SETTING THE WHITE MAN FREE: THOUGHTS ON A LIFETIME OF LIBERATION WORK"

“SETTING THE WHITE MAN FREE: THOUGHTS ON A LIFETIME OF LIBERATION WORK”

Caroline and I have been up in Cloudland Canyon this weekend doing a wedding there, and my long-time friend David Billings kindly consented to write this week’s blog.   If you have not yet read his 2016 book “Deep Denial,” please get it somewhere and read it – it is one of the best books on the continuing power of racism and the white denial of it.  His blog is below.

Title: Setting The White Man Free: Thoughts on a Lifetime of Liberation Work by David Billings,  Author of Deep Denial: The Persistence of White Supremacy in United States History and Life (2016)

When Nibs asked me to write something for his blog, my first thought was "Do I write something from our shared childhood or something about the current state

of things in our nation?"  "How about both?"

Nibs is undoubtedly, in my mind, one of the great theologians of our day or any day for that matter. This is in spite of his not being as well-known as he should be and amid the rapid secularization in the society. At least among predominantly well-educated, middle class white and black people, Oakhurst is now an oasis for persons across the many national divides, not all of whom are Christians.

Nibs Stroupe has been an outstanding pastor along with his co-pastor, the Rev. Caroline Leach for close to 40 years, until they retired -- three years ago for Caroline and last year for Nibs. They led Oakhurst Presbyterian Church in Decatur, Ga. for nearly four decades and modeled for the 21st century what a church committed to tearing down the walls of white supremacy and white male dominance looks like.  Oakhurst was slated for extinction when they arrived in 1983; they bequeathed to the community new leadership a healthy and vibrant congregation.

Why do I say Stroupe is one of the great theologians of our day? Because in our race-constructed nation where everything is about race and everything is impacted by race, Stroupe always brings it up. He doesn't just speak about race and racism when that is his subject, but he speaks to race because in our nation nothing is race-neutral. There are racial dynamics in every happenstance of life, public and personal. His ability to see and name how racism pervades our everyday events, activities, and thoughts is rare. There are a growing number of white people who are striving to understand white supremacy, but few of us name racism if it is not our subject or focus. But Stroupe does and that makes him unique, certainly among white Christian pastors.

Nibs is also relentless in calling out sexism and misogyny. Heavily influenced and tutored by Caroline Leach in this, he is again intent on bringing it up even when society is loathe to do so.

It is this twin approach to liberation ministry that recently led the two to be recognized by the Presbyterian Church, USA with their Human Rights Award for their Lifetime service to the church.

What their ministry teaches us is when we emulate people like Nibs and Caroline, and when we identify the everyday racism and misogyny all around us, we will be ready to transform ourselves, our churches and the other institutions to which we give our allegiance. 

But, I mentioned in my opening paragraph that Nibs and I grew up together.  We lived in the heart of the Mississippi Delta, in Helena, Arkansas. We both pursued a ministry that focused on a Christ-centered, anti-racist theology and methodology. Both of us preached liberation, understanding the complicity of the church in others' oppression and our role in it. Nibs and I -- full of hubris, but also passion -- sought redemption through scripture.  That led us to action that was about breaking the taboos of race and gender we were brought up with and nurtured by. We didn't always succeed in this, but we persevered nonetheless.

When we were entering our teens, Nibs and I thought of ourselves as budding theologians. We went to our local pastors asking them to tell us when did Jesus first realized that he was destined to be the Messiah. (I mentioned hubris, didn't I?). They suggested we should pursue more normal teenage interests such as baseball or comic books. Instead, we rowed out onto Moon Lake (between Helena and the Mississippi River) to continue our quest on determining the “Messianic Consciousness of Jesus.”  I don’t think that we ever answered that one!

A short time later, Nibs introduced me to the concept of "house church" and invited me to join him at a meeting of laity (Episcopalian in this instance) who were discussing The Late Liz, a book about the conversion of a former prostitute now turned Christian. In one of these share groups, I offered my definition of  "grace." The next week, I learned that when Nibs' mother, Mary Stroupe, heard someone quote my definition in her beauty salon, she burst out laughing.  Mrs. Stroupe did not suffer fools.  Her response provoked a mini-crisis of faith in both of us. I can still hear her laugh.

