Sunday, December 13, 2020

Advent 2020: Week 3: JOY

Hey friends! I'm looking forward to sharing a few words of JOY with you tonight. 


Here's this week's playlist:


And here's a bit of liturgy. Tune in to my instagram at 7 to read with me!


Lighting of  Advent Candles
Incarnate God
God who knows our humanity
who bears our grief
hears our worries  
and shoulders our burdens
Let us choose to rejoice today in your presence
to celebrate the glory of your coming to earth
to revel in the brilliance of your birth
like Mary, whose soul cried out in glee
and John, who leapt in his mother's womb
Let us sing, even dance
Though the world is weary
and our hearts stay heavy
We lay our burdens at your feet tonight
and lift our heavy heads to the heavens
Rejoicing with the angels
For your glory came to dwell with us
In your death we bury our sorrow
and in your resurrection seek the rebirth birth of our Joy.


Psalm 16
Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge.
2 I say to the Lord, “You are my Lord;
    I have no good apart from you.”
...

5 The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup;
    you hold my lot.
6 The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
    indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.

7 I bless the Lord who gives me counsel;
    in the night also my heart instructs me.[d]
8 I have set the Lord always before me;
    because he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.

9 Therefore my heart is glad, and my whole being[e] rejoices;
    my flesh also dwells secure.
10 For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol,
    or let your holy one see corruption.[f]

11 You make known to me the path of life;
    in your presence there is fullness of joy;
    at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.


Habakuk 3:17-19

Though the fig tree should not blossom,
    nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail
    and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold
    and there be no herd in the stalls,
18 yet I will rejoice in the Lord;
    I will take joy in the God of my salvation.
19 God, the Lord, is my strength;
    he makes my feet like the deer's;
    he makes me tread on my high places.


John 16: 16-24

16 Jesus went on to say, “In a little while you will see me no more, and then after a little while you will see me.”

17 At this, some of his disciples said to one another, “What does he mean by saying, ‘In a little while you will see me no more, and then after a little while you will see me,’ and ‘Because I am going to the Father’?” 18 They kept asking, “What does he mean by ‘a little while’? We don’t understand what he is saying.”

19 Jesus saw that they wanted to ask him about this, so he said to them, “Are you asking one another what I meant when I said, ‘In a little while you will see me no more, and then after a little while you will see me’? 20 Very truly I tell you, you will weep and mourn while the world rejoices. You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy. 21 A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world. 22 So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy. 23 In that day you will no longer ask me anything. Very truly I tell you, my Father will give you whatever you ask in my name. 24 Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete.

Reading:
Chapter 21 of Honest Advent by Scott Erickson
A Sky Full of Children by Madeline L'Engle 

Closing Prayer:
God of Joy
Restore in us tonight and throughout this season
the Joy of our salvation
Break the barriers within us
the unhealthy walls we have built
within our spirits
the restraints that hold us back from true gladness
the binding lies that tell us we are anything but your beloved children
Change our hearts, oh God, from wells of bitterness and fear
to springs of gladness
streams of living water
fountains of freedom
overflowing with the fullness of your joy




Sunday, December 6, 2020

Advent 2020 Week 2: PEACE

Well, friends. This week has been a crazy busy week, and I haven't had as much time to prepare a reading on Peace as I would have liked, but I'm showing up again on this second Sunday of Advent hoping that the God of Peace will calm my spirit a bit and meet us all where we are in the midst of this hectic season that for many of us is anything but peaceful!

Here's this week's playlist:



And here's tonight's liturgy for you. Tune in to my instagram at 7 (just a few minutes) to read with me!


Lighting of the First and Second Advent Candles

God of Peace.
Still our hearts 
Which these days feel too weak and weary to welcome the beauty of your kingdom
Quiet our minds
Which stay awake too many nights worrying over unresolved conflicts
Comfort our spirits
As we wrestle with all that we do not understand about this world you created.
Remind us again of your command 
That we should not fear
For your child is born among us
And the whole earth is ruled
By the Prince of Peace.


Isaiah 9:2-8
2 [c] The people who walked in darkness
    have seen a great light;
those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness,
    on them has light shone.
3 You have multiplied the nation;
    you have increased its joy;
they rejoice before you
    as with joy at the harvest,
    as they are glad when they divide the spoil.
4 For the yoke of his burden,
    and the staff for his shoulder,
    the rod of his oppressor,
    you have broken as on the day of Midian.
5 For every boot of the tramping warrior in battle tumult
    and every garment rolled in blood
    will be burned as fuel for the fire.
6 For to us a child is born,
    to us a son is given;
and the government shall be upon[d] his shoulder,
    and his name shall be called[e]
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
    Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
7 Of the increase of his government and of peace
    there will be no end,
on the throne of David and over his kingdom,
    to establish it and to uphold it
with justice and with righteousness
    from this time forth and forevermore.
The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this.

