Ecclesial Justice: The Problem of Sunday Morning and the
Movement towards Beloved Community
Rev. C. Anthony Hunt, D.Min., Ph.D.
United Theological Seminary, Dayton, Ohio
August 23, 2018
The
world today is wrought with social, economic, political and religious
upheaval. Over the past several years,
in the United States and across the globe, we have become more divided along
various lines. In the U.S., the social
and political division that we now experience is not really new, but it
challenges our sense of normalcy in ways that perhaps we have not been
challenged in the past.
About seven years ago, I was asked, in another academic
setting, to address the matter of “Sunday Morning”, and answer the question,
“Is it the Most Segregated the Hour of the Week? This is the “Problem of Sunday Morning”. I believe that this is a matter that
continues to weigh on the churches in many respects today. And so the questions today are, (1) what does
ecclesial justice look like in the 21st century, (2) how might we go
about addressing “the problem of Sunday Morning”, and (3) what would it look
like for the churches, as the Body of Christ (he embodiment of Christ), to move
towards becoming Beloved Community?
I propose that a great deal of the problem of Sunday
Morning, and division in and among churches today, is rooted in the persistent
problem of race and racism in America.
It is thus, important that division in the churches, and particularly
race division, be viewed against the historical backdrop of the racism in American
society, in general. In 1903,
African-American sociologist W. E. B. DuBois pronounced that “the problem of
the 20th century is the problem of the color-line (The Souls of
Black Folk). And in 1944, Swedish
sociologist Gunnar Myrdal discussed the plight of African Americans (the Negro
Problem) within the context of what he referred to as the "American
dilemma" (An American Dilemma: The Negro Problem and Modern Democracy). This
dilemma continues to exist some 74 years later.
During a recent visit to the Southern Poverty Law Center
in Montgomery, AL, I and others who were a part of the visit were informed that
there are over 954 hate-related groups currently identified in the U.S., up
from about 800 in 2008, and that this number has continued to rise since the
2016 presidential election. This rise in
hate-related groups in America (and the incumbent violence) is viewed against
the historic backdrop of over 4000 lynchings of Black Americans in 10 Southern
states from 1870-1950, as chronicled by the Equal Justice Initiative, also in
Montgomery, Alabama. According to the
Southern Poverty Law Center, the number of neo-Nazi groups in the U.S. has
increased by 22 percent since the 2017 U.S. presidential inauguration.
Today, race continues to matter in America, and indeed we
are not yet at the place of being either post-racial or post-racist. This is
the matter that Michael Eric Dyson addresses in his book, Can You Hear Me
Now? Dyson insists that the critical
question that is before society today is not if we are yet a post-racial society,
and the question is not even if we should strive to become post-racial, but the
question is how might we move closer to becoming a post-racist society?
A part of this nation’s sense of who it says it is etched
in one of our national credos – the Latin phrase e-pluribus unum – “Out of Many
One.” The implication here is that in
the U.S, we have been, and continue to be, many. We are many cultures and ethnicities (we are
a nations largely of immigrants and refugees), many classes and social
locations, many religions, many geographies, female and male, with many
persuasions and ways of identifying what it means to be human. And yet, the vision that we say we share
within the context of this “many” is a vision of somehow also becoming
“one”.
In any event, today we experience the challenge of living
into this grand vision of what it means to become e pluribus unum. And so, perhaps it is “divides” in the
churches and society which most clearly characterize us today. These “divides” are seen in that we are Indiginous,
Hispanic, Asian, White and Black, LGBTQI+ and ‘straight”, poor, working class,
middle class and wealthy, Republican, Democratic and Independent, southern and
northern, western and eastern, midwestern and southwestern, rural, suburban and
urban, conservative, moderate and liberal, evangelical and progressive,
non-denominational and mainline. These “divides”
are seen in that – politically and religiously - we are red, blue and indeed
purple (yes purple).
