microaggressions, and becoming racially innocuous: The role of acculturation and White supremacist ideology. American Psychologist, 74(1), 143–155.

5Willliams, D. R., Whitaker,B (interviewer). (May 2021).”Racism…Corrosive Impact on the Heath of Black Americans.” 60 Minutes weekly TV news report. Complete interview: https://cbsn.ws/2OYeu70.

 6Helms, J. E., Nicolas, G., & Green, C. E. (2010). Racism and ethno-violence as trauma: Enhancing professional training. Traumatology, 16(4), 53-62.

7Carter, R. T., Mazzula, S., Victoria, R., Vazquez, R., Hall, S., Smith, S., . . . Williams, B. (2013). Initial development of the Race-Based Traumatic Stress Symptom Scale: Assessing the emotional impact of racism. Psychological Trauma: Theory, Research, Practice, and Policy, 5(1), 1-9.

8 Cheng, H. -L., & Mallinckrodt, B. (2015). Racial/ethnic discrimination, posttraumatic stress symptoms, and alcohol problems in a longitudinal study of Hispanic/Latino college students. Journal of Counseling Psychology, 62(1), 38–49.

9Flores, E., et al. (2010). Perceived racial/ethnic discrimination, posttraumatic stress symptoms, and health risk behaviors among Mexican American adolescents. Journal of Counseling Psychology, 57(3), 264–273.

10Holmes, S. C., Facemire, V. C., & DaFonseca, A. M. (2016). Expanding Criterion A for posttraumatic stress disorder: Considering the deleterious impact of oppression. Traumatology, 22(4), 314–321.

11Gone, J. P., et al. (2019). The impact of historical trauma on health outcomes for Indigenous populations in the USA and Canada: A systematic review. American Psychologist, 74(1), 20–35.

12Carter, R. T., et al. (2013). Initial development of the Race-Based Traumatic Stress Symptom Scale: Assessing the emotional impact of racism. Psychological Trauma: Theory, Research, Practice, and Policy, 5(1), 1-9.

13Legend, J. (June 1, 2021). Hundreds remember riot at historical Tulsa church. Arizona Republic.

To read extensive research on medical treatment of Black patients see:  13Pearl, Robert, MD. (May, 2021) How Racial Bias and Healthcare Inequality Are Killing Black Patients. Excerpted from his book:  Uncaring: How the Culture of Medicine Kills Doctors and Patients.

Racial Injustice and Mental Health

guest post by Ray Littleford of Desert Palm UCC; this post originally appeared in the Desert Breeze

February 14 may be Valentine’s Day, and in the United Church of Christ, it is also designated as Racial Justice Sunday, and the theme across the denomination is Compassionate Community.  It is well established that experiencing racial discrimination often leads to mental health problems that detract from quality-of-life over the course of a year or even a lifetime.  Numerous studies have found that rates of anxiety, depression and posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) are significantly higher among minority groups in the United States. 

Historically, Dr. Benjamin Rush, a signer of the Declaration of Independence and the first American physician to study mental disorders, declared that Negroes were not inferior to Whites.  In the 1850s, however, Dr. Samuel Cartwright defined “drapetomania” as the disease which causes slaves to run away, and “dysaethesia aethiopica” as the condition that causes laziness and made slaves insensitive to punishment.  A century later it was theorized that the urban violence among blacks in the 1960s was due to brain dysfunction.

There is also the problem of the over-diagnosis of schizophrenia among African-American males, nearly four times greater than that of white males.  The diagnosis was applied to many hostile and aggressive black men, and then they were treated with high doses of antipsychotic medications. 

Articles in prominent journals of mental health and psychiatry have explored the reluctance of African-Americans, Native Americans, Asian-Americans and Latinx individuals to seek mental health treatment.  Cultural paranoia and lack of trust in the medical community are often mentioned, as well as concerns regarding the cultural competence and understanding of clinicians.  Mental health professionals are predominantly white (e.g. only 2% of US psychologists are African-American) so these professions need to do a better job of attracting minority groups.