Matthew 2:2-23
2 Now after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, wise men[a] from the east came to Jerusalem, 2 saying, “Where is he who has been born king of the Jews? For we saw his star when it rose[b] and have come to worship him.” 3 When Herod the king heard this, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him; 4 and assembling all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Christ was to be born. 5 They told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea, for so it is written by the prophet:

6 “‘And you, O Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
    are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
for from you shall come a ruler
    who will shepherd my people Israel.’”

7 Then Herod summoned the wise men secretly and ascertained from them what time the star had appeared. 8 And he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “Go and search diligently for the child, and when you have found him, bring me word, that I too may come and worship him.” 9 After listening to the king, they went on their way. And behold, the star that they had seen when it rose went before them until it came to rest over the place where the child was. 10 When they saw the star, they rejoiced exceedingly with great joy. 11 And going into the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshiped him. Then, opening their treasures, they offered him gifts, gold and frankincense and myrrh. 12 And being warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they departed to their own country by another way.

The Flight to Egypt
13 Now when they had departed, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, “Rise, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you, for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.” 14 And he rose and took the child and his mother by night and departed to Egypt 15 and remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet, “Out of Egypt I called my son.”

Herod Kills the Children
16 Then Herod, when he saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, became furious, and he sent and killed all the male children in Bethlehem and in all that region who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had ascertained from the wise men. 17 Then was fulfilled what was spoken by the prophet Jeremiah:

18 “A voice was heard in Ramah,
    weeping and loud lamentation,
Rachel weeping for her children;
    she refused to be comforted, because they are no more.”

The Return to Nazareth
19 But when Herod died, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt, 20 saying, “Rise, take the child and his mother and go to the land of Israel, for those who sought the child's life are dead.” 21 And he rose and took the child and his mother and went to the land of Israel. 22 But when he heard that Archelaus was reigning over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there, and being warned in a dream he withdrew to the district of Galilee. 23 And he went and lived in a city called Nazareth, so that what was spoken by the prophets might be fulfilled, that he would be called a Nazarene.


Reading: 
Chapter 17 of Honest Advent by Scott Erickson
Christ's History and Ours by Gustavo Gutierrez

Closing Prayer:
Prince of Peace,
Fill us with your power and
Light within us the flame of justice and mercy
And show us where we are called
To bring your government of grace to earth
Liberate the captives
And break the chains of oppression
That we may see your kingdom of peace
On earth as it is in heaven



Sunday, November 29, 2020

Advent 2020: Week 1- HOPE

For a few years, I have been wanting to host a weekly gathering during the advent season, but I've always come up with some excuse not to: I have roommates... I'm directing a holiday musical... the season just snuck up on me... and so on. Since 2020 is quite possibly the worst year in history for in-person gatherings, it would have been easy to come up with another good excuse not to try it this year. But this has also been the year where Advent, this season of waiting for God to show up in the flesh, feels most vital. And if 2020 has taught me anything, it's that I can handle an online gathering... 

So I'm trying something new this year.  Each Sunday at 7pm  during this Advent season, I'll be sharing a little liturgy for advent: a few prayers, poems, and readings live on my Instagram page (@thesarahrock), as well as sharing everything here on this trusty, 'ol blog. I'll also post a link here to a weekly Spotify playlist themed because you know I love a seasonal playlist..


Here's this week's playlist:



And here's the liturgy for tonight... read it at home with your family, or tune in to my instagram at 7 to read with me!

December Rainbow 
(by me)

In the cold of winter all seems dim
as the light fades early
before the dinner bell rings
 
Yet in this waning light a spark of hope ignites
followed soon by peace, joy and love
kindled in the cozy calm of these silent nights
 
Like an infant nursing at his mother’s breast
in the last light of the December dusk
or the solitary flicker of the season’s first candle 
wavering in a drafty chapel
Hope seems tiny, fragile, too frail for the advancing cold
 
But then, one bright ray emerges
pushing through the dark chill of an overcast morn.
Suddenly light bursts forth through winter rain.
Though the storm still churns overhead
brilliance rises with the sun below.
 
And I catch my breath.
In awe of the colors dawning before me.
Aglow again with the magnificent promise of Hope.


Lighting of the Advent Candle

Creator God,
Gather with us on this holy night
As we come together in unconventional spaces
To begin the Advent season,
a time of anticipation and waiting
at the end of a year that has already stretched our patience to its brink
Reveal to us tonight the hope represented by this candle
The promise of heaven born to a dying earth.
The healing hope of Jesus 
Light of the world.

Psalm 130: 5-8
5 I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,
    and in his word I hope;
6 my soul waits for the Lord
    more than watchmen for the morning,
    more than watchmen for the morning.

7 O Israel, hope in the Lord!
    For with the Lord there is steadfast love,
    and with him is plentiful redemption.
8 And he will redeem Israel
    from all his iniquities.