In light of an image and ideal of social embodiment and
social justice, and in light of the church’s image of it being the body of
Christ (the embodiment of Christ), the question then becomes how do these
various forms of difference, division, disintegration and disengagement
effectively serve to create social and spiritual disembodiment for us in the
churches and society? In her book, Stand
Your Ground: Black Bodies and the Justice of God, Kelly Brown Douglas posits
that such disembodiment can be seen through the crucifixion of Jesus on the
Cross, and the death of Trayvon Martin in Florida in 2012. “Both Jesus and Trayvon were members of
despised minorities. Both were feared
because of who they were… Both were accused of sedition. Both were killed by the “rule of law”
(Douglas, 170).
This matter of disembodiment is seen in even more
pronounced ways in the rhetorical and existential attacks on women’s bodies in some
of the highest places of our society today – in politics, entertainment, sports
and even the church. As Cheryl Townsend
Gilkes intimates in her essay, “The Loves and Troubles of African American
Women’s Bodies” - “All human experience is embodied experience and the
consequences of cultural humiliation are most dramatically shown with reference
to the body. Not only is experience
embodied, but stereotypes, pernicious cultural representations of people, are
also embodied images” (“The Loves and Troubles of African American Women’s
Bodies”).
Why is this important in the light of the practice of theology
and ministry in the West today?
Steven Vertovec, in his essay, “Super-diversity and its
implications”, places the phenomenon of social change in the context of what he
terms “Super-diversity”. Although Vertovec
focuses primarily on the changing dynamics of diversity in Britain, these
changes, in many respects, mirror the changes occurring in the United
States.
Vertovec argues that today, “Britain can now be
characterized by ‘super-diversity,’ a notion intended to underline a level and
kind of complexity surpassing anything the country has previously experienced…”
“… where in the past Britain’s immigrant and ethnic
minority population has conventionally been characterized by large,
well-organized African-Caribbean and South Asian communities of citizens
originally from Commonwealth countries or formerly colonial territories.”
Vertovec’s thesis of “super-diversity” holds with what
has occurred in the United States over the past several decades. Research data shows that the United States
continues to become more diverse and “different”. Our difference in the U.S. is seen in that –
1. The non-Hispanic white population in the U.S. is expected
to fall below 50% by 2042, but non-Hispanic Whites will remain the largest
single ethnic group (U.S. Census Bureau).
Non-Hispanic Whites are the slowest growing segment of
the U.S. population at .5% (U.S. Census Bureau).
2. There are at least 56 million Hispanics in the U.S. (16%
of the population). Hispanic and Latino
populations are projected to make up 30% of the U.S. population by 2050 (U.S.
Census Bureau).
3. Asians make up 5.8% of the U.S. population, and this
percentage is projected to rise to at least 7.8% by 2050. Asians make up 36% of immigrants, exceeding
the percentage of Hispanics and Latinos.
China is the fastest growing immigrant group in the U.S., passing Mexico
(U.S. Census Bureau).
4. The percentage of Blacks is projected to remain steady at
13% through 2050.
5. By 2040, Islam will surpass Judaism to become the second
largest religion in the U.S. due to higher immigration and birth rates (Pew
Research Center).
6. There are at least 3.3 million Muslims in the U.S., and
that number is likely to double by 2050 (Pew Research Center).
(Sources: U.S. Census Bureau and Pew Research Center)
This is what super-diversity in the U.S. will continue to
look like.
Biblical and Theological Reflections
How might our biblical and theological and biblical
analysis speak to these realities? 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 scripture
in the Book of Genesis, and reminds us that God’s purpose for us is rooted in
our God-likeness, and the notion that we as humans are created imago dei, in
God’s image. And it is in our
God-likeness that we find our commonality in Christ.
Instances of the yearning towards ecclesial justice –
communal justice - can be found throughout Scripture. We find it in the Prophet Isaiah’s vision of
the peaceable realm, where wolves and lambs would lie down together (Isa. 11:6).
We see this yearning for ecclesial and
communal justice in the Prophet Micah’s explication of what has come to be
known as the Great Requirement, that we are to “love kindness, do justice and
walk humbly with God” (Micah 6:8).
God’s will and desire for ecclesial – communal justice –
for the church and the world is further evidenced in the words of the Psalmist
as found in Psalm 133. "How very good and pleasant it is when kindred live
together in unity! It is like the
precious oil on the head, running down upon the beard, on the beard of Aaron,
running down over the collar of his robes.
It is like the dew of Hermon, which fall on the mountains of Zion. For there the Lord ordained God’s blessing,
life forevermore" (Psalm 133:1-3).