Finally, another area of discrimination is the lack of awareness by physicians of physiological differences of various racial groups in how medications are metabolized by the liver.  This can result in either toxic levels of medications or ineffective levels.  If you have tried several different psychiatric medications with poor results, then ask your physician to order genetic testing of the liver enzymes.  Most insurance plans will authorize it, and then the test results can point to the medications that are well metabolized by your liver, not too fast or too slow.

I believe we are making progress in reducing the stigma of mental illness in the general population.  It behooves us to extend this progress to people of all races and ethnicities so that biases in diagnosis and accessibility to treatment are eliminated.  As members of DPUCC, our witness to the community is that everyone is welcome here.  In the words of the Apostle Paul:

If our Message is obscure to anyone, it’s not because we’re holding back in any way.  No, it’s because these other people are looking or going the wrong way and refuse to give it serious attention.  All they have eyes for is the fashionable god of darkness.  They think he can give them what they want, and that they won’t have to bother believing a Truth they can’t see.  They’re stone-blind to the dayspring brightness of the Message that shines with Christ, who gives us the best picture of God we’ll ever get.  Remember, our Message is not about ourselves; we’re proclaiming Jesus Christ, the Master.  All we are is messengers, errand runners from Jesus for you.  It started when God said, “Light up the darkness!” and our lives filled up with light as we saw and understood God in the face of Christ, all bright and beautiful.  (2 Cor 4:3-6, The Message)

Black Transgender Lives Matter

by Hailey Lyons

Every day, our black trans siblings deal with the intersection of white supremacy and transphobia. Every day they risk misgendering, violence, and murder simply by living as themselves. They are targeted for hate crimes and are the targets of racist and transphobic jokes from construction sites to comfortable CEO offices. Our president propagates white supremacy. Our supposed democratic republic sets up barriers to the recognition of trans people and institutes policies to further the exploitation of people of color. Our prison system profits from the mass incarceration of black people.

We in the UCC need to be uncomfortable. We need to challenge white supremacy in our own spaces just as much as we fight the system. We need to recognize our complicity in and benefit from the systems of whiteness. The UCC has done and continues to do much of that work, but we need to go further than consciousness-raising and discomfort. We must destroy white privilege. We must tear asunder the structures in place that affirm whiteness. We must reconsider our beloved traditions that keep many of our congregations in a bygone era rooted in whiteness.

Black trans activists started the LGBT equality movement in America, and it is precisely their voices that are being erased in current movements toward LGBT equality and recognition. Being Open and Affirming is not enough, we need to aggressively model celebration of the trans community in our congregations and in public. Too often the Open and Affirming creed is simply an open door that trans people walk through and realize that our congregations are just another heteronormative, cisgender-dominated space.

When Jesus stormed the temple grounds, upending tables and tossing out people and animals alike, he called out the temple for becoming a house of commodities. Rather than a holy place, the temple commodified the acts of worship into a system of profit condoned by the so-called priests of God. Jesus violently cleansed the temple of its commodification, disrupting an economy benefiting those in power and exploiting the people. The first Isaiah delivered a stinging rebuke on the stench of the multitude of burnt offerings given to God because they are rooted in the commodification of worship itself. He attacked the very system set up to atone for the sins of Israel because it was a morally empty venture intent on appeasing God by adhering to tradition without passion. Rather, the Israelites should, “learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow,”.

The churches of my Evangelical upbringing denied the existence of racism, denied the existence of those who weren’t cisgender. Even as they brought in diverse people, the theological message never strayed from white supremacy. The worship style changed, and the music became more upbeat and ‘contemporary’ – which was just a few thousand rip-offs of whatever U2 was producing – but the theology itself was morally bankrupt, leading them to commodify both the acts of worship and worship itself.

