Multiculturalism: Are We There Yet?

(This is the draft of a piece that I was recently asked to write on multiculturalism for a publication with the General Commisssion on Religion and Race of the United Methodist Church)

By Rev. C. Anthony Hunt, Ph.D.

I am convinced that to speak of multiculturalism in the church today, we must take into account the ongoing complexities of race and race relations across our society. As I write this reflection, America finds itself in the midst of tremendous turmoil surrounding the case of the death of Trayvon Martin in Sanford, Florida on February 26, 2012. Trayvon’s killing, and the lack of an arrest in his case to-date, conjures painful memories for many of the murder of Emmett Till in Mississippi in 1955, and the 1992 race riots in Los Angeles at the acquittal of the police officers charged in the brutal beating of Rodney King. In the aftermath of the Los Angeles riots, Cornel West wrote the provocative book, "Race Matters," in which he appropriately argued at the time that race continued to matter in America. Twenty years later, it is my belief that race continues to matter in America in both the church and society.

We continue to grapple with what it means to interact across cultures, what type of discourse is appropriate in the areas of immigration reform, health-care reform, the ongoing expansion of the prison industrial complex (and disproportionate arrest and incarceration rates for young black and brown men), and ongoing economic distress that points to widening disparities between the richer and the poorer, serving to disproportionately affect African-Americans and Hispanics.

At the election of Barack Obama as the first non-white United States president in 2008, there seemed to be heightened hope that we were closer than ever at arriving at becoming a post-racial society. But as is seen with the rise of Tea Party politics, burgeoning right-wing extremism, and the loudening voices of those intent on “taking back their county,” we are no closer at arriving at post-racism, let alone post-racialism than we were before President Obama’s election.

As with society in general, I sense that these are times in which the church is called to serious introspection, interrogation, self-examination and soul-searching as it pertains to our theological prerogative in light of the claims that the gospel of Jesus Christ continues to make on us to first speak truth to power with clarion voice with regard to the wounds that racism continues to inflict on the church and society. This speaking of truth would lead us to prophetically declare - as did Jesus - that God is indeed concerned about the poor among us (Luke 4:18), and that God is for the dispossessed and the disinherited - the least and the left out. After loudly and clearly speaking this truth, the church must then re-double its commitment to act out and to boldly live what we say we believe. Here our actions must clearly align with our words - our works and our faith must be closely aligned.

What’s most interesting today is how silent many white Christians seem to be when a politician running for national office feels free to state that he is not concerned about the very poor, or when justice is at the least delayed (and at worse possibly denied) in the killing of an unarmed 17 year-old boy in Florida. These are indicators of the work that we who are the church must continue to do if we are to ever arrive at a place of constructive, meaningful discourse as it pertains to multiculturalism, color-blindness and real inclusiveness.

AN IRISH BLESSING

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind always be at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
and rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.
Irish Blessing

BETTER TOGETHER

(This is an abridged version of the sermon preached at Epworth Chapel, Baltimore on 3/11/12.)



How very good and pleasant it is when kindred live together in unity! (Psalm 133:1)

A careful reading of Scripture points with clarity to God’s divine design for all of humanity. The assertion that God has created all of humanity in God’s image was first recorded in the Book of Genesis and reminds us that God’s purpose for us is rooted in our God-likeness. And it is in our God-likeness that we find our commonality in Christ.

Because of our God-likeness, the fact of the matter is we are more alike than we are different. In-fact, scientific researchers have discovered that the DNA make-up of humans makes us more than 99% similar to all other human beings. There is very little that is really different about us. We are far more similar than we are different.

The challenge for us in the present age is that we tend to focus more on the things that are different among us, than on our similarities. This challenge is exacerbated by that fact that the focus and fixation on our differences tends to lead to divisions within the human family.

As we look around, it is easy to see that we are separated in many ways. Segregation, discrimination and disintegration continue to be pervasive among us.

Indeed our churches and our society in general continue to deal with the problems of racism, sexism, and elitism. We see separation in the forms of denominationalism and traditionalism in many churches. We see it in ongoing political division and social alienation.

It is my belief that such separation leads to a form human isolation that places too many of us outside the divine order and intent of God. Such separation forces us in one of two directions. First, many of us find ourselves wanting to go it alone, and living life outside of community altogether. This is what might be called the “me-my-and- I syndrome,” where we turn inward and focus mainly, if not exclusively, on ourselves and how we will succeed. Here, we privatize our lives in ways that stunt our growth as social beings, and turn more and more inward for meaning in life, and seek less and less to share life with our sisters and brothers as a way of growing our lives and those of others.