Luke 1:39-56
Mary Visits Elizabeth
39 In those days Mary arose and went with haste into the hill country, to a town in Judah, 40 and she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. 41 And when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, the baby leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit, 42 and she exclaimed with a loud cry, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! 43 And why is this granted to me that the mother of my Lord should come to me? 44 For behold, when the sound of your greeting came to my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. 45 And blessed is she who believed that there would be[a] a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord.”

Mary's Song of Praise: The Magnificat
46 And Mary said,

“My soul magnifies the Lord,
47     and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
48 for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant.
    For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
49 for he who is mighty has done great things for me,
    and holy is his name.
50 And his mercy is for those who fear him
    from generation to generation.
51 He has shown strength with his arm;
    he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts;
52 he has brought down the mighty from their thrones
    and exalted those of humble estate;
53 he has filled the hungry with good things,
    and the rich he has sent away empty.
54 He has helped his servant Israel,
    in remembrance of his mercy,
55 as he spoke to our fathers,
    to Abraham and to his offspring forever.”

56 And Mary remained with her about three months and returned to her home.

Reading: 
"Waiting for God" by Henri Nouwen

Closing Prayer:
God of Hope
Renew us in this season of waiting
As we lift our eyes in expectation, 
Our hearts in adoration,
Or perhaps our hands in frustration
Reveal to us this week the promise of new life
Born in a tiny baby 
Carried by a teenage mother
Who chose community in her season of waiting
And believed the voice of the angel 
Saying do not fear
Like Mary, we will wait without worry
Choosing to hope in the promise of abundant life
not by way of Empire, or consumerism 
but through the counter-cultural Kingdom of Jesus Christ
Emmanuel
God with us.

Friday, September 25, 2020

Dressing Our Wounds

 As many of you may know, I recently moved to Atlanta and this month started a new job as an English teacher at a private high school here (not a perfect excuse, but at least a good explanation for the two month lapse in posts here). Over the summer, all of the students in our school read Rising out of Hatred: The Awakening of a Former White Nationalist and my classes have spent the past two weeks discussing and writing about it. The book, written by Washington Post reporter Eli Saslow, details the racial awakening of Derek Black, godson of David Duke and son of Don Black, a former KKK grand wizard and founder of the white nationalist online forum Stormfront. After a childhood seeped in racist ideology, Derek was a rising star in the White Nationalist movement, well on his way to following in the footsteps of his father and godfather, but after leaving home to attend New College, a liberal arts school in Sarasota, Florida, he began to question whether the ideals he was raised with were really worth fighting for. Eventually, through relationships and dialogue with people outside of his White Nationalist bubble, Derek experienced a turnaround and renounced his beliefs with an op-ed in the New York Times. 


In discussing the book, I found my students had no trouble relating to Alison and Matthew, the characters who slowly pushed Derek to reconsider his worldview, but were quick to disassociate with Derek’s blind spots around race. I specifically challenged my advanced classes to consider the stages of Derek’s “awakening” as it related to the formation of their own understandings and biases around race and class, but most struggled to draw parallels. Yet, as America finds itself in this moment of racial reckoning, I remain convinced that we (specifically those of us who were raised in white, judeo-christian, middle-class communities) must continue to recognize, talk about, and, like Derek Black finally did, repent of the ways in which we have allowed and participated in racism. We may not have been raised by the KKK, but subtle acts of racism are in many ways even more insidious than outright bigotry, so we must commit to correcting our blind spots and addressing the injustices we once overlooked.


Specifically, I feel particularly called to keep speaking out against the ways in which I continue to see too many White evangelicals pushing back against the call to uproot racist structures in our churches and communities. I have seen an alarming number of posts on social media from conservative Christians decrying books like White Fragility and How to be an Antiracist as “dangerous” texts, denouncing “Critical Race Theory” as “Marxist indoctrination,” and “Godless” false teaching, full of heretical ideas threatening to corrupt the church from within. I expect this kind of rhetoric from politicians like Trump, who released an executive order this week essentially barring government agencies from diversity trainings that acknowledge racial bias, and wants to keep teachers like me from indoctrinating the youth of America with unpatriotic ideas (you know, like, equality, freedom, and justice for all), but it wounds my spirit to hear the same talking points from those who claim to follow Jesus-- a man who, I will not stop pointing out, was actually a religious and cultural minority unjustly executed under the authority of a powerful empire. I can’t ignore the hypocrisy of those who are quick to warn against the dangers of  being “led astray” by “worldly” economic and social theories, but continue to avoid deep consideration of the ways in which equally Godless and, in my opinion, more problematic ideologies like colonialism, nationalism, capitalism, patriarchy, and White supremacy have already corrupted our theology, ruptured our church communities, hurt people of color, and removed credibility from our witness to anyone on the outside looking in. (Side note: I won’t go any further into Critical Race Theory today but for anyone looking for a thorough analysis of the ideology from a Christian perspective: check blogger Bradly Mason’s four part series The Christian and Critical Race Theory).