The psalm speaks to the whole family of God, and reminds
us of God’s ideal that we break down barriers and walls of division, and join
with those who have been estranged from fellowship with God and God’s people. The thing that is important to first notice
is that the psalmist points to the blessing of not simply dwelling together,
but dwelling together in unity.
Certainly, the psalmist could have stopped by saying that it is blessed
that we dwell together, but he went on to share that it’s very good and
pleasant in God’s sight when we dwell together in unity. “For there the Lord ordained God’s blessing,
life forevermore” (Ps. 133:3).
In The Search for Common Ground, Howard Thurman argued
that the search for common ground is a universal search among all of
humanity. He stated that “A person is
always threatened in one’s very ground by a sense of isolation, by feeling
oneself cut off from one’s fellows. Yet,
the person can never separate oneself from one’s fellows, for mutual
interdependence is characteristic of all life” (Thurman 1971, Search, 2-3). Thus, for Thurman, this common, universal
quest and search for common ground has teleological implications, as it
essentially provides the framework for the meaning of life itself.
Desmond Tutu, in his nonviolent battle against apartheid
in South Africa, rallied around the concept of Ubuntu, “I am what I am because
of who we all are, and therefore, because of who we are, I am.” Ubuntu speaks to the very quality of being
human, affirms the fundamental humanness of us all, and asserts the support
that we must afford each other if we are to be all that God calls us to
be.
Ubuntu
speaks to the yearning toward community.
Community – common ground – by its very nature - is integrative; it
speaks to a “common unity” among us.
Forms of disintegration, disunity and disembodiment are, therefore, to
be understood as being antithetical to the common good, community and to the
will of God.
In her book Ferguson and Faith, Sparking Leadership and
Awakening Community, Leah Gunning Francis intimated that “The fight for
justice… is the fight to be seen and valued as human beings “just as you are”-
not in a prescribed way that renders you acceptable so long as you fit a
particular mold, but in an authentic way that makes room for each person to be
able to be fully him – or herself” (Francis, 109).
The Churches and the Problem of Sunday Morning
I
n 1954, in his book, The Creative Encounter, Howard
Thurman reflected on the state of the church in his day, and he stated, "It is in order now at last to
raise the question: Is the witness of the church in our society the unfolding
of such an idea as we see manifested in the religious experience and the life
of Jesus? Whatever may be the delimiting character of the historical
development of the church, the simple fact remains that at the present moment
in our society, as an institution, the church is divisive and discriminating,
even within its fellowship. It is divided into dozens of splinters. This would
indicate that it is essentially sectarian in character. As an institution there
is no such thing as the church" (Thurman, 1954).
As it regards Christianity and
the church of his day, Thurman had written five years earlier in his seminal
work Jesus and the Disinherited (1949) that: "To those who need profound
succor and strength to enable them to live in the present with dignity and
creativity, Christianity often has been sterile and of little avail. The
conventional Christian word is muffled, confused and vague. Too often the price
exacted by society for security and respectability is that the Christian
movement in its formal expression must be on the side of the strong against the
weak. This is a matter of tremendous significance, for it reveals to what
extent a religion that was born of people acquainted with persecution and
suffering has become the cornerstone of a civilization and of nations whose
very position in modern life has too often been secured by ruthless use of power
applied to weak and defenseless people" (Thurman, 1949).
Howard Thurman saw that the problem of an excluding
church is rooted in the fact that too many Christians have not clearly
understood or faithfully followed the central personality of the faith, Jesus
the Christ. Further Thurman insisted
that racism is one of the key factors in destroying community. For him, community is essential to life, and
it is this that moves and motivates Thurman.
It is out of this deep sense of burden and passion for community that
Thurman is able to see how detrimental and destructive racism and other forms
of social division are to community because they deny, denigrate and destroy
people based on external and surface qualities.
This is the essence of social and spiritual disembodiment.