It is a privilege to be in the UCC where our theology acknowledges the sin of white supremacy and actively works to dismantle systemic racism. But don’t stop there. Let us carry forward the work into our liturgies, our polity, and our acts of worship. Let us dismantle the systems of whiteness still present in our congregations and hierarchies. For all lives to matter, black trans lives must also matter, and that means confronting our ideologies of white supremacy and transphobia, challenging those legacies wherever we see them, especially in our congregations.

Genuine Encounters

by James Briney

While campaigning for public office in 1968 I parked in front of a notorious club that catered to patrons who used more than alcohol. As an ambulance attendant I had been to that establishment two summers before, when dozens of adult males were lined up outside. Inside was a dead woman with six bullets in her back. The victim, the ambulance driver, and I were the only individuals who were not persons of color. When the police arrived the shotgun bolted to a frame in their cruiser went missing.

The campaign that brought me back to that location resulted in a happy reunion. It began when a prostitute told me I had parked behind a car that had a dead man in the trunk. She advised me to drive away. In less than a block a voice called my name. “Briney, that you.” I had not heard that voice since tenth grade after friends and I were attacked following a Friday night football game. Boys wielding boards with nails in them put two of us in the hospital. I was treated and released.

Monday morning I satisfied the mandatory requirement to dress for gym class. Standing in shorts in front of my locker with my arm in a sling, is when I had heard that voice for the first time. It belonged to a student relying on social promotion as a graduation strategy. He had a fierce reputation and the stature to match it. The locker room cleared out and I figured he had come to finish me off. Instead he wanted to know what I had told the police.

I had told the police I did not know who had done us harm. My inquisitor took me at my word. Using language of the era he asked why I had not accused someone of his race. Then he looked me in the eye, nodded, and walked away. He returned to my locker Wednesday morning. Word had gotten around that Tuesday night a gang of boys had been punished. He said “You won’t have no more trouble. Some of the little brothers have to learn to make distinctions.”

Until I returned to the vicinity where once I had been to retrieve a body, I had not seen my locker room visitor. Not until he got in the car with his companions who were carrying appliances. He proceeded to give me directions. “Go straight. Turn here. Stop there. Let us out.” Then he said: “We’re even.” I had just driven the getaway car in the aftermath of a robbery. I appreciated this encounter as I have others. Each acquainted me with improbable allies.

Many incidents lead to greater violence. Plenty are exploited to advance an agenda. It’s a mystery to me why some people of faith promote agendas that are antithetical to their professed beliefs. Some declare they are helping God usher in the end- times. Societal armageddon’s are of our own making. The story that began this piece is indicative of numerous encounters throughout the course of my life and ministry. I have taken something precious from each one.

In winter months my Mother drove me to middle school in a big Mercury, the model with the slant window in the back. From a segregated neighborhood kids cut through our backyard on their way to school. A few regulars climbed on top of the car and others held on. Encounters of this kind make it less likely we will marginalize each other later in life. The holy books are a collection of selected stories that reveal and inspire God’s relationship with humanity. Read as a whole they are about loving our neighbor in practice, as a matter of justice, peace and inclusion.

Respect and Integrity are at the center of each genuine encounter. I witness such interactions at Ironwood Ridge High School. Their annual assemblies feature students honoring veterans. Students who have interviewed and befriended veterans tell their stories. Their program includes the tradition of recognizing an excellent educator and a student who writes about their own notion of integrity. Those who have served get to see that their service was worth it.

There is a lot going on in our nation and the world. It is up to us to hold ourselves accountable as we move forward in faith toward a more perfect union that realizes liberty and justice for all. What we think, how we act, and what we believe, makes a difference for better or for worse. Becoming intentional tends to help us accomplish what we set out to do. In a terminal ward in the old St. Vincent’s Hospital in Indianapolis I expressed my intention.

After a misdiagnosis I was disemboweled during a botched surgery. In recovery I did not make any deals with God. But I did whisper a prayer that if I survived I would do the will of God, whether I knew what it was, or not. I am wary of people who claim that God has ordained them to do their own will. History offers such examples. Fresh examples are in evidence today. An article of my faith is that when you know the right thing to do but are not certain of the outcome, do it anyway.