I recently saw someone use Romans 8:1 “There is now therefore no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus,” as an argument for why White Christians should not be “shamed” into thinking critically about race. In this person’s mind, what Paul calls “condemnation” is equivalent to the guilt and shame that often arises for white people when we begin to look deeply at structural racism and privilege. But I understand this scripture differently. The fact that God’s grace frees us from condemnation should allow us MORE fortitude to examine and confess the ugliest depths of our sins- including not just our own individual biases, but also the systemic and collective sins of our forefathers--historic sins that built oppressive systems benefitting us while hurting those we should consider our neighbors. Just because we are not condemned by our sins does not mean that we can pretend they never happened. Two chapters earlier in Romans, Paul says, “What then? Are we to sin because we are not under law but under grace? By no means!” 


As a beloved community united under grace, it is imperative that we “confess our sins to one another and pray for one another so that we may be healed.” (James 5:16).  Wendell Berry refers to racism in America as “a hidden wound,” a deep and painful cut infecting us from within. Without confession, the wound continues to fester, poisoning more and more of our parts, until the whole body becomes septic. The words of the prophet Jeremiah come to mind: “They dress the wound of my people as if it were not serious. Peace, Peace, they say, when there is no peace.” Racism is a scourge that hurts people made in the image of God and none of us in America are immune to it. We have been papering over the pain of our black and brown brothers and sisters for far too long. Now is the time to confess our callousness and repent of our part in their pain. Now is the time to listen to their heartbreak & obey the command to "weep with those who weep." We cannot say “Peace, Peace,” until all of God's people have peace. Like the people of Zion, American Christians stand at a crossroads. May we listen to the LORD, “ask where the good way is, and walk in it.” (Jeremiah 6:16)

Thursday, June 18, 2020

Antiracist Resources for Jesus Followers

Confession: I'm not the best at follow-through sometimes. There is a reason my blog posts are so few and far between. So please forgive me for promising to post resources "tomorrow" and then waiting over two weeks to actually complete the task. Though I've been doing a lot of my own research and sharing various resources & food-for-thought daily on my social media platforms, I promised to provide some specific resources specifically for friends who believe in Jesus, and must apologize for how long it's actually taken me to sit down and compile my resources.

Please also consider this disclaimer: THIS IS NOT AN EXHAUSTIVE LIST OF RESOURCES. If the past two weeks of internet rabbit holes have taught me anything, it's that there is SO MUCH INFORMATION OUT THERE if you are open and willing to seek it out, so please don't limit yourself to what I share. These are just a few personal recommendations that have been meaningful and helpful to me. As a white, Christian woman whose faith was formed in a variety of non-denominational evangelical churches and ministries, I am particularly invested in understanding and uprooting white supremacy as it exists within my understanding of theology and experiences within the church, and believe it is the greatest deception and distraction from the true gospel of Jesus. As an educator and theatre artist, I am interested in unlearning and uprooting racist patterns in these spaces, too, but for the purpose of this post, my focus is on the intersection of racism and Christianity.

There are several anti-racist google docs floating around the interwebs these days, but as an educator, I found this document to be one of the best, most comprehensive resources I have seen anywhere. It not only breaks up resources into scaffolded stages of learning around racism, but also differentiates types of resources (podcasts, articles, nonfiction, fiction, etc.), and provides resources for  and links to several other excellent lists of resources. It also provides articles specifically addressed at various religious ideologies. Here are its links to some resources directly related to Christianity:

Disunity in Christ (Christena Cleveland)
Reconciliation Blues (Edward Gilbreath)
Trouble I’ve Seen (Drew G. I. Hart)
Dear White Christians (Jennifer Harvey)
Divided by Faith (Michael Emerson and Christian Smith)

In addition to this list, here are a few more videos, podcasts, articles, and books I personally have found engaging and educational.

First of all, for anyone still trying to wrap their head around the idea of systemic racism this video narrated by none other than the voice of Bob the Tomato provides an insightful survey of the concept:



Want more? Phil's podcast / youtube channel has several other interviews and videos that further unpack these ideas. But while Bob the Tomato has proven to be a better resource than I ever could have imagined, and may be a great place to start for many, I also want to challenge my friends (and especially my white friends) in the church to make sure we are seeking out diverse voices and challenging our blind spots when it comes to race by listening to the stories of people of color, and especially Black people at this moment.

