Recycling Old Blood

by Rev. John Indermark, written the day before the Hamas attack on Israel, and the crisis that has resulted

After Pilate attempted to deny his responsibility for putting Jesus to death, Matthew 27:25 records this: “Then the people as a whole answered, His blood be on us and on our children!” No other gospel records those words, only Matthew. But whatever reasons may have first led to their inclusion in Matthew and nowhere else, those words spawned disastrous consequences in the wholesale smearing of Jews as Christ-killers and the rise of anti-Semitism.

The history of the Church’s active role in promoting anti-Semitism goes back at least to the time of the Crusades, when several massacres of Jews took place not in the battlegrounds of the Holy Land but in the homelands of Germany and France. While we may delight to the music of Fiddler on the Roof, its historical setting involved the violent pogroms that victimized Jewish communities in Eastern Europe and Russia. In the background of all these and other persecutions was a twisted lie known as “blood libel” – the claim that Christian boys were slaughtered so their blood could be used in secret Jewish rituals. Too often, the Church kept silent in the face of the lie – or worse yet, promoted it.

The power of that lie, and its association with “blood,” infested 20th century fascism. In 1930, the same year he joined the Nazi party in Germany, Richard Darre wrote a book whose title in English is A New Nobility Based on Blood and Soil. Darre, whose field was agriculture and eugenics, argued in it for a program of selective breeding (the blood part of the title) to insure Nordic and Aryan racial purity. And once again, except for the courageous witness of a small Christian movement known as the Confessing Church, much of the rest of the Church remained silent as Aryan purity transitioned from far-fetched ideas into concentration camps not only for Jews, but also for others deemed unfit – Gypsies, Gays, Slavs, the infirm, Bonhoeffer.

So why bring this up in a 21st century church newsletter? The leading presidential candidate for one of our nation’s parties made the following statement this week about migrants and immigration: “It is a very sad thing for our country. It’s poisoning the blood of our country.” Sound familiar? It is not an accident, and it is deadly serious.

Poisoning the blood. Its origins in anti-Semitism stretch now to include whoever is the stranger, the other, the outsider. We have seen its results before. In the past, too often, the Church has stood silent in such times, and the world suffered. We cannot do so again. Never again.

The Power of Listening

How the simple act of listening furthers the creation of God’s beloved community

by Christopher Schouten, Black Mountain UCC

Though many of us (including me) have grown up and spent much of our lives around others that look and behave very much like we do, in our ever-diverse world, the tapestry of human experiences is intricate and varied in ways we sometimes can’t even imagine. As Christians, we are called to navigate this tapestry with love, grace, and a willingness to listen and learn. Indeed, the act of listening is at the heart of true understanding, especially when we are confronted with stories and realities that are different from our own.

The Bible emphasizes the importance of listening time and time again. James 1:19 reminds us, “Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.” Proverbs 1:5 says, “Let the wise listen and add to their learning, and let the discerning get guidance.” The importance of these verses lies not just in the act of listening but in the transformative power it holds. Author Steven Covey said “Seek first to understand, then to be understood,” and this requires us to listen.

Especially in our diverse society, there are many situations in which we are called to listen.

Dialogues on racial justice demand our full attention and our ears. While the narratives of racial disparity and systemic injustice may be uncomfortable for many, listening to them is essential for fostering the change that brings equality to all God’s people. We must remember the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37), a story that emphasizes the love for one’s neighbor, regardless of racial or cultural differences. By listening to the experiences of our Black, Asian, Indigenous, Pacific Islander and Latino brothers and sisters and allowing them to transform our understanding of unjust, structural racism in our society, we get closer to fulfilling Christ’s call to love unconditionally.

Genesis 1:27 tells us, “God created humankind in God’s own image.” This means that people of all genders reflect God’s image. Our society is rife with gender biases and rigid gender norms, often causing hurt and misunderstanding. To bridge the gap, it becomes imperative to listen to the experiences of people of all gender identities, acknowledging their pains, struggles, and victories, thus appreciating the full spectrum of God’s creation and helping us to grow into wholeness and community.

Heteronormativity, the belief that heterosexuality and everything that is associated with it is the norm, is another area where listening is crucial. Jesus, in Matthew 19:12, speaks of eunuchs who have become so from birth, created by men, and by choice, urging us to accept those for whom marriage, in the traditional sense, isn’t for them. The experiences and the lives of LGBTQ+ people are often very different from other people – often in ways that aren’t immediately visible. By listening to LGBTQ+ stories, we begin to see the breadth and depth of God’s creation and the different forms that love and family can take in the world.