As it regards the church and the problem of race and
other forms of social disembodiment in America today, in many ways, a pall then
remains over much – if not most - of the contemporary church and society. Racism itself continues to be the elephant in
America’s living room. In their book, Divided
by Faith: Evangelical Religion and the Problem of Race, Michael Emerson and
Christian Smith developed a theory to explain why churches are racially
exclusive enclaves despite Christianity’s ideals and espoused beliefs about
being inclusive: "Americans choose where and with whom to worship; race is
one of the most important grounds on which they choose; so the more choices
they have, the more their religious institutions will be segregated" (Emerson
and Smith 2000, 154f.).
Through sociological analysis, Emerson and Smith tested
that theory and found it to be valid.
Churches are more segregated than schools, workplaces or
neighborhoods. The least segregated
sector of American society is also the least governed by choice; it’s the
military. Because white Protestants are
the largest religious community in the U.S., they have the greatest choice as
to with whom to gather. The authors
point out that ninety-five percent of churches are effectively racially
segregated, with 80 percent or more of their members being of the same
race.
Thus, about 5 percent of religious congregations in the
U.S. can fairly be considered multicultural/multiracial, with the majority of
Christians engaging in what sociologists call homophily, or the desire to
congregate with “birds of the same feather,” with their congregations
reflecting ethnoracial particularism.
Lovett Weems from Wesley Theological Seminary points to the correlation
between church decline and the problems that churches face in addressing race
and class. “In the last two decades,
five mainline denominations had a net loss of over 5.2 million members, while
the population of the country rose by over 47 million. The figures are even
worse when one looks at people of color and people in poverty.” (Weems)
Towards Beloved Community
How might we go about moving towards Beloved
Community? It is important to note that
the singular theological and societal vision of Howard Thurman and Martin
Luther King, Jr. was for the realization of Beloved Community. For King, Beloved Community was rooted in the
biblical notion of Agape (God’s unconditional love), and was to be the ultimate
goal for society and the church.
Interestingly, in one of his chapters in On God’s Side,
Jim Wallis posits that “The Beloved Community Welcomes All Tribes.” Wallis
shares a quote from King that “our goal is to create a beloved community and
this will require a qualitative change in our souls as well as a quantitative
change in our lives” (Wallis, 109).
King asserted that “all life is interrelated.” One of his fundamental beliefs was in the
kinship of all persons. He believed that
all life is part of a single process; all living things are interrelated; and
all persons are sisters and brothers (Garth Baker-Fletcher, Somebodiness, 132).
All have a place in the Beloved Community.
Because all life is interrelated, one cannot harm another without
harming oneself.
King elaborated: "To the degree that I harm my brother, no matter what he
is doing to me, to that extent I am harming myself. For example, white men often refuse federal
aid to education in order to avoid giving the Negro his rights; but because all
men are brothers, they cannot deny Negro children without harming
themselves. Why is this? Because all men are brothers. If you harm me, you harm yourself. Love, agape, is the only cement that can hold
this broken community together. When I
am commanded to love, I am commanded to restore community, to resist injustice,
and to meet the needs of my brothers" (Baker-Fletcher).
Over the past 20 years, I have had the opportunity to
lead and teach seminary students from several theological institutions in the
study of the Civil Rights movement, nonviolence, community-building and Beloved
Community in Alabama and across other parts of the southern United States.
Our groups usually range from 15-30 students, and in
Alabama, we travel through Birmingham, Montgomery and Selma retracing the steps
of those who participated in the American Civil Rights movement in the 1950’s
and 60’s. Our groups are invariably very diverse. We are typically women and men; Whites,
Caribbeans, Native Americans, Hispanics, Asians and African Americans. We are typically from several different
Christian denominations: United Methodist, Baptist, African Methodist
Episcopal, African Methodist Episcopal Zion, Episcopalian, Lutheran and others.
We begin each day with singing,
praying and reading Scripture, as was the practice in the tradition of those
who participated in the Civil Rights movement.
John Lewis, now a U.S. Congressman from Georgia, and one who labored on
the front lines of the movement in the 1960’s, has intimated that “We never
went out without singing and praying.” So
before leaving each morning, those of us on these immersion trips pray, read
Scripture, and sing freedom songs like “Oh Freedom,” “We Shall Overcome,”
“There is a Balm” and “Ain’t Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me Around”.
As we travel - struggling through many of the difficult
paths and realities of those who lived the Civil Rights movement - we invariably
sense among ourselves the real possibility that culturally inclusive community
- Beloved Community – can indeed be realized in our lifetime.
