On Being Church in a Racist Society

     

When the COVID 19 epidemic became a pandemic and worship in church buildings was
suspended to keep the virus from spreading too quickly, a number of churches started asking people stuck at home to make butterflies, out of whatever material or media they had on hand. The butterflies would eventually be used to decorate our sanctuaries when we were able to worship in our buildings again.

Butterflies are a good image for what we are living with and through this year, because they start their lives crawling around on the ground, then they experience a kind of death, and then they emerge from something that looks lifeless to fly about in the sunlight. They give us an image of life continuing even through what looks like death, an image that brings both hope and joy.

Before May 24^th, we probably thought our biggest problem for this interesting year was going to be coping with COVID 19, the dangerous virus spreading through our communities. This was a problem that had become kind of familiar, and we were learning how to cope with it while planning on reopening our buildings, restarting in person ministries, and rebuilding financial resources.

But then on May 24^th another problem blew up, literally, in Minneapolis, a city not too far from where many of us in the NW Synod of Wisconsin live and work. A white police officer killed an unarmed black man. It was an act of violence by a white man with power against a black man with none.

When the police officer wasn’t arrested right away, the community erupted in protests that continued for several days, protests that were exploited by those who are only interested in destruction, leading to looting and burning businesses, or division, including the President of the United States. Using a church as a backdrop and a Bible as a weapon to be wielded against people he treats as his enemies, he created even more frustration and anger among the people of this country.

What is happening brought to mind the poem Harlem, written by Langston Hughes:

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up

like a raisin in the sun?

Or fester like a sore—

And then run?

Does it stink like rotten meat?

Or crust and sugar over—

like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags

like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

After May 24^th, the anger generated by dreams deferred and deferred again exploded in the Twin Cities and other communities. This anger is not a new thing. This anger is old because the grievance is old. Unlike COVID 19, the underlying cause, racism, has been built into American society since the beginning. Racism and racist policies have been imposed and maintained through institutional violence and has often led to violent reactions from those who suffer because of it.

It takes great strength of character to resist the urge to respond violently to the violence inflicted upon us. That Americans of color have relied mainly on non-violent resistance and responded with violence infrequently is a testament to their character, faith, and values. White Americans have rarely shown the same level of character, faith, and values in the racist acts and policies we have put in place in this country through the use of force and intimidation.

We, as the people of God, were already trying to manage being the church in our communities during a pandemic. And now violence arising out of the racism in our society has come to the surface, where we cannot ignore it or its causes. How are we called to be the church during this new crisis? Where is the hope? Where is the justice? Where are you, we cry out to God?

On Wednesday, June 10, the NW Synod hosted an opportunity to learn about racism and how the church can respond. The featured presenter was Judith Roberts, who shared her own feelings as a Lutheran who is not white, a Lutheran who has often felt like a second class citizen even in the church, the place that should be preaching and practicing unity and equality within the body of Christ. 

{To watch the full conversation with Judith Roberts click HERE; password: 1p&33N!#}

 We are the church. And we are strong. We have hands, hands that can make beautiful butterflies to decorate a sanctuary, hands that can put masks on, hands that can do God’s work in dismantling racism. We have an opportunity right now to be part of the solution, part of the healing, part of the change in our hearts and minds required in the fight against racism. God calls us to serve our neighbors when they are in need. There are many neighbors right now who need our prayers, but more than that, they also need our hands.

~ Deacon David Behling

Hunger and Justice Advocate, Northwest Synod of Wisconsin