It's Time To Do The Work
On July 20th I received in an email a prayer by Elizabeth Behrens titled A Prayer of Acknowledgement & Lament. It was, for all intents and purposes, the groaning of a saint over the pain being witnessed here on earth. Though I didn’t know it at the time, this prayer would become an important answer to the questions I had long been asking:
“what do we – as followers of Christ – do now? After months of violence, protests, hundreds of social media campaigns, and countless articles and livestreams, how can we practically respond to the long and hard question of racism; the social and cultural polarization over the use of face masks, the pending election that is projected to deepen our nation’s political divide even further?”
I now know Behrens’ prayer was the perfect balm for my pain and the beginning of a transformative journey to discover how we, the people of God and of goodwill, can begin to heal our communities and our nation. This letter is an attempt to share with you what I have discovered thus far.
We are living through one of the most difficult and painful times in modern history. Unlike the rest of the world, America has experienced not one, but two pandemics. The coronavirus is not only attacking our human and public health, it is exposing the structural and racial inequities that exist across our nation.
However, these last six months have not only found us vulnerable to a virus. They have exposed an insidious social ill that many in our country thought we had all but left behind. This virus of systemic racism has not just momentarily ravaged our nation’s health, it has devastated black and brown communities for centuries. In this moment, it is crystal clear that we need more than physical healing – we need spiritual and social healing even more.
Theodore Parker, a theologian and minister born in 1810, used his pulpit and platform to call for the abolition of slavery. In 1853 he penned a collection of sermons including one titled “Of Justice and the Conscience” that included figurative language about the arc of the moral universe:
I do not pretend to understand the moral universe, the arc is a long one, my eye reaches but little ways. I cannot calculate the curve and complete the figure by the experience of sight; I can divine it by conscience. But from what I see I am sure it bends towards justice.
But over 150 years later, many are asking if it is still possible to ‘bend the arc of history toward justice’ given what seems to be a now insurmountable feat. Yet, I believe it is no accident that the issues of racism, racial and income inequality, and social animus are being laid at the doorstep of the Church. Rather, it seems obvious that the work of parts of the church throughout history remains undone. For this reason, we should see this time not as a reckoning, but as an opportunity to lean into a calling left woefully incomplete. We must recognize that a stain that took 400 years to fully set racial injustice into our country’s DNA will require more than a century to remove. And it is up to each us to not just recognize that such a stain exists, but to take action.
And so, it’s time to do the work.
My hunch is that the answer to healing the scourge of racism begins with empathy, and with our return to conversing civilly with those at the center of the crisis – in particular the people who find themselves on the receiving end of it. For it is the power of empathy that brings us together and exposes us to the ideas and perspectives we naturally self-select out of. Empathy also helps us see the spaces where, as humans, are far more alike than different.
Yet, I believe this issue of racial injustice is too important to wait for government, media or even our tried and tested institutions to lead. What begins to heal us is an empathic pursuit of justice, not just a legislative one. It is incumbent upon each one of us to listen, to learn and to discover how we can individually step into the issues that so often divide us, in particular the ones that regularly dismantle justice and promote conflict. As people of God and good will, it our job to bring reconciliation and healing in its place. We can each plant seeds that lead to a future worth having and the civil society our current age demands.
This moment is also an opportunity to begin new conversations in our families, in communities and across our nation. It is an opportunity to talk with one another in an effort to answer the hard, yet important questions of our time. We must learn to relate or dare I say, love one another across difference and find ways to bridge divides and create new language. In fact, we might just need to adopt a new meaning of community itself. Even more, we have an opportunity to learn to hold to our convictions AND have passionate disagreements and arise more committed to one another – regardless of race or creed – as a result.
So, should you find yourself ready to start the hard work of racial justice, or perhaps are ready to just “do more,” we offer our Just Dialogue Project. Through this program we are working to ensure that individuals, leaders and communities have the skills and tools to create spaces where people with different racial, religious, cultural and/or political backgrounds and perspectives can engage in constructive dialogue. Where common values, new narratives and actionable steps can be unearthed – together. And, importantly, where conversations and dialogue about systemic racism and racial injustice can begin. Unless we have a deep understanding of the differences, and different experiences, of the people we are called to be in community with, it is impossible to authentically move forward with action that leads to transformational change.
In this moment of great pain and great need, we are intentionally and confidently stepping into the work of racial injustice, and we are asking you to join us. With a recurring monthly gift of $25, $50 or $100 you can help us do our part to heal a broken and divided nation, to spark reconciliation in communities, and bring justice to those denied it, ensuring that the people of Christ entrusted with the mantle of justice lead the way.
As president of Ideos, I come to this moment with great optimism, recognizing that lasting change often rises from moments of crisis AND moments of great pain. As someone who wakes up each day with the role of finding solutions to the polarizing and conflict laden issues of our time, I have to.
But make no mistake, the roots of racial injustice are long and deep, and their unearthing will be a lifelong process. Yet, as Christians, the work to overcome injustice and division is embedded in our most sacred of tomes. Micah 6:8 proclaims that we are to “love mercy, do justice and walk humbly with our God.” Thousands of years ago, the people of Jesus were given these marching orders. They still call to us today. If you are not yet ready, then I commend to you the following poem: A Litany for Those not Ready for Healing. However, if like me you are tired of seeing injustice and hatred flourish, then rise. It is time to do the work.
A Litany for Those not Ready for Healing
Let us not rush to the language of healing, before understanding the fullness of the injury and the depth of the wound.
Let us not rush to offer a band-aid, when the gaping wound requires surgery and complete reconstruction.
Let us not offer false equivalencies, thereby diminishing the particular pain being felt in a particular circumstance in a particular historical moment.
Let us not speak of reconciliation without speaking of reparations and restoration, or how we can repair the breach and how we can restore the loss.
Let us not rush past the loss of this mother’s child, this father’s child…someone’s beloved son.
Let us not value property over people; let us not protect material objects while human lives hang in the balance.
Let us not value a false peace over a righteous justice.
Let us not be afraid to sit with the ugliness, the messiness, and the pain that is life
in community together.
Let us not offer clichés to the grieving, those whose hearts are being torn asunder.
Instead…
Let us mourn black and brown men and women, those killed extrajudicially every 28 hours.
Let us lament the loss of a teenager, dead at the hands of a police officer who described
him as a demon.
Let us weep at a criminal justice system, which is neither blind nor just.
Let us call for the mourning men and the wailing women, those willing to rend their garments of privilege and ease and sit in the ashes of this nation’s original sin.
Let us be silent when we don’t know what to say.
Let us be humble and listen to the pain, rage, and grief pouring from the lips of our neighbors and friends.
Let us decrease, so that our brothers and sisters who live on the underside of history may increase.
Let us pray with our eyes open and our feet firmly planted on the ground
Let us listen to the shattering glass and let us smell the purifying fires, for it is the language of the unheard.
God, in your mercy…
Show me my own complicity in injustice.
Convict me for my indifference.
Forgive me when I have remained silent.
Equip me with a zeal for righteousness.
Never let me grow accustomed or acclimated to unrighteousness.
- Dr Yolanda Pierce