Ethical constructs cover a lot of ground. From the rationale for a just war, to best practices in business, cultural and scientific endeavors, and a bunch of other situations and predicaments. They present considerations that define the right thing to do. Integrity is doing it. Our friends are where we find them and not all encounters are harrowing. But they are formative because they give us occasion to discover and reveal the content of our character.

Relatively few of us put our lives on the line in service to our country. But at one time or another all of us get to make choices that may cost us status or a job. In the context of wisdom and mercy will we go-along to get-along. Will we agree to disagree. Will we be complacent or complicit. Will we make distinctions. Will we be the voice of courage and conviction. Will we rise to the occasion with a measure of restraint.

Rev. James Briney; photo by Lou Waters
Rev. James Briney; photo by Lou Waters

James Briney is a graduate of Pontiac Central High School in Michigan. He earned a bachelor of arts degree in Philosophy from Olivet College in Michigan. He graduated with a Master of Divinity degree from Winebrenner Theological Seminary in Findlay, Ohio. Briney worked as the assistant to Mayor Richard G. Lugar in Indianapolis when he was a student at Christian Theological Seminary and the Catholic Seminary Institute.

Rev. Briney is a member of the Church of the Good Shepherd in Sahuarita, Arizona. Prior to retiring, he served 4 United Church of Christ congregations: Plymouth United Church of Christ (Goshen, Indiana) Emma Lowery United Church of Christ (Luzerne, Michigan) The United Church of Christ (Medford, Wisconsin) Oro Valley United Church of Christ (Oro Valley, Arizona). He is a member of the Confraternity of Saint Gregory’s Abbey, an Anglican Benedictine Community in Three Rivers, Michigan.

What Will the Church DO About the Lynchings?

“You can lynch a people by more than just hanging them on a tree. How long will this terror last?!” Dr. James Cone, 2013, Vanderbilt University

Dear white Christians,

Every Black life matters. That is not a cliché, hashtag, or a movement moniker. That is a Divinely pronounced, immutable, moral truth. Despite this Truth, three black people – Ahmad Aubrey in Georgia, Breonna Taylor in Kentucky, George Floyd in Minnesota – three children of God, three of our human siblings, three of our neighbors, three beloved family members – were lynched in America in as many months. Each of their lives mattered. And God is inviting us to remember the Divine Words in Genesis. “What have you done?! Listen! your brothers’ and sister’s blood cries out to me from the land.” (Gen. 4:10)

To say that the murders of Ahmad Aubrey, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd, happened because they were Black is to blame the victims. Mr. Aubrey, Ms. Taylor, and Mr. Floyd were lynched because their killers were racists. The initial non-response to Mr. Aubrey’s murder happened because the prosecutors’ decisions were rooted in racism. Bystanders realized the police were killing Mr. Floyd and begged the officers to stop using lethal force; officers refused because they were racists. When I ask prayerfully, “Would what happened to Ahmad Aubrey, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd have been different if these beloved children of God had been white?” the answer is, “Yes!” But their Blackness was not to blame. Their deaths are the fruit of white privilege left unchallenged, racism gone viral, and white supremacy running rampant and glorified on our airwaves and in our streets. Racist white people are to blame. Racist white people lynched them! “What have you done?! Listen! your brothers’ and sisters’ blood cries out to me from the land.”

The assault against Black bodies on our streets is personal. It was personal for Ahmad Aubrey and his family. It was personal for Breonna Taylor and her family. It was personal for George Floyd and his family. What has happened to them and to their families is personal for everyone in America who is not white. I want to say something to the Church without becoming too personal for me or for you. But that is not possible.