I could tell more. I like to think these adventures led Nibs to be the person he is today.  I also hope someone out there writes his story and gives him his due. Maybe a history that gives Caroline and Nibs their deserved place in our history.

"DAYS OF MY LIFE"

“THE DAYS OF MY LIFE”

            Last week I wrote brief synopses of what Caroline and Fahed Abu-Akel shared of their journeys at the Church Women United Luncheon where we all were honored with their Human Rights Award on September 8.  I noted that their perspective came from those who are oppressed – Caroline as a woman, Fahed as an Arab Christian.  Today I’ll share part of what I shared of my story at the CWU Luncheon.  I come from the perspective of the white male, of the oppressor.  While they had neighbors and interventionists help them recognize their captivity to internalized oppression, God sent similar folks to me to help me recognize my internalized superiority.  This is some of what I shared.

            I grew up in the white, segregated South – segregated schools, segregated churches, segregated everything.  I was taught the love and grace of God by wonderful white people, including my spectacular mom, who raised me as a single, working, poor mother.  All of these white people also taught me captivity to what the Bible calls “the Powers,” systemic things like racism and sexism and materialism and homophobia and militarism.  [At this point, I got many more “Amens” from the mostly black women CWU gathering than I wanted!!!}  I believed that white people were superior, that men should dominate women, that money brings life, that LGBTQ people were not human like me, and that redemptive violence brought peace.  They taught me well – it wasn’t that I believed in equality and was in rebellion – I believed that white supremacy was true, was God’s will.

            Fortunately for me, I was blessed to have God send people to be neighbors to me, to intervene in my life and to reveal my captivity to me, so that I could begin to see this whole new world that God is calling into being.  There are too many of those people to name, but some of them are in this room today, and I thank you!

            It reminds me of the passage in Matt 15:21-28, where Jesus encounters a Palestinian woman.  Now, I’m no Jesus, but I understand this story very well.  Jesus is tired, and he’s a Jewish man, and this Palestinian woman is not in his circle.  But she bugs him and begs him to heal her daughter.  But, Jesus ends up calling her a dog and telling her that she is not worthy of being with the Jews.  She then stuns Jesus by saying: “Yes, Lord, but even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from the Master’s table.”  She reminds Jesus that she’s in the house!  Though Jesus doesn’t think so, she BELONGS to the household of God.

            God sent this woman as neighbor to Jesus, to let him know that his mission was deeper and wider than even He thought it was – AND, it worked!  By the end of Matthew’s Gospel, when the Resurrected Jesus sends out his disciples before he leaves, he doesn’t tell them to go only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. Rather, he tells them to go to everybody, to go to the entire world to proclaim this widening, inclusive, justice-seeking, love-bearing Beloved Community of God.

            And that’s how it works – we’re asked to be neighbors and interventionists with one another.  AND to listen when God sends neighbors to intervene in our lives.  To speak up and act up for justice, to seek equity and equality, and to remain humble in our approach, because we all have captivity to the powers in us – there are no exceptions.  We need people to intervene in our lives.

            I thank Church Women United for being some of those neighbors, some of those interventionists, for your continuing witness over these years.  I thank all of the neighbors God has sent to intervene in my life and who God will continue to send.  We are called to share with one another, bear with one another, love one another, challenge one another, support one another – that’s who we are, and that’s what brings us together today.  Thank you!

