A Lutheran Says What?

Sermons and random thoughts on God, the world and the intersection of the two

Intersectionality and the Reality of Hope April 16, 2016

Swirling around us on Facebook, television, and all other media seems to be the conversation on intersectionality. Yes, this word will be underlined in red by Microsoft Word, but trust me, it’s a real thing. It’s a word that delves us deep into complexity, brokenness and uncertainty and yet, I believe is also the source of our healing amidst great divisiveness. Intersectionality names all of the places where pain can be inflicted, where we must confront our own biases, privileges and where truth can be named. I’ve been personally drawn into this sacred space in the past couple of years as I wrestle with white privilege, gender bias, and all of the “isms” in which I live and I am deeply complicit. To name my own privilege: I am white, upper middle class, well-educated, heterosexual, married woman, who happens to also be ordained clergy in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. This gives me great privilege and a voice in our culture in ways that I know some of my brothers and sisters of color do not share. I am compelled as a follower of Jesus to name my brokenness, my division from others and yet risk my voice and privilege for the sake of those without.

While my “whiteness” affords me great privilege, my gender (especially in my vocation) often, in subtle and not so subtle ways, can be where I experience the brokenness of humanity. I have my fair share of stories of seemingly benign comments and “joking” remarks by male colleagues, people in the pews and in the community at large, that I won’t bore you with, but trust me when I say that misogyny is alive and well in as well as outside of the Church. It may not be overt as in catcalls or outright, blatant denial of my “right” to be seen as equal, or as “good as the men” but it’s much more subtle, nuanced and  so much more difficult to call out without be “a bitch” or “one of those feminists.” (By the by, a feminist is someone who believes that men and women are truly equal and deserve actual parity in every sphere of everyday life. Feminism is good for men as well!)

But I want to turn back to intersectionality for the rest of this post. I see white males writing posts about the “Black Lives Matter” movement and adding their voice to the conversation. This is a very important dialog in all of our communities and is, in my opinion, one of life and death for our brothers and sisters of color, as well as the whole of society. (We are inextricably bound to one another as the body of Christ and when one part of the body is not honored and treated with respect, we are all damaged.) White males lending their privilege and voice to the “Black Lives Matter” movement is crucial and one that I applaud. But here is what I wonder: why do these same men not affirm that their male (and often heterosexual) privilege is also an issue alongside their white privilege? I’ve had many a conversation with white males who say things such as “I can only deal with one thing at a time, and I’m going to deal with my whiteness first.” That statement alone is so steeped in entitlement and privilege that it makes my head spin. White men can and do wake up every morning and decide which aspect of their privilege that they will deal with today. Is it being white? Is it being male? Is it having every privilege known in the free world? Why not all three? Oh, because that’s hard, complex, overwhelming  and may require giving away too much of themselves. So, they can compartmentalize their privilege and go about their day. (I want to add that white women are also writing and contributing to the “Black Lives Matter” conversation but they often do not separate it from gender bias. But yes, some do.)

What about the black woman who also is gay? A Latina woman? Or an Indigenous woman? Or a transgender woman? She does not get to wake up and say, “Today, I will only worry about being oppressed as a black person.” Or, “Today I will only have to worry about being female in all my interactions.” Or, “Today I will only have to deal with being gay.” NO. She is all of those things each and every day and cannot choose how society will view her or how others will treat her. I can only imagine that it’s overwhelming and exasperating. Intersectionality requires these women to be conscious each and every second of their day all of the ways that they are seen when they walk in a room, speak up at a meeting, or even drive down the street. They do not get to compartmentalize themselves. They bring the whole of who they are into every situation. (Thanks be to God!)

At the church I currently serve, we are in the nascent stages of conversation around radical inclusion. A large part of our wrestling has been around where to begin and the reality of intersectionality.  Do we first enter into this call from Jesus with only one population, dealing with only one area at a time, such as people who are differently abled or white privilege? Is it too much to try and think about the physical and cognitive differently abled, racism, gender bias, LBGTQI biases, socio-economic differences, etc. right from the start of this ministry? Should it even be a separate ministry as it’s actually who we’re called to be as people who follow Jesus Christ who shows no partiality and includes all people, in all times and in all places in God’s love? What if  Jesus’ definition of intersectionality is different from ours?  If so,  what if this is where we find our hope and our voice going forward?