Dismantling racism is personal work. Racism will only be dismantled when each of us personally dismantles our own racism. An honest moral inventory of myself specifically and of white people generally tells me that white people do not interact with Black people the same way they interact with white people. White people feel a different set of feelings when we interact with Black people than we feel when we interact with white people. White culture believes and perpetuates stereotypes and untruths about Black culture in order to sustain our white privilege. That is why just this week a Central Park dog-walker, Amy Cooper, who is white, called the police and reported her life was being threatened when a birdwatcher, Christian Cooper, who is Black, asked her to comply with posted rules and put her dog on a leash. Sometimes we don’t realize what we are doing and that is the crux of the problem. Sometimes we do.

My integrity compels me to admit that I am a racist. I was taught racial biases, not always tacitly. I have willingly learned and practiced these patterns of behavior because that is what white people expect of other white people, and because ‘our systems’ reward racism. My whiteness has become unmanageable in that I am addicted to my privilege. I do not want to be a racist. Yet, I commit racism every time I interact with or feel or believe differently about someone who is not white, or when I act to preserve my privilege. While I am working to be more aware of and to overcome my privilege and my racism, that does not mean I am not racist. That means when I succeed, I am a racist in recovery. Until white people confess and change what is happening inside of ourselves, Black people will continue to bear our sins in their bodies. “What have you done?! Listen! your brothers’ and sisters’ blood cries out to me from the land.”

Let us agree to make no more assumptions that because we are progressive Christians, we are not racists. Let us put as much work into dismantling our own individual racism as we have put into our collective statements of solidarity with communities of color, protests, expressions of outrage, and social media posts. Let us agree as clergy and lay leaders, members together of the Southwest Conference of the United Church of Christ, we will intentionally and overtly act to dismantle racism in all of our ministry settings and in the systems in which we live socially, economically, legally, and politically. Let us agree to educate ourselves about Black history, read books by Black authors, quote Black teachers and theologians, and elect Black leaders. Let us agree to call out racism from our pulpits and in our pulpits, from our seats and in our seats at board and committee meetings, our private conversations, our decision making, our interpretation of Scripture, our classes and workshops. Let us agree to give one another permission to hold each other accountable when we miss the opportunity to hold ourselves accountable for racist and privileged behavior.

The Lord said to Cain, “Why are you angry, and why has your countenance fallen? 7 If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if you do not do well, sin is lurking at the door; its desire is for you, but you must master it.” (Genesis 4:6-7) What world becomes possible when we, white Christians, live into that kind of covenant with one another? I hope a world without lynchings, where no person dies because of the color of their skin, a world from which “the blood of our neighbors” no longer cries out against us, a just world for all.

Rev. Dr. William M. Lyons, Conference Minister
Southwest Conference of the United Church of Christ

How Long Oh Lord, How Long?

guest post by Rev. Dr. Edward Smith Davis, MBA, Conference Minister, Southern Conference UCC

And they cried with a loud voice, saying “How long Oh Lord, Holy and true dost Thou not judge and avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth. (Rev. 6:10 KJV)

After seeing the videos of incidences surrounding Ahmaud Arbery in Georgia, and George Floyd in Minnesota, and equally likewise the incident surrounding the death of Breonna Taylor, I had a visceral reaction that made my spirit cry out, “How long Oh Lord, how long?  How long must innocent victims be put to death needlessly because of the color of their skin?

This brought back memories of growing up in Chicago, as a twelve-year old boy, of how many times the police forced me and others to lay on the ground in, sometimes zero-degree weather, searching our pockets for weapons or drugs.  After searching our pockets and realizing there was no paraphernalia that could link us to any crime, we were still forced to lay on a frozen ground for often, twenty to thirty minutes of what felt like an eternity.  It was during those times I realized how quickly things could go severely wrong.  

I called to remembrance the times when I would sit down with my two young sons and talk with them, not so much about gang violence, but being more concerned with the violence that could be perpetrated upon them by the police out of racism and hatred.  Let me say, I have no ill will toward the police. My wife served as police officer for thirty-one years and we both served as St. Jude Chaplains for the entire police department. We understand their call to faithful service. 