We visit and study at numerous sites that were
significant to the Civil Rights movement.
In Montgomery, we visit Dexter Avenue King Memorial Baptist Church,
where Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. served as pastor from 1954-1960 at the
height of the Montgomery Bus Boycott and other significant Civil Rights
events. Just two blocks from Dexter
Avenue Church, we visit the First Confederate White House - the home of
Jefferson Davis, the president of the Confederacy. Sitting between Dexter Avenue Church and the
first Confederate White House is the Alabama State Capitol – the place where
Governor George Wallace and other state officials stood in defiance of any
efforts towards integration and equal rights among the races, and where Wallace
notoriously exclaimed, “Segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation
forever.”
In Birmingham, one of the places we visit is the
Sixteenth Street Baptist Church, which on September 15, 1963 was bombed by
segregationists, and where four black girls (age 11-14) were killed in the
church basement while preparing for their Children’s Day worship
celebration. Across the street from the
Sixteenth Street Baptist Church is Kelly Ingram Park, where many of the protest
marches in the city of Birmingham began, and which became notorious for the
atrocious and brutal acts of Police Commissioner Eugene “Bull” Connor and the
Birmingham police as they turned dogs and fire hoses on black children of
Birmingham.
In Selma, we walk across the Edmund Pettus Bridge, which
was the site of “Bloody Sunday” on March 7, 1965 - when hundreds of blacks and
some whites gathered in an effort to march across the bridge towards Montgomery
to demand voting rights, only to be violently tear-gassed, cattle-prodded,
bloodily beaten and turned back by state and local authorities. In Selma, we also visit Brown Chapel African
Methodist Episcopal Church, the place where over 600 persons gathered to sing,
pray, strategize and receive marching orders in their ongoing efforts to take
the 54 mile journey from Selma to Montgomery.
At the conclusion of these immersion experiences in
Alabama – what I deem to be pilgrimages – we are invariably struck by how far
we as a society have come, and yet how far we have to go. We realize that it would not have been
possible 40 years prior for 15-30 ministers from diverse backgrounds to travel
in relative peace and safety throughout Alabama. Furthermore, we realize that all of us –
women, men, black, white, Asian, Native American and Latino/a - either had, or
were likely to attain doctoral and master’s degrees from major theological
schools, and that this would not have been a realistic prospect 40 years
ago.
Each time we journey, my memory harkens back to one of
our trips several years ago, where Dr. Eileen Guenther, a professor at Wesley
Theological Seminary, who was a part of that study group, offered that it was a
spiritual sung by many choirs, “I’m Gonna Sit at the Welcome Table,” that
played in her head throughout our experience (see The American Organist,
November 2008). These tables are –
- Lunch counters of restaurants where all had not been welcome (in the
past);
- The dining room table in the parsonage of Dexter Avenue Baptist Church,
in Montgomery, where we were told, the Southern Christian Leadership Conference
was formed;
- The kitchen table of the same parsonage where Dr. King searched his
soul and felt God telling him to press on with his work (see King’s sermon, “A
Knock at Midnight”);
- The tables at which the people at 16th Street Baptist Church
served us lunch, tables placed adjacent to the site of the tragic bombing in
September 1963 that killed four young girls;
- The tables around which members of our group gathered to share stories
as victims of discrimination, of their courageous work in the Civil Rights
movement (and other freedom and human rights movements), and their lament over
a lack of awareness of what was going on at that time in America’s
history.
- Tables around which we laughed and cried together – celebrating how far
we’ve come, yet realizing the pain inflicted upon those who made it possible
for us to be able to sit at table together in light of those things that could
yet still be in place to divide us (Eileen Guenther).
We also recognize that there is hope for the church and
society in the fact that largely because of the heroic efforts of persons in
places like Montgomery, Birmingham and Selma, Alabama, Jackson, Mississippi and
Memphis, Tennessee - the Civil Rights Act was passed by Congress in 1964, and
the Voting Rights Act was enacted in 1965, signed into law by a U.S. president
who was a son of the American South, Lyndon B. Johnson.
I recently attended a panel conversation of seminary
students. This experience sheds light
on matters that might be given attention in thinking on the future of the
churches, especially in the United States.