One of the most valuable voices I have listened to over the past few weeks has been Austin Channing Brown, whose book I'm Still Here: Black Dignity in a World Made for Whiteness is a powerful and challenging memoir about the experience of being a Black woman in predominantly white and male dominated evangelical spaces. Be forewarned: if you are a White Christian, this book will likely sting a little. It certainly did for me, as I was challenged to re-think more than a few past situations in which even my well-meaning attempts at growth may have still caused (and continue to cause) hurt for my black sisters in Christ. But it also challenged me to keep working through my fragility and recommit to listening better to the voices of those on the margins, which, I think, is exactly what Jesus was up to when he took a detour through Samaria,  healed the bleeding woman who reached out to him,  hushed his disciples when they tried to discredit the woman washing his feet with her tears, etc...

I love read-by-the-author audiobooks and really enjoyed listening to the Austin Channing Brown's narration of this title, which was a nice road-trip companion on my way to my family vacation this week (side note: if you're an Audible subscriber, did you know you can pay the same price and support a local bookstore by making the switch to Libro.fm!?),  but if you're not quite ready for a whole four hours with Ms. Brown,  no sweat. Just start with one of these podcast interviews:

Speaking of podcasts, I happen to be a big fan of learning via podcasts, so I started an antiracist playlist that I'm slowly working through on Spotify. Some podcasts specifically apply to Christian listeners, some are more secular, but all have been highly educational for me! Listen with me here.

Finally, here are some ministries and studies focused specifically on the concept of racial healing within Christian communities. Though I have not personally used all of these resources, they come highly recommended by christian leaders, friends, and organizations I know are actively working to dismantle racist systems and ideologies from within the church:

Arrabon: this is a ministry I support and love that has created some great, short resources to get folks started in understanding the need for racial reconcilliation and healing in the church. These short videos are a great a primer for anyone seeking to understand why this work is so urgently needed within the church. Arrabon also provides live trainings and an exceptional class called Race, Class, and the Kingdom of God.

Be The Bridge
  This is a Christian Reconciliation ministry whose main focus is group studies designed for mixed race groups,  but they also have a whiteness intensive course designed to challenge & call white people to examine their privilege in order to be better ministers of the gospel in our racially divided culture. I have also been following their instagram and listening to their podcasts.

Road Map to Reconciliation this book is specifically designed for church leaders and I've heard my own pastors sing its praises. The author has also written several other books that look good! 

The Color of Compromise this is a book with a companion video study on Amazon prime that explores the history of racism within the church. I am currently reading it and learning so much! Join me.

Vernon Gordon / Mosaic this is a local pastor in Richmond who is leading a study / discussion series on race that I have found personally challenging and enriching lately. The website has some great videos on the history of racism in America! At the very least, follow @vernongordon on instagram!

Truth's Table this is a podcast featuring three black women discussing theology, culture, etc. As I said before, I think it is really important to listen to diverse voices in the church. Until a few years ago, I was largely only pastored by white men which limited my access to feminist and liberation focused theologies. This podcast, along with Proverbial, a podcast led by two incredible female leaders from within my own church, has widened the lens through which I read the bible and view the world and I'm so grateful that technology has allowed me to come to the digital table and learn from more black women.

I hope these resources will be helpful to anyone who is interested in learning and growing in their faith as it pertains to the work of antiracism. I will continue sharing resources on social media and on this blog and welcome your thoughts, questions, and dialogue. I am still very much a work in progress and do not wish to paint myself as any sort of expert. I am not a pastor, historian, or theologian by any means. Rather, I am simply a teacher, critical thinker, and lifelong learner who is trying to educate myself and those around me as we grow together. One of my mottos for the classroom is Keep going, Keep growing, and I think it especially applies here. I hope you'll join me in pressing on towards truth and unity in our churches, families, and communities!



Tuesday, June 2, 2020

Dear, white Christians: Loving your neighbor means repenting of your complicity in white supremacy.

On Wednesday, July 6, 2016 Philando Castile, a black man, was shot and killed by a police officer while reaching for his driver’s license. He bled to death in his car while his fiancee live-streamed the gruesome scene on Facebook. On July 7, at an otherwise peaceful protest, a gunman opened fire, shooting twelve police officers and killing five. On July 11, I went to church. In fact, I went to church twice that day. Not that I am particularly devout-- the truth is, I had recently moved and had started visiting the church my roommates attended in our neighborhood, but was still also attending the hip, young, and mostly white non-denominational church I had been going to before the move, mostly because there were more potentially single men my age in attendance there. But I digress…


On that Sunday, the news cycle was starting to calm down from the events of earlier in the week, the details of which, I’ll be honest, I had only gleaned from clicking and skimming through a few articles. Like many other white churchgoers that morning, I had been insulated from the gut-punch this week had been to the black community and would have stayed that way if I had only attended one church that day, but we’ll get to that. The lead pastor was actually out of town on summer vacation with his family, so the associate pastor took the pulpit. He opened with something like “Whew, what a week. Last time [Lead Pastor] was out of town [some other national crisis] happened, I need to tell him to stop traveling, am I right?” A few church members chuckled, a few seemed slightly uncomfortable. No matter. The pastor continued on with his sermon as planned, no more mention of the news, no pause to pray for the clear division in our nation. Just the regularly scheduled sermon series, communion, and a couple of worship songs to “close us out.”  In all honesty, I didn’t think too much of it either.  To me, this felt like a pretty normal Sunday morning response to the newsweek. Ultimately, the events of the week hadn’t made much of a direct impact on many of the mostly white, middle-class congregation, so what was there to lament?


