Bethel’s Senior Pastor Rev. David Randall-Bodman shares this pastoral response:
I have given considerable thought and prayer to a pastoral response to the murder of George Floyd and the resulting expression of public protest. The situation we find ourselves in has a long history. The outrage being expressed across the country is a symptom of a very complex system of institutional racism that has plagued our country since 1619 when the first African Americans were brought to this country and forced to serve as slaves. Everything from economic disparity, home ownership, opportunity to vote, mass incarceration, and access to quality education and healthcare, and disproportionate representation in traditional positions of power and authority have contributed to where we find ourselves today.
Here’s what I believe:
Racism is real.
Current and past claims of injustice are legitimate.
Injustice against African Americans and other people of color will stop when whites see it, own it and make “justice for all” a priority not just an empty phrase.
Baby steps toward stemming the tide of racial injustice demand spiritual and emotional strength:
To acknowledge our own (white) privilege;
To stop dismissing and taking offense when African Americans speak their truth;
To listen with open minds and hearts.
In his sermon “The Cross and the Lynching Tree: A Requiem for Ahmaud Arbery” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l6985UG0Z3k), The Rev. Dr. Otis Moss III observed that over the course of American history, every time black resistance to racial injustice has been expressed, it was met with white resentment laced with violence. (A visit to the Smithsonian Museum of African American History and Culture drove that point home to me last August.) He also made the brilliant connection: we are suffering from two viruses – COVID-19 and COVID-1619 (the virus of racism that has continued to morph over hundreds of years).
I want to share a personal example. When I attended Union Theological Seminary, I was deeply influenced by African American professors, Rev. Dr. James Cone and Rev. James Forbes. Even more so, I was shaped by the friendships I had with fellow African American students: Robina Winbush, Gary Simpson, Greg Groover, Mark Chapman, and Kelly Brown-Douglas (my Systematic theology tutor). I would never have begun the hard work of acknowledging my white privilege had I not been loved enough by my professors and colleagues to show me.
It is easy to dismiss racial injustice until you witness it. In seminary, I confessed to an African American friend that I just really didn’t get why black folk believed they had it so much harder than white folk. He suggested we go to a nearby grocery store to buy groceries.
As we approached the store, he told me that we’d go in together and then split up to do our own shopping. He suggested we meet in about 10 minutes toward the back of the store. When we found each other, he faced me and asked, “Is there a guy about 15 feet behind me?” “Yeah” I said. “Well he’s been following me around ever since I entered the store. Anyone following you?” “No”…it hadn’t even occurred to me that someone would be following me. My friend said, “He’s a plain clothed store security officer.” “Keep shopping,” my friend said, “let’s meet up at the cash registers in a few minutes.” We met at the check-out line. “You go ahead of me” my friend said. I unloaded my groceries and paid for them by personal check. “Thank you” the clerk smiled at me as she gave me my receipt. My friend then unloaded his groceries and prepared to pay by check (By the way – we both had checking accounts from the same bank). The clerk glared at him and said “I’ll need to see three forms of ID and two of them have to be photo ID’s.” He looked at me and said, “Are you starting to get it?”
My friend and I had both graduated from prestigious liberal arts colleges. Both students at the seminary a few blocks away. Both from middle class, professional families. We were dressed and groomed almost identically. The only difference was the color of our skin. He was tailed by a security officer and forced to prove his identity, while I experienced neither.
If you are a black person, you’d know that this sort of thing happens all the time. If you are a white person, you’d be inclined to think this was an isolated incident. Surely my friend wouldn’t experience this every time he shopped? This is an example of the blindness of white privilege. Because we take so much for granted, we are stunned when we discover that not everyone enjoys the same privileges; and what’s worse, rather than being given the benefit of the doubt, they are considered guilty until proven innocent.
I find racial injustice deeply troubling. If you are like most kind-hearted people, you want to be a positive force for justice, but you may not know what to do or what to say. That isn’t a good enough excuse to do nothing or to stay silent.
My African American friends and colleagues would rather I/we try to be a force for good….to support the hard fight for racial justice in America, than to be paralyzed by our own fear that we’ll say or do the wrong thing.
With God’s help, we’ll be a force for good.