In this society I ask the question, how long oh Lord?  How long must Black men and women be devalued to the point of death? How long, oh Lord! How long and when will the bodies of Eric Garner, Michael Brown, Tamir Rice, Freddy Gray, and others compel us to use our voices to cry out over the injustices and the disregard for human life. Black lives matter! How long, oh Lord? How long do we have to witness the videos of Black lives being taken away? How long oh Lord? How long must the shooting of innocent men and women continue to play out in our society.  How long oh Lord? How long will we as a people declare, that in your Holy site, these behaviors are wrong?  

Yes! We must protest! Yes! We must cry out! Yes! we must advocate! And, yes, we must all use our collective voices to proclaim this message loud and clear.  

At General Synod, 2017 I was the keynote speaker at the Open and Affirming, (O&A), banquet I asked the questioned to the gathered, “why do we wait for our particular justice issue to come along before we get involved?”  I shared then that any injustice must be addressed by those of us who are called to be advocates for justice.  When I was on the Board of the United Church of Christ, I declared, “if we were going to be authentic to who we say we are, we are going to have to value all voices. And, if we are going to be people, of spiritual integrity and moral compass, it must compel us to value all lives.”

As Theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer states, “not to speak is to speak! And not to act, is to act!” For we cannot close our eyes and pretend not to see and shut our ears and pretend not to hear the cries from the lips and lives of the families who are left behind. Oh Lord, how long?  In our frustration we do cry out to God asking how long.  But, in this faith, we must remember the God who sees, hears, and knows is forever present with us to provide us hope and the determination to continue to pray, speak and act to these injustices.  

We, as a faith community, must never lose hope that our world can be a safe and healthy place for everyone to live. And, we must do our part to ensure the manifestation of this occurring. In the midst of the crisis we must share this hope with those who have lost their hope. And, we must share it in tangible ways.  I am reminded of the scripture found in Romans 8:22, (NIV), We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. When we see the pains of God’s people as our collective pain, we will be challenged and called to pray as well as act.  How long oh Lord?  Not Long! 

Shine a light against racism

by Talitha Arnold

Flaming torches are a powerful symbol of racism in this country. For generations, they’ve been used to burn crosses outside the houses of African-American, Jewish and Catholic families and to torch churches and synagogues. During Reconstruction after the Civil War, the Ku Klux Klan Night Riders carried torches to light the way for the white-masked white men to spread terror throughout African-American communities.

Earlier this month, well-organized and heavily armed young white men carried Tiki torches in their march on Charlottesville, Va. As with their torch-bearing forbearers, their intent was not to illuminate or guide with their Tiki lights, but to intimidate and instill fear. They didn’t succeed, not that night, and not in the days and nights since then.

When Rabbi Neil Amswych, president of the Interfaith Leadership Association, wrote to Santa Fe clergy with Mayor Javier Gonzales’ request to organize a Rally Against Racism, I chose the African-American spiritual, “This Little Light of Mine, I’m Gonna Let It Shine.” Born in the horror of slavery, the spiritual affirmed that African-Americans would let no one put that light out — not the slave owners, not the overseers, not the Night Riders, not the lynchers, not the Klan.

For a century after the Civil War, “This Little Light of Mine” also affirmed that no thing could put that light out — not the poll tax or voter intimidation, “separate and unequal” schools or a segregated military, unjust housing or employment practices. Not even church bombings or the water cannons and police dogs used against the children, youth and adults marching for civil rights could put out that light.

Most of all, “This Little Light of Mine” affirmed — and continues to affirm — the dignity of every child of God, regardless of race, color, creed, gender, orientation or every other way we divide and discriminate. That’s why we sang the song together at last Monday’s “Rally Against Racism.” It’s why we need to keep singing it — and living it — over and over again in this time.

Tiki torches or the light of God’s love for all people. Individually and as a nation, which will we choose?