The road to understanding is not always comfortable. There will be moments when the stories we hear will shake us, make us confront difficult personal material, or challenge our worldviews. But it is in these moments of discomfort that growth occurs. Christ, too, often found himself in uncomfortable situations, whether dining with tax collectors or speaking with Samaritan women. His example reminds us that transformation often begins at the edge of our comfort zones.

As members of the United Church of Christ, we have chosen to be a people that provide an extravagant welcome to all, as Christ did. In Romans 15:7, Paul urges, “Accept one another, then, just as Christ accepted you, in order to bring praise to God.” This acceptance starts with listening.

It is through the act of truly listening that we pave the way for understanding, empathy, and love. Let us commit ourselves to listen actively and then really HEAR what the other person is saying and let it impact our hearts, even when it challenges us. For it is through these challenges that we inch closer to a world that embodies Christ’s vision: a world filled with love, justice, acceptance, and unity; God’s beloved community.

Learning a more complete version of our nation’s history

by Rev. Talitha Arnold, United Church of Santa Fe

In early June, six United youth, with Karen and Frank Wilbanks and myself, traveled to the Navajo Nation for four days of exploring that sacred landscape and learning about the history and present lives of our Navajo/Diné neighbors. We took a jeep tour deep into Canyon de Chelly and met with the two Diné Episcopal priests who serve the Fort Defiance Good Shepherd Church, with whom United has a long-standing relationship. We even had a chance encounter with Di’Orr Greenwood, the young Navajo/ Diné artist, one of four skateboard artists whose work is featured on a new set of U.S. Postal stamps.

We were also in Window Rock, the capital of the Navajo Nation, and toured the History Museum on “Treaty Day” (June 1), that commemorates the signing of the 1868 Treaty that ended “The Long Walk.” In case you don’t know this history, between 1863 and 1866, after burning their crops and kidnapping their children, the U.S. military forced over 10,000 Navajo/ Diné men, women, and children to walk from their homeland in northeastern Arizona 250 miles to Bosque Redondo in southern New Mexico. At least 2,000 Navajo/Diné died on the journey. Another 4,000 died over the next four years of imprisonment, due to disease and malnutrition.

Finally, Navajo/Diné leader Manuelito and others successfully used the treaty-making process to secure a return to their homelands and forge a diplomatic relationship with the United States government. Juanita, Manuelito’s wife, and other women also participated in the negotiations, even though—as women—they weren’t officially recognized by the U.S. government. To secure the treaty, the Navajo/Diné also had to agree to giving up their children, from age 6 to 18, to Indian Boarding Schools—a whole other chapter of U.S. history.

After the Museum tour and Treaty exhibit, I asked our youth how learning this hard history made them feel. “Sad,” said one. “I wish our country hadn’t done that,” said another. “We need to make sure something like that never happens again,” said another.

I couldn’t help but contrast their feelings with the current rhetoric used to ban books and forbid the teaching of a fuller history of our country. Such actions are needed, so the argument goes, to keep children and youth from feeling bad or ashamed.

That wasn’t what our kids felt. When they learned a part of U.S. history they’d never known, they felt sadness and empathy. They knew that something our country had done was wrong, and they felt a commitment to make sure such injustice won’t happen again. Empathy. Responsibility. Concern for justice. Aren’t those supposed to be Christian values?

As we prepare to celebrate the 4th of July, let’s learn from our youth and be open to learning a more complete version of our nation’s history. One could argue it’s the Christian thing to do.

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.

Pray Not with Swords in Hand: Reflecting on A Prayer by Violent Insurrectionists

by Rev. Teresa Blythe

Imagine the shock and disgust that rippled through mainline and progressive Christianity in this country after the New Yorker video from the January 6 insurrection showed a group of rioters standing around the Senate President’s chair in the Senate chamber pray, holding hands in the air praising God for their success at storming the Capital. One rioter who was interviewed after the event said he consulted God three times before coming, and each time “he didn’t hear a no.” Discerning types noticed that God also didn’t offer the man a “yes” either.

What can we say other than we denounce traitors and violent rioters who are overcome with a spirit of evil — a mob mentality — and that we do not believe this is something Jesus would ever sign off on? Jesus’ last words to his apostle Peter (and to future followers as well) was “put down your sword.”

We can’t say “they aren’t true Christians” because we know full well there is a strain of Christianity that is heavily nationalistic. And while we don’t interpret scripture the same way they do, we must acknowledge that they are part of what we call “the body of Christ.” We leave the judgment of who is and is not a Christian to a higher authority.