God intersects with humanity in the person of Jesus Christ; coming to humanity, being human, suffering human sorrows and experiencing human death. Jesus intersected with those whom the rest of society threw away, thought of as second or even third class. Jesus didn’t only focus on one marginalized population, but gathered women, gentiles, lepers, tax collectors, the unclean into his mission of redemption, love and complete wholeness. Jesus didn’t compartmentalize God’s redemption to one step at a time but intersected with all of creation with risky leaps and unfettered bounds. The cross is the place where this intersectionality of God takes on its deepest meaning and continues to draw us into intersections with one another. It is only when we are caught in the intersection of relationship in the Trinity and God’s work of redemption in the world that we can truly know radical inclusion, healing, peace and restoration of our divisions, our brokenness and our fear of the other. This relationship with God, requires us to die to our own privilege, our own false sense of security and safety and trust in the promises of God that ALL truly means ALL in God’s wholeness (salvation). It requires us to be in deep relationship with all whom God gathers. When we rest, trust, find our life, breath and purpose in that promise, we don’t worry that lifting up our brothers and sisters (all of who they are as created in the image of God) might diminish who WE are. We expand our idea of “we” and know that we are not “us” without whom we might now label “other.”

This is difficult work, this is risky, potentially life-ending work.It’s the end of our false identities given to us by a fearful world and the beginning of living into our true selves as people of God, wholly created in the image of pure love for sacred relationship with God and one another.  It’s where we are confronted with the reality of God’s vision for wholeness and our own fears and need for control. It’s where we find that there are more options than in/out, included/excluded, me/you, and us/them. It’s where we find the third way in the cross of Christ: hope in radical oneness, gifted with beautiful, messy and  God-created diversity.

 

 

“Let us go to the other side” Mark 4: 35-41 Year B, Pentecost, June 21, 2015 June 19, 2015

*I am posting my sermon early as this is also what is ricocheting around in my soul after hearing about the senseless act committed in the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church, Wednesday June 17th. May God have mercy on us all.  

“Let us go across to the other side.” These words of Jesus are ones that the disciples will never forget. With these words, their lives, perspectives, worldviews, and what they thought was foundational truth would be shattered. These disciples knew the Sea of Galilee, knew it quite well, I mean some of these disciples were fishermen. Boats, water and sailing, this they had down! Seemed simple enough in that moment; get it in the boat, like they had hundreds or maybe even thousands of times before. But this time was different, they were going all the way to the other side. The other side where the Gentiles lived, the people whom the disciples had heard their whole lives were unclean, not part of God’s chosen people, weird, different, excluded or maybe even scary. The disciples had no idea that on the other side would be a man possessed by a spirit named Legion because there many demons inside this man. The very kind of person their mothers had warned them about.

Jesus did not ask them to go to the other side, it wasn’t a question or an invitation; it was a command, a statement of what was happening. The disciples were going to the other side whether they liked it or not. This is what it means to be a follower of Jesus, going where there is uncertainty, uncomfortableness, confrontation of their biases and the possibility of being changed forever.

“Let us go to the other side.” How many of us can resonate with that statement of fact in our lives? How many of us have gone to the other side in our lives whether we liked it or not; pushed through a door that we did not want to walk through because we knew that it would be hard? Maybe it was a cancer diagnosis, a job loss, a revelation of a secret from a family member or friend, an unexpected or untimely death of a loved one, or the sacred in your life being shattered. Or maybe “going to the other side” means that as a community you have not had a permanent pastor longer than you wanted, as much money as you wanted, as many members, or had to figure out how to live together in the midst of diversity of thought and opinion?  Going to the other side in our lives is inevitable. It usually encompasses being caught in a storm and wondering if Jesus cares at all that we feel scared, alone, hurting, grieving and struggling, perishing and trying to figure out what is going on.