The first observation about this seminary panel was the
diversity of the group. Five of the six
panelists were in their 20’s or early 30’s.
They had arrived at seminary from six different places – Chicago, New
York City, the Dominican Republic, Zimbabwe, Mississippi and Virginia – none
had come from the city where they were now attending seminary. They were United Methodist (4), AME (1),
and Baptist (1). They were Korean, Latino,
African, White and African-American.
Four were women.
This diversity reflects that of this particular seminary
at-large, and points to the fact that the church and society today looks quite
different than it did forty years ago, and that perhaps this type of broadening
diversity is reflective of where the church of today may be moving, and what
will be required of its future leaders.
As these six students reflected on their seminary
experiences and how they thought their theological education would impact their
future role as religious leaders, it was clear that each of them articulated a
vision of the church and their role as a religious leader that would move the
church beyond traditional notions of what the church has been, and is to be,
institutionally. And thus theirs were
visions that shifted conceptions of Christian ministry, and the ways in which
church leadership might be practiced in the future.
The collective insights/observations of these seminarians
pointed to prospects of the 21st century church living into new and
exciting forms of diversity, and prospects of churches of the future being
shaped in ways that give impetus to several foundational concerns. Succinctly stated, these concerns are that:
1. The church must be led towards deeper, more intentional
exploration and growth in the practice of spiritual disciplines as means
towards deepening faith and creating community.
2. The church must engage in processes that encourage the
ongoing development of competencies in the art of leadership that are sensitive
to cultural inclusion and the changes that are incumbent in new millennial
reality.
3. The church must facilitate reflection/action relative to
the burgeoning globality in our midst.
4. The church must facilitate an ongoing understanding and
deeper engagement with youth and young adult cultures (Millennials), which
typically understand and appropriate the merging of cultures on levels that are
more profound and pronounced than previous generations.
5. The church must facilitate constructive engagement and
theological discourse across cultures and theological/faith perspectives.
6. The church must have the capacity to continue in
organizing, developing and cultivating strong partnerships and collaborations
(with students, local churches, judicatories, interfaith and non-religious
entities).
7. The church must see technology as a gift of discipleship
and evangelism to be faithfully and effectively used to reach people for the
sake of the Gospel.
Conclusion
There’s hope. As a
society, we have made some progress in that we don’t hear or read of as many
overt and violent acts of racism as we did in the 1950s and 60s. The rights of
African Americans, Asians, Hispanics, Native Americans, and other ethnic
minorities, along with the rights of women and other historically marginalized
persons have been enhanced in many ways, yet today, we know that there are
miles that we yet have to travel.
Although segregation indeed continues to abound in many
churches (as it does in many other sectors of society), I believe there is
hope. Charles Marsh wrote in The Beloved
Community: How Faith Shapes Social Justice, from the Civil Rights Movement to
Today, “Eleven o’clock Sunday may be the most segregated hour of the week as
far as any particular parish goes, but it is the most integrated hour of the
week as far as the kingdom goes.” (Marsh, 215)
Once again Marsh writes: "The hope that we must nurture is the hope that all will
be made whole in the history of redemption and that together we will join hands
and learn to live in the sobering light of God’s promise" (Marsh, 212).
Indeed, there’s hope.
St. Augustine of Hippo intimated that hope has two beautiful daughters. Their names are Anger
and Courage. Anger at the way things
are, and the courage to change some of them.
Martin Luther King, Jr. said that “hope is the refusal to give up
despite insurmountable odds."
Further,
King said that “hope (as a theological form) is animated by faith and love.
King also intimated that everybody can be great because
everybody can serve. Indeed has King and
others have shared, our service is the rent that we pay for the space that we
occupy on earth.
There’s hope because it’s God’s will that we be the Body
of Christ – the embodiment of the Resurrected One.
If I can help somebody, as I travel along.
If I can cheer somebody, with a word or a song.
If I can show somebody, that they’re travelling wrong.
Then my living shall not be in vain.
If I can do my duty as a Christian ought.
If I can bring back beauty, to a world up wrought.
I can spread love’s message, as the Savior taught.
Then my living shall not be in vain.
(“If I can Help Somebody”)
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