            So, let us reflect on this need for neighbors and interventionists in our lives.  Let us give thanks for our journeys and for those who have nurtured in us the idea that we are children of God, rather than children of the Powers of the world.  And let us resolve to be witnesses to one another in that way.  Speaking of that kind of witness, here’s a reminder of how the Powers work when we are not able to do what we need to do as neighbors and interventionists.  This past Saturday, September 15, was the 55^th anniversary of Birmingham Sunday, when white men planted dynamite in Sixteenth Street Baptist Church, and when it exploded, 4 little girls going to Sunday school were killed.  Rhiannon Giddens has a great cover of the song that Richard Farina wrote about that killing, and here’s the link to it:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4_T5KlTpvoM&feature=youtu.be

"THE DAYS OF OUR LIVES"

“THE DAYS OF OUR LIVES”

            Caroline and I were blessed to join former PCUSA Moderator, the Reverend Fahed Abu-Akel,  as recipients of the Atlanta Church Women United’s Human Rights Award for 2018.  The luncheon was Saturday, and we were graced to see old friends and witnesses, especially a great turnout from Oakhurst Presbyterian Church.  We were asked to reflect on our life’s journey and on the people who had brought us to this place – all in 5 minutes!  An impossible task, obviously, but it was a time to think about all of those people who had brought us to where we are today.  For that opportunity, we were all grateful.

            We three came at the task from different perspectives.  Fahed and Caroline came from the perspective of those who experienced oppression and injustice in many forms.  Their reflections named those people who had helped them move away from the definitions of internalized oppression and towards the definition that they were children of God.  My reflections came from the perspective of the oppressor, the white male, and my stories named people who had intervened in my life, who had helped me by being neighbors to me, who had challenged me and deepened me.  These neighbors helped me to hear that my internalized oppression of superiority was harmful to me and to others.  I’ll share more of my journey on that in the next blog.  Today, I want to share Fahed’s and Caroline’s perspectives and encourage us all to think about our own journeys and about the witnesses in our lives.

            Both of their stories are always powerful.  Fahed was a young boy, living in his Palestinian, Christian home in 1948 when the “Nakba” struck, when Israel, backed by Western allies, forced over 700,000 Palestinians to abandon their homes and their lands so that Israel could establish itself as a nation after the Holocaust of World War II.  The 70^th anniversary of al-Nakba, the Arab word for “catastrophe,” was May 15 of this year.  Fahed and his family were among those forced to leave and  to live a marginalized existence in a mountain refugee camp, with no compensation for their home or their land.  Eventually he made it to the USA as a young adult, and through the generosity of many people, he went to college and then to Columbia Seminary.  All through that time, he astonished people when they discovered that he was Christian, not Muslim.  He was elected as the first Arab-American Moderator of the Presbyterian Church in the United States in 2002.  He recalled being part of the program for the annual Martin Luther King, Jr., Celebration in the next year, and he was introduced as a Muslim minister.  With his Arabic name, no one could believe that he was Christian.  He reminded us all of the powerful witnesses in his life, including his mother, who helped him to hear that while the West told him that he was a Muslim terrorist, his definition was much deeper and broader – he is a child of God.  He continues to speak out against the injustice of Israel and the West toward his Palestinian people.

            Caroline was the 21^st woman ordained to the pastoral ministry in the former southern Presbyterian church.  She shared her journey of the obstacles that she had faced and of those who helped her to hear that her primary definition was not property of men but rather daughter of God.  She grew up in Central Presbyterian Church in Chattanooga, where her mother had grown up.  She and her family were faithful and loyal members, and Caroline did so many duties in the church.  When she decided to go to seminary and went to the church board (known as The Session in the Presbyterian Church) to receive their blessing as a seminary student, they turned her down because they did not believe that women should be ministers.   She joined another “Central” Church, this one in Atlanta under the leadership of Randy Taylor, and they welcomed her as a candidate for the ministry with open arms.  When she arrived at Columbia Seminary as one of five women students, many male students met her and read passages from the Bible, telling her that she could not become a pastor.  When she graduated from seminary, no churches would consider calling her as a pastor, but she gave thanks that Woody McKay called her as associate campus minister at Georgia Tech.  So many obstacles, but so many women and men who helped her get over those obstacles!

            Our perspective obviously makes a difference –next week I’ll look a bit at mine as white male.  For now, be thinking about your journey, about whether you have internalized superiority or have internalized inferiority.  And, be remembering and giving thanks for all those who helped you (and continue to help you) find your true self.