“Let us go to the other side.” Going to the other side is often stormy. The waves crash and threaten to drown us in fear. This going to the other side hardly seems worth it or meaningful, why is Jesus sending us where we don’t want to go? This week in our nation we learned the consequences of not going to the other side when Jesus commands it. Out of fear of who could be on the other side of the sea, a young man (whom we also pray for as a beloved child of God) walked into a Bible study, sat with other brothers and sisters of Christ and heard about God’s love for all for an hour and then decided that fear overruled that love of God for everyone and nine children of our loving God were killed for no other reason than fear from the color of their skin. This young man was raised in the ELCA church. Two of the pastors studied at Lutheran Theological Southern Seminary. This young man’s sin is our sin.

We have to recognize as a predominately white denomination that we have to do better. We have to stand in solidarity with our brothers and sisters of different races and genders, who are LBGTQI, who socio-economically do not have a voice, and all who are on the margins of our society and culture. We must truly welcome everyone into the body of Christ, for ALL of us have fallen short because Jesus’ grace, love and mercy are for ALL people, in all times and in all places, no matter what, no conditions or qualifications.  I don’t think that it’s just an aside that Mark adds the sentence, “Other boats were with him. (Jesus)” We are the body of Christ, we are all gathered on the sea to go to the other side with this Jesus who radically proclaims:  “Let us go to the other side where people who are different than us and people whom we don’t understand live. For I am coming to the other side for all people, for God comes to all of you no matter what.” Jesus brings all of us with him in his boat and on the same sea to be the voice for the voiceless, to bring healing to those who are possessed by fear, to say no more violence toward any of God’s children anywhere in the world, and to love no matter how afraid or uncomfortable we ourselves might be. I want to be clear, this isn’t about being a liberal or a conservative or whatever labels we like to give ourselves and define ourselves with. This is about all of us living in our primary “label” as a child of God. That is the only label that matters because Black Lives Matter and All Lives Matter.

I stand before you a white person, a white preacher in a predominately white and upper class church and I admit my sin and guilt in all the ways that I have not acknowledged my privilege and leveraged it for the lifting up of my brothers and sisters. I confess that I don’t even fully understand all of the privilege I possess as a white, middle class, heterosexual, well-educated woman. I confess that I have looked at other people through eyes of fear and not through the eyes of God. I confess that I have shied away from proclaiming this before now out of fear of offending someone or losing status. The events of this week make it very clear to me that I, that we, must get in the boat and go to the other side with Jesus no matter how uncomfortable or scared we are. We lament, which is a call to action, with our brothers and sisters. We hold them in prayer, but we alsolook for ways to change the system of hate with the love of Jesus; we know it’s not just enough to go to church because we are called through our baptisms to BE the church-the people of God revealing and PARTICIPATING in the reconciling work of Jesus in the world. God, who is faithful and just, forgives us our sin and declares all is being made new! Live in that newness with one another!

“Let us go across to the other side.” Jesus didn’t say that it would be easy, without storms or without fear. But Jesus does promise to be with us, to speak the words “Peace! Be Still!” not just to the stormy sea around us, but will speak those words TO US and to all of humanity as well.  I believe that Jesus was with the people at Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church Wednesday night. I don’t like it, but I believe that Jesus is with Dylann Roof.  We don’t always like getting in the boat with Jesus and everyone whom Jesus loves and go to the other side. But in the crossing is transformation. The transforming unconditional love, grace and mercy that Jesus has for all people brings us to the other side. When we reach that shore, we recognize that God is already there at work, loving, healing and drawing all people into God’s arms to be one people on the sea, even a stormy sea, with Jesus. We can’t grasp this amazing love but the good news is that it grasps us because Jesus cares very much that we are perishing in our own hate, fear and self-protection.

We, like the disciples, will always wrestle with the question, “Who then is this?” This Jesus defies our labels, our personal agendas and opinions, moves us from fear into love, stills our storms, is in our boat, is in the boat with those different from us, is with those who are being killed and killing, is weeping with those who grieve, is sending us to the other side with God’s love and mercy and promises to be with us always. So may these words, “Let us go to the other side with Jesus” be words that we, too like the disciples, never forget. Amen.

We pray for the families of Cynthia Hurd, Rev. Sharonda Singleton, Ethel Lance, Tywanza Sanders, Rev. Clementa Pinckney, Myra Thompson, Rev. DePayne Middleton-Doctor, Rev. Daniel Simmons, and Susie Jackson.

We also pray for the family of Dylann Roof.

We pray for us all.