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Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Joyce M. Anderson is a Provisional Elder in the Eastern Pennsylvania Conference of the United Methodist Church. She draws on her MBA and MDiv education and nonprofit and for-profit corporate work experiences to encourage an “Art of War” approach to spiritual warfare.

Friday, January 20, 2012

In one of his outrageous stand-up comedy routines Chris Rock goes on a tirade declaring that doctors do not cure anything [expletive]. According to Chris, “the money is in the medicine”, and we are duped into a pharmaceutical malaise that is mediated by doctors, who are, in religious terminology, “fleecing the flock” while trying to push research and drugs.  It’s a disturbing observation, but he manages to make it comical.
This led me to think of the churches that on a denominational level tout a strategic mission of “curing” racism. Their goal is to “eliminate racism”, by engaging tactics of “healing the wounds” caused by it.  How arrogant and unrealistic is this goal for the church against the Jeremiah Chapter 30 prophecy that our “wound is incurable”?  For the most part, the success of our fight against this universal human indignity is gauged by activities, such as seminars, consortiums, retreats, and conferences, fronted by the kamikaze missions of cross-racial appointments.  Similar to Chris Rock’s observations of doctors and medicine, when we gather to “deal” with racism, there is money in it for the hotels, restaurants, airlines, trains, gas stations, printers and publishers, retreat centers and monastic communities.  Meanwhile, there is no real evidence of cure. We are pursuing healing for a human condition that human beings simply cannot make happen.  Jeremiah gave us a hint that some wounds are simply incurable. Just as our faithfulness relies on and derives from God’s great faithfulness, the cure for human ills is found in Christ alone through the Holy Spirit.  Only God’s mercy can prepare our hearts to be led by the Holy Spirit to speak the truth in love as Christ would do. In and of ourselves, we will never cure or eliminate racism, not even within the church. We’re obsessed and enamored with the distractions, which is where the money is. 

4 comments:

  1. Thank you for this important meditation. I was challenged by it. What strikes me is how very deep the wounds of racism are. A friend of mine says that we are never going to fully understand the depths of our wounds until we are able to deconstruct RACIALIZED THINKING itself. A part of that argument is the reminder that the concept of RACE was invented in the 18th century. Before that, there was no such thing as race, other than the human race. I believe that all of that gets to an even deeper problem/part of our fallen condition, and that is our fear and loathing of difference (however it presents itself). Racialized thinking and racism seem to be one facet of a fundamental fear/dislike/mistrust of whatever or whoever is different.

    Bryan

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    1. And the deepest part of this wound is that we bleed the same blood and cry the same tears largely for the same hurts, sadnesses and disappointments in life. The "differences", like the "racializing" constructs are fabricated and superficial and exacerbate the wound.

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  2. I attended the YWCA Racial Institute one summer while at LTS. I was appalled when an instructor stated, "They don't know the racial stereotypes." and another answered, "Well, we'll have to teach them the stereotypes so we can deconstruct them."

    I was floored.

    To go with your analogy, it would be to inflict the wound and then try to heal the unhealable. It still doesn't make sense to me.

    There maybe other wounds that the instructors couldn't see. There are things we simply can't talk about, or articulate well and to some extent we're all wounded-healers (let's give it up for world 5!). But to inflict old harms, to teach old stereotypes confounds me. I just don't get it. Any thoughts?

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    1. I guess as much as I would love to go with the bit and give them the benefit of the doubt, and believe that the "stereotypes" are worth teaching, the scary part is that they could range from the expectation that a black person is the borrower more likely to have bad credit, the lawyer who most probably failed the Bar exam on the first try, the waitress who cannot be trusted around the tip jar, or the black pastor who can't preach for less than 45 minutes.
      The bigger problem is that these stereotypes, no matter who is teaching, them are an amalgamation of perceived (limited) personal experience mixed with unlimited societal bunk.
      Being senior clergy and an educator, I feel pretty sure that no one is likely to accuse me of dipping into the office petty cash, at least not coming out the gate. But in any group or gathering, no one will ever assume - coming out the gate - that I could be the smartest person in the room.
      Whether you are black or white - the next time you're in a meeting of professional peers with one black person among all whites, consciously register for yourself how surprised or impressed you are if the black participant has an exceptional vocabulary or grasp of the substantive aspect of the topic discussed.
      It's like love: when you expect, deserve, and don't get it; it hurts. As the expression and naming if our wounds is more respected and welcomed, we do move closer to healing.

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