Or we go down the road of simply seeking to share in community only with persons who are the most like us. This is the “birds of a feather” syndrome, where we find ourselves flocking together with persons who look like us, talk like us, think like us, believe like us, sing like us, pray like us, go to the places that we go, and do the same things that we do.

In either case, we are like caterpillars that never leave the cocoon - stuck inside our own self – trapped within our own possibilities, lost in the midst of life itself, never able to fully realize what and who we are to become.

How might we overcome these tendencies toward segregation and isolation? The psalmist in Psalm 133 who gives hope and encouragement as to how we might better live our lives together. The psalmist declares in the opening words here, “How very good and how pleasant it is for sisters and brothers to dwell together in unity.”

The main theme of the psalm is the reunification of the northern and southern kingdoms of Israel. The psalmist here uses family imagery to evoke the joy of living together in unity. It speaks to the church and the whole family of God and reminds us of God’s ideal that we break down barriers and join with those who have been estranged from fellowship with God and God’s church.

These are words of faith and life for those seeking true community. The psalmist points to the blessing that is found in those of us who are a part of the family of God being able to dwell together in unity.

The thing that is important to first notice is that psalmist points to the blessing of not simply dwelling together, but dwelling together in unity. Certainly the psalmist might have stopped by saying that it is blessed that we dwell together, but he shared that it’s good and pleasant when we dwell together in unity.

In community, we seek to arrive at a relationship with others, where we are not necessarily one, but where we dwell together in unity (Psalm 133:1), cognizant always of the realistic balance between being self-concerned and other-concerned.

The psalmist here points to unity as a goal that we must achieve if we are to be whole. It is a vision that we must live.

My grandmother made vegetable soup the way I think the Holy Spirit brings about unity among us. She would imagine what needed to go in the pot to make the soup taste just right. She would add the right vegetables to the pot, in the right order, at just the right time, so that when it was done, the soup was mixed to near perfection.

In a similar way, God takes who we are – as different as we all are from each other – and enables us not to just live together but to blend together in a way that makes our witness nourishment for the world. God’s power in the world rests in large part in our unity. We’re better together.

In ancient Greek literature there is a story that shows the power of working together, or synergism.

“An aged, dying father called his seven sons around him. He gave each one a stick and told them to break it. Each son easily broke his separate stick. The old father then bound seven sticks together, and gave the bundle to his eldest son and told him to break the bundle. The eldest son could not break it. Then the second son was commanded to try. He could not break it. Nor could any of the rest.

“So is it to be of you,” said the father. Alone you are weak, but together you are strong.”

Synergism is derived from the Greek word “synergos” meaning “working together.” It means that by joining with others, common objectives can be more easily and effectively accomplished. There is strength in numbers when we multiply our efforts through working with others.

We find strength in dwelling together in unity. God created us to be in community, and community makes us stronger. There’s an African proverb that says, “A finger can’t pick up a grain, it takes a whole hand.” The strength of our lives - the strength of the church and our community - depends not on a finger, but on the whole hand.

The apostle Paul used the image of the body to make this point. One body part is not sufficient for life. It takes all of the body parts working together to make the body work as it should.

So it is with the Body of Christ – the church. We’re better together. Maybe it was the case that the Israelites in the days when the psalmist penned this song were a lot like we are today. Maybe they needed to know, as we need to know today that we’re better together.

The popular song by Hezekiah Walker shares words that remind us of the very things that our lives depend on today:
I need you, you need me.
We’re all a part of God’s body.
Stand with me, agree with me.
We’re all a part of God’s body.
It is God’s will that every need be supplied.
You are important to me, I need you to survive.

I pray for you, you pray for me, I’ll pray for you.
We’re all a part of God’s body.
I won’t harm you with words from my mouth.
I love you. I need you to survive.

I simply came to remind us that we’re better together.

THROUGH...

(This is an abridged version of the sermon preached at Epworth Chapel, Baltimore on 3/4/12)

"Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for thou art with me." (Psalm 23:4)


Like many of you, and many Christians around the world, I have found Psalm 23 to be a living Scripture. It is not unusual for Christians to be able to recite this particular text. In many ways, I would suggest that Psalm 23 has become the primary text for many of our lives – the theme song for many of us who live in the Judeo-Christian faith traditions.

David’s words, in many ways have become our words – words that speak to the depth and breadth of the human condition. For those who are lonely, these words serve as a comfort and companion. For the hurting, there’s healing. For those in despair, these are hopeful words.

These are life-giving words. And every time I read the 23rd Psalm or hear these words recited, something different seems to touch me. In reading through the text most recently, that which has come in and taken residence with me was the word “through.”