That afternoon, I attended another church, East End Fellowship, which, though far from perfect, strives to be a multicultural church and place of unity in the east end of Richmond. I brought a commitment card with me that had been mailed out a few weeks earlier. The church had been asking its attendees to prayerfully consider what their financial, service, and attendance commitments to the church should be and was scheduled to have a special service that day. I hadn’t filled out my card yet, but as it turned out, I wouldn’t need to. “We’ve got to change gears today. This is a time for lament,” our worship pastor Erin Rose told us. The service that day was different than any I’d attended before. We sang songs that called out for justice, for the spirit of God to pour out and heal our land. Mics were set up for congregants to come forward and pray out loud. Young black men prayed against fear, begging God for protection and justice. Black mothers grieved for the futures of their teenage sons, crying out to Jesus with the opening lines of Psalm 13, “How long, O Lord?” It was a humbling moment for me. Why hadn’t I realized how heavy these events were weighing on the people I had been worshipping with for weeks? For the first time, I was face to face with the collective trauma and grief that black communities feel when they see black bodies being brutalized again and again without consequence. I was far from understanding the structures of systemic racism that lead to this oppression, but I was no longer able to look away from the emotional toll it was taking on my spiritual family.


I recognize that communities where black and white people can worship together are incredibly rare in our country. So rare, in fact, that my friend David & his ministry Arrabon made this documentary about our community (its title, 11AM, is based on a MLK Jr. quote which states that 11AM is “America’s most segregated hour”).  I should also say that even at East End, it takes hard, sometimes exhausting work to find unity in our worship as a multicultural community, and a greater load of that work almost always falls on black congregants, whose trauma is re-lived and re-activated every time they have to explain or justify it to a well-meaning white friend. That said, my experience attending a church (in case you haven’t figured out, East End is where I ended up spending the rest of my Sundays, and many other days, after that one) where not everyone looks like me has transformed my understanding and empathy for the lived experience of racism in this country, and has brought me deeper into my calling to live as a follower of Christ. Which brings me to my main point:


If you are a white person in America and you call yourself a follower of Jesus, listen closely: if you are not asking God to help you recognize, call out, and dismantle systemic racism and the lie of white supremacy in your heart, church, and country, you are ignoring Jesus' command to love your neighbor as yourself. Period. 


Let me help break it down a little more: we live in a country that from its inception has built social and economic systems that value and protect the majority culture while devaluing and brutalizing the lives of those in the minority. Nowhere is this more clear than in what we are watching play out on national news right now. Yet by and large, a majority of white Christians, myself included for many years, have ignored and minimized the trauma caused to minorities and their communities. I've been disheartened this week as I've watched the social media feeds of many of my non-believing friends as they've condemned racist policing and called for justice, but from former pastors, mentors, and friends who I constantly see posting bible verses and Jesus memes, crickets. Or worse, posts shaming rioters but not speaking a word against the systemic racism that led to the deaths of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd. (for more context on the history and necessity of violent protest in America, read this).


In his letter to the Phillippians, Paul tells Christians : then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind.  Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others. How can Christians read this scripture and still continue to have a calloused hearts towards the pain and fury of those who don’t look like them? How can we celebrate God’s victory over slavery in the book of Exodus and not hear the voices of his children still crying out for freedom from oppressive systems? How can we read through the Psalms and ignore the laments of mothers crying out for their sons? Are we even reading the same bible?


Part of the problem for white American Christians is that our churches exist largely in communities that are already predominantly segregated by race and class. We spend our time reading our Bibles and working out our theology around other people who look like us and so it just doesn’t occur to us, like it didn’t fully occur to me four years ago, that there is another America processing the world very differently from us. But that ignorance, whether willful or not, is robbing us of our opportunity to bring the hope of unity in Christ into a broken world. Increasingly, Christianity is seen by outsiders as the religion not of the oppressed but of the oppressor. I don’t believe that has ever been God’s vision for his church, but I absolutely think the devil has made centuries long work of tying us (white Christians) institutionally with the chains of white supremacy. If we truly want to defeat “the principalities, powers, and rulers of the darkness of this world” (Ephesians 4)  we must ask God to reveal our blind spots and call us to repentance of both the individual and generational sin of racism. 


