From Your Associate Executive for Racial Justice

“Make a career of humanity. Commit yourself to the noble struggle for equal rights. You will make a better person of yourself, a greater nation of your country, and a finer world to live in.” — Martin Luther King, Jr.

One of the favorite pastimes of my family and other cultures is to gather and talk, laugh, and tell stories. The telling of stories is powerful. They are filled with wisdom, teaching, warning, warmth, laughter, and love. One element of these storytelling interactions is the connection to our ancestry. The telling of stories gives us a sense of belonging, a social location, a generational context, and a sense that our place on this planet is connected to lives and stories beyond our reach.

In a recent trip to Puerto Rico, I was invited to a “coloquio”—a roundtable conversation—with a couple of women leaders from one of the presbyteries of the Synod of Boriquén. The host of the “coloquio” was the first Latina woman to be ordained in the PCUSA. She was also the Teaching Elder who baptized me. As I was in her house, with my daughter and surrounded by many women who have shaped me throughout the years, I thought of the current state of the USA. On the one hand, I am participating in a gathering where women, women of color, are freely gathering and talking. On the other hand, I think of Renee Good and the countless women throughout human history whose voices have been denied and silenced, bodies seen as property, and mind and spirit questioned and ridiculed.

The shooting of Renee Good and Alex Pretti has alerted a sector of the population to the capacity of law and government to make decisions to unalive and threaten the lives of civilians and citizens. To other sectors of society, like Black, Indigenous, and People of Color (BIPOC), particularly the African American community, these shootings are not seen as surprises. These communities have experienced the weaponization of federal law against them. “Law and order” have been code words to surveil Black bodies. The establishment of “sundown towns,” the criminalization of Black bodies, which consequently led to their mass incarceration, the normalization of mob groups like the Ku Klux Klan, and the deployment of police and federal agents into Black neighborhoods prevents BIPOC communities to see recent events as isolated, or new, or surprising.

In the book The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness,” author Michelle Alexander writes, “The nature of the criminal justice system has changed. It is no longer primarily concerned with the prevention and punishment of crime, but rather with the management and control of the dispossessed.” Some of our communities have experienced systematic management and control of our bodies, social location, housing opportunities, and the dictation of who lives and who stays alive. February is a month where love and friendship are celebrated. It is also Black History Month. In the wake of recent shootings, the weaponization of “law and order,” the blunt misinformation being sold to the masses, the intentional lying by government officials, and twisting of facts about sibling citizens, I pray that the body of Christ can galvanize, wake up, and take upon the call that MLK Jr. placed to us: "Make a career of humanity. Commit yourself to the noble struggle for equal rights. You will make a better person of yourself, a greater nation of your country, and a finer world to live in.”

The gospel of Matthew reminds us that:

“The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few…”—Matthew 9:37.

“Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me…”—Matthew 25:40.

“Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.” —Matthew 25:45. 

The call to restore humanity in all and reconcile God’s creation to Godself is a call placed to all since baptism. I invite us all to take this month of February to reflect on the privilege some of us have of tracing our ancestry, of enjoying the gift of storytelling, and naming the privilege of existing freely in a world and a system that allows some to thrive and others to struggle. I invite us all to learn, listen, and welcome discomfort in the learning that Black History Month offers us. It is okay to feel discomfort unlearning lies and learning the stories of our siblings from our African American communities. Recent events have reminded us that the system only protects itself. God is calling us to be counter cultural. In what ways can we embody Christ and his values of mercy, justice, kindness, and love? That is a question we need to discern and answer individually and collectively. May God give us discernment, illumination, and courage to hear, receive, and do.

Let us pray:

Drive Me Deep to Face Myself" from Guerrillas of Grace: Prayers for the Battle" by Ted Loder p. 53

"Lord, grant me your peace, 

for I have made peace 

with what does not give peace, 

and I am afraid. 

Drive me deep, now, 

to face myself so I may see 

that what I truly need to fear is 

my capacity to deceive 

and willingness to be deceived, 

my loving of things 

and using of people, 

my struggle for power 

and shrinking of soul, 

my addiction to comfort 

and sedation of conscience, 

my readiness to criticize 

and reluctance to create, 

my clamor for privilege 

and silence at injustice, 

my seeking for security 

and forsaking the kingdom. 

Lord, grant me your peace. 

Instill in me such fear of you 

as will begin to make me wise, 

and such quiet courage 

as will enable me to begin to make 

hope visible, 

forgiving delightful, 

loving contagious, 

faith liberating, 

peace-making joyful 

and myself open and present 

to other people 

and your kingdom.

Amen.

Peace and Blessings (¡Paz y bendiciones!) 

Rev. Ruth-Aimée Belonni-Rosario

Associate Executive for Racial Justice

ruthaimee@synodofthecovenant.org

248-752-3697