We can’t say “not all Christians” are like this. Even if it is true, it’s beside the point. Most people know there are a variety of strains of Christianity and not all strains condone violence. However, there are enough radical right activist Christians around to sully the reputation of all Christians. And our nationalist brothers and sisters manage to claim the media limelight more than we do.

What can nonviolent Christians say about a situation where a half-naked man wearing bull’s horns on his head calls on Almighty God for a blessing on his fellow rioters, some of whom were defecating in the halls of the Capital and smearing their waste on the walls? Until today, I’ve been at a complete loss for words. The faces of those around him praying and reaching to heaven confirmed how seriously these men felt that God was on their side. Cultic Christianity was on full display.

The responses to this deadly storming of the Capital have varied. Some Christians are holding prayer vigils. Some are doing a sort of biblical criticism denouncing this form of spiritual expression. Others are sticking their head in the sand — it’s just too horrible to think about. And still others are wondering how we can influence these nationalistic types and basically “convert” them to nonviolence.

My way, as a progressive, contemplative Christian spiritual director, is to simply grieve. To lament. If it were my style, I would cover myself with ashes and rent my clothing in distress. But it’s not my style. I grieve the loss of life; the way it will spread more Coronavirus; the fear it caused for so many of my elected leaders. I grieve how this event makes Christians look, and how this hardness and hatred will drive some people out of the church. I grieve what it all means for the future of our nation.

Like many others, I will watch, wait and pray for better days. And, however you respond to seeing rioters pray over Senate chambers, may it be a way that cultivates hope and deep peace in your life.

This post originally appeared on Patheos.

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.

Grandmothering God…Help us.

guest post from a pastoral letter by Rev. Seth Wispelwey, Interim Pastor at Rincon Congregational UCC in Tucson

“Nana, ayudame.”
 
Grandmother, help me.
 
These were the last words of Carlos “Adrian” Ingram Lopez, the Latino man who was killed by Tucson police while in their custody. Our police department, which recently tried to claim “we’re not Minneapolis,” hid his death for two months from Tucson officials (including our mayor) and the general public.  The horrific 12-minute video of his final moments Earth-side has now been released.
 
Beloved, the great global reckoning we are living through and acting in is now profoundly, specifically, alarmingly here. This is our city. These are our tax dollars. Carlos was our neighbor. Carlos’ family are our neighbors.
 
Beloved, I know so much is overwhelming and stressful and hard right now. This pandemic and its disconnections from full life and presence with one another. The stresses of managing home, work, parenting, and more amidst so much uncertainty. The fires blazing across our Catalina mountains. The would-be fascist regime operating out of the White House. The righteous uprising compelling so many of us to interrogate and deconstruct the poisonous DNA of white supremacy & patriarchy in ourselves and our communities.
 
And now this.
 
Walking is where we find hope and resist defeat. We make the road by walking. Together. Linked in Spirit and the beloved spirits you each possess that our still-speaking God imbues with strength to envision and embody a new Way.  Strength and vision we can only arrive at together.  Remember our scripture this past week?  In-between spitting a lot of righteous fire, Jesus encourages the disciples three times to “have no fear,” to “not be afraid,” and to “fear not.”
 
It’s ok if you’re afraid of the reckoning on our doorstep. That is a natural reaction. The body of togetherness that we call “church” is a hospital for fear. A medical ward for reaffirming hope. A rehab facility for building up the muscles to respond to others’ fear with the power and actions of love. 
 
We are called for such a moment as this. We are called to be the church we emblazon on our banners. 
 
Beloved, I am here for it. Like each of you, I cannot do it alone. Let us grieve, let us rage, let us pray, let us talk, let us walk.
 
And Carlos “Adrian” Ingram Lopez.  Say his name.  Share his story. Speak up. Act out. His family has asked that in any online sharing you also include #NanaAyudame. 
 
Like George Floyd, Carlos couldn’t breathe. He let them know. He cried out for his parent figures while the police let him suffocate.  Just like Jesus on the cross.
 
This hurts, beloved. Let us hold it and walk it together. Let justice come. Resurrection is the insurrection they thought they crucified.
 
Resurrection is tearing down the idols.
 
Resurrection is liberating the captives.
 
Resurrection is abolishing ICE.
 
Resurrection is defunding and dismantling the police.
 
Resurrection is living the truth that Black Lives Matter, that women’s bodies and choices belong to them, that queer folx are fiercely beloved & affirmed by God, that border walls be demolished, that properties become “re-wilded,” and more.
 
Resurrection lives in you.
 
Bring forth reparations, for the kin-dom of God is at hand.
 
Grandmothering God…Help us.
 
Onward,
Rev. Seth

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