I hope this is getting to you. Maybe you’ve been reeling for the past few weeks already, but feel trapped and powerless to begin unpacking what you, as a white person can do about it. Maybe you’ve been standing on the edge of this conversation for years, afraid of the cost of jumping in fully. Maybe something I said offended you or made you uncomfortable. I would challenge you to lean into that discomfort. Instead of building up defenses, think about why this idea bothers you. Recognizing that systemic racism is a collective sin that all white people benefit from in some way is a really hard thing to swallow. But as Christians, rather than looking for ways we can justify or make excuses for our sin, we can find freedom in the knowledge that “the sacrifices of God are a broken spirit and a contrite heart.” My prayer for all white Christians in America right now is that we would continually be broken and called to repentance over the racism of our nation and that God would give us the humility and power to sacrifice our comfort as we learn to truly and actively love our neighbors as ourselves. 


Tomorrow I will be sharing a post with more resources for white Christians to engage better with their understanding of racism. In order to be a witness to our increasingly divided world, it is not enough for Christians to claim that we are not racist, we must learn to be antiracist, and there are many resources out there to equip us to do this work.



Monday, January 16, 2017

On MLK and Getting Woke

"Any religion that professes to be concerned about the souls of [people] and is not concerned about the slums that damn them, the economic conditions that strangle them and the social conditions that cripple them is a spiritually moribund religion awaiting burial."


-Martin Luther King, Jr.

When I was in 8th grade, I went on a mission trip to Tunica, Mississippi with my youth group. By that point in school, I had already sat through several Black History Month assemblies where I had learned about segregation and the civil rights movement. I had been assigned projects on civil rights leaders and had watched dramatic interpretations of the feel-good parts of MLK’s “I Have a Dream Speech.” But like most of the other middle-class white kids in my youth group, I had easily accepted the idea that though segregation and racism had been a big problem in our nation’s past, racial equality was no longer really a problem. As I understood it, the signing of the Civil Rights Act had legally ended Jim Crow laws and barred segregation, therefore the problem of racial injustice had been solved.


That summer in Mississippi, as we drove our church van from the perfectly manicured, white-picket-fenced side of Tunica, across a literal set of railroad tracks, and into the black slums of the same southern town, I was rocked to discover the chasm that still gaped wide in our country, even this many years after civil rights.


On Sunday, the trip leaders divided us into small groups and sent each group to attend a different church in town. Like any other institution we encountered in Tunica, the churches we visited were staunchly divided along racial lines. I remember my initial disappointment that my group had been assigned to attend a predominantly white church, mostly because I was more interested in gospel music than stuffy hymns.  By the end of the service, though, my disappointment about worship styles had quickly shifted to indignation, as it  dawned on me that all of these people who claimed to be Christians were worshipping Jesus and thanking “God from whom all blessings flow,” while less than two miles away, in their own community, people of color were facing economic struggles like nothing my sheltered 13 year old eyes had ever seen before. While there may have been people within the church who were serving in the community in other ways during the week, there certainly was no crossing of racial lines within the church that sunday morning.


That short trip planted a seed in my heart that would one day bloom into a real desire to build relationships and work for equality across racial lines. Long before white privilege was a thing we talked about, I got a glimpse into how much of my education and access to opportunity was a result of the circumstances, family, and race into which I had been born. Yet, as often happens with middle school missions trips, once I returned home to my comfortable and mostly-white community, I became absorbed in the busyness and angst of teenage life and didn’t think much about race or racial inequality until years later.


One thing I’ve since learned about privilege is that racial inequality is not something that white people have to think or deal with if they don’t want to. Once the struggles of the black community I’d visited in Mississippi were out of sight, it was easy to put them out of mind. I attended a predominantly white high school, then went to a predominantly white university, then moved to the predominantly white Pacific Northwest. Along the way, I was able to comfortably explore and discuss race from an academic and artistic standpoint, but rarely did I dialogue about race in mixed company and hardly ever in a way that intentionally opened doors for reconciliation or social change.


But moving back to the south five years ago, and to the Church Hill neighborhood of Richmond just over a year ago, the topic has come up with more frequency than ever before in my life, and I have chosen to open myself up and learn what it means to be a friend and ally for my black friends, students, and neighbors who even today are still reeling from the legacy of slavery, Jim Crow, and the subsequent political and economic injustices that have plagued their communities.


For me, this means initiating more conversations about social justice, and using my unique platform as a theatre educator to tell diverse stories and empower students of color. Unfortunately, as I’ve become more comfortable exploring this topic, I’ve experienced pushback from white friends who don’t understand why “black lives matter” is a movement that matters to me.


It is certainly easier for many of us to avoid talking and thinking about these things. The conversations that exist around the issue of race and racism are often not easy and can lead to uncomfortable feelings on both sides. Friendships can be lost. Toes can get stepped on. But the only way that things will ever change is if we step into the mess that exists and get our hands and hearts dirty.