In the middle of this poetic text – this song of praise that David is singing here - he shares these memorable words:

“Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me."

If you know like I know, many of us have no problem relating to what David is saying here. What David is speaking of when he says, “Yea though I walk through…” is what Princeton philosopher Cornel West speaks of in terms of a certain nihilism that has taken residence in much of our life today. Indeed, as West suggests, a certain nihilism - a lovelessness, meaninglessness, and emptiness - even nothingness - seems to have pervaded our culture and permeated much our reality.

This nihilism is clearly evident in the fact that we have more African-American males in prison than in college today. Black and brown males are imprisoned at over 6times the rate of others in our country. This is what Dr. Michelle Alexander, in her book, calls the “New Jim Crow.”

This nihilism is also seen in the fact that unemployment and underemployment is rampant… it is witnessed in the fact that addiction and death ravages our city streets (in Baltimore there were nearly 200 murders in 2011, and the majority of these were of young African-American men under the age of thirty). The tragedy of this nihilism is that too much of our reality - in too many of our communities - is perpetually mired in depression and in despair.

And here in the 23rd Psalm, this nihilism – the very real ways that we are going through - is what David is trying to help us come to grips with. David described his own going through as a valley experience. In fact it was not just any valley - David called it the "valley of the shadow of death."

Eugene Peters in The Message translation of the text called this valley that David spoke of here as “Death Valley.” It was a valley filled with death and despair - no hope and no joy.

We don’t know exactly what the valley was that David was referring to here, but we do know he was talking about having gone through something:
• Maybe the valley that David is talking about was the attempts that King Saul had made on his David’s life.
• Maybe is it was his adulterous affair with Bathsheba.
• Maybe it was his murder of Bathsheba’s husband Uriah.

We don’t know exactly what it was, but David was talking about having gone through a very real valley experience in his life.

Many of us can relate on a personal level to what David was going through:
• Going through what Job declared as “days filled with trouble.”
• Going through what John of the Cross called "the dark night of the soul.”
• Going through what black sharecropper and political activist Fannie Lou Hamer described as being “sick and tired of being sick and tired.”
• Going through what the singer of the hymn said was “sometimes feeling like a motherless child – a long way from home.”
• Going through sleepless nights and darkened days.

Indeed we can relate to going through. And if you can’t relate, just live a little and you will:
• Sickness in your family
• Death at your doorstep
• Pink slip on your desk
• Can’t make it from paycheck to paycheck (more month than money)
• Marital problems
• Problems with children
• Children and women going through abuse and neglect
• This week, we pray for those going through natural disaster in the Midwest – where tornadoes have wreaked havoc and devastation.

Everybody will go through something at some point. David was talking about the very real predicament of going through. And if you know like I know, when you are going through, it can become easy to feel that you are “too through,” and want to give up and throw in the towel.

But lest we get stuck on David’s predicament of going through, let me remind us that it’s good that David did not stop with the fact that he had gone through or was going through something. In the midst of his going through, he didn’t stop his song there - he kept singing.

“...I will fear no evil. For (Lord) you are with me. Your rod and staff comfort me.”

David kept singing, because he knew that God would not bring him to anything that God would not take him through. This ought to be good news to somebody who has come to a crossroads in your life. If you are a person of faith, you can keep singing because you know that whatever God has brought you to, God will take you through.

And it’s even more good news to know that if you are going through, it means that you are not stuck.

And you can rejoice in knowing that your going through – your test - is really a precursor to your testimony. And that at the end of our coming to the difficult situations of life, and our going through these situations, God is really preparing our lives for a breakthrough.

The Apostle Paul talked about going through in this way in Romans 8 when he declared that “the suffering of this present day is not worthy to be compared to the glory that shall be revealed in us.” (v.18) And later in that chapter, Paul said that “all things work together for the good of those who love the Lord and are called according to his purpose.” (v.28) Paul, like David, wanted to remind us that God wants to get some glory out of our going through.

And finally we see in Psalm 23 that when God brings us through, we ought to keep singing. David continued his song not by talking about going through, but by talking about the presence and provision of the Lord.

He said, “Thou prepareth a table for me in the presence of my enemies. My cup runs over.”

It’s good to know that God will provide all that we need, when we need it. And therefore David could end with a praise offering to God. He ended with a doxology - an act of praise to his God.

“Surely, goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

We may be going through, but thank God, we’re not going through alone. We may be going through, but it’s good to know that we have God’s grace and mercy to bring us through. We may be going through, but we know that with God, we’re coming out.