I read a Martin Luther King Jr. quote today that, woefully, can apply as much to our current political climate now as it did to his over 50 years ago:

"Whenever I am asked my opinion of the current state of the civil rights movement, I am forced to pause; it is not easy to describe a crisis so profound that it has caused the most powerful nation in the world to stagger in confusion and bewilderment. Today’s problems are so acute because the tragic evasions and defaults of several centuries have accumulated to disaster proportions. The luxury of a leisurely approach to urgent solutions—the ease of gradualism—was forfeited by ignoring the issues for too long. The nation waited until the black man was explosive with fury before stirring itself even to partial concern. Confronted now with the interrelated problems of war, inflation, urban decay, white backlash and a climate of violence, it is now forced to address itself to race relations and poverty, and it is tragically unprepared. What might once have been a series of separate problems now merge into a social crisis of almost stupefying complexity."


So today, on the birthday of this man who fought so diligently and spoke out so poetically for a dream that has yet to be achieved, I want to urge more of my white brothers and sisters to open their eyes and hearts to the injustice that still exists in our country and become a part of this conversation. At the very least, learn what the conversation is about.


It’s easy to accept the textbook answer about civil rights. To see a black president elected and to think that the problem of equality has been solved. But there is a deeper history that exists, injustices that still need to be rectified, economic problems with roots in slavery and the Jim Crow era that have continued to shackle much of the black community to a cycle of poverty. And until people in power begin to recognize and deal with these problems, change cannot happen.


If you have grown up with any degree of privilege, as I have, this is not an easy thing to step into. You will probably experience guilt, anger, and frustration. You may find yourself offended or heavily burdened. None of these are good feelings. But especially for those of us who call ourselves Christians, we cannot turn a blind eye to the legacy of racism in our country.  We cannot be the last ones to come to the table on this issue.


As MLK himself said in his very last speech, as he preached the parable of the good Samaritan:


“the first question that the priest asked -- the first question that the Levite asked was, "If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?" But then the Good Samaritan came by. And he reversed the question: "If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?"


So how do we help? As a white woman, I have a lot of insecurity about “helping” people of color. I know the white savior mentality can strip power from communities and people of color. But simply educating myself to understand and be able to talk about the complexity of race, power and what it has meant in our nation and in my community has at least been a starting step in that direction for me. The young people call it “getting woke.”



If you need some help getting started on your journey of wokeness, here are a few ideas:


  1. Read lots of things. Start with this silly article about the 7 stages of white people getting woke.  Click all the links. Let it be your gateway drug.  Don’t understand white privilege? Look it up. The internet is chock full of articles that will break it down for you. Like and share essays and articles on the subject that your woke friends are posting on Facebook. I even have a friend with a facebook group called “White Folk Get Woke.” Request to join. Tell her I sent you.


  1. Discover black art and stories. For starters, watch Roots if you’ve never seen it. Then the Color Purple. Do the Right Thing. 12 Years a Slave. Fences. Thirteenth. (Maybe pace yourself a bit, unless you want crawl into a hole and cry for three weeks straight.) Go to an African American art exhibit somewhere. If a Kehinde Wiley exhibit rolls through your town like it did mine, go look at those beautiful paintings. Read novels and poems by black writers. See a play by August Wilson.


  1. Feel your feelings. As I said before, you may find yourself burdened, angry, even broken by the things you learn as you begin to go down this rabbit hole. That pain means you’re starting to feel a fragment of what black people in this country have felt. If you’re a Christian, that pain is also something that Jesus understands. Cry out to God with that pain. Lament for the sins of our nation. Pray that doors will be opened for you to speak truth into darkness.


  1. Build authentic relationships with people of color. This is a difficult step as it can be easy for white people to objectify black friends during their journey of “getting woke.” Many of us have that one black friend or co-worker, and chances are your one black friend is the one black friend for even more white people, so she may be sick of helping her white friends understand racism. Don’t be afraid to open up conversations about the topic, but be sensitive to the burden of educating white people that many people of color feel. That said, maybe try to have more than one black friend. For me, being a part of a church that was committed to diversity has allowed me to begin building relationships with people who come from different cultural backgrounds than me. Being involved in the arts community has also connected me to a more diverse group of people, not just in terms of race, but in terms of sexuality and gender identity as well.


  1. Find a safe place to have hard conversations. If you live in or are close to Richmond, there is a non-profit named Arrabon that is committed to opening up this dialogue. They are hosting a conference in March with just this agenda. Sign up to attend with friends who are also interested in being a part of this conversation. Maybe I’ll see you there ;)

  1. Speak up. Admittedly, this has been the hardest part for me. Most of the time, I don’t feel like I know enough, have experienced enough, or that this is even my story to tell. And I worry about the ways in which speaking out might invite negative commentary into my life. But sadly, we live in a world where white voices are more often listened to than black voices. So when the time comes, speak. If the length of this post is any indication, you may find you have more to say than you realized.