It has been said that confession is good for the soul. And, as a
pastor in community, I find that I sometimes need to make a public confession.
Its not to beat myself up. Or the wallow in some kind of self-pity or guilt.
Just a simple statement of fact, an admission of failure, and a resolve to turn
around.
I have been deeply moved by the events that have unfolded in
Ferguson, MO over the past few months. I am particularly moved by the voices of
young black men and women, voicing their despair, their experiences of violence
and fear, their wild hope for a better future. Some of their experiences of
poverty and violence are similar to the experiences of young women and men all
over this country, across racial difference. And, yet, we do not talk to each
other.
As a white gal in a majority white town, I can choose to
ignore the racial divides among us.
A wake up call for me was a conversation I recently had with a young Latina woman in this community. As I struggled and fumbled with my very rusty Spanish, she told me
about her experiences of racism. And she challenged me: she asked me if my work
was just for whites or if it was for Latinos too.
I haven’t been able to get that conversation out of my head.
I haven’t been able to get away from the realization that it is so easy for me
to ignore the experiences of my Latino and Native and Black brothers and sisters
in this community. To come up with excuses about how busy I am or how bad my
Spanish sounds or how divisive these things are.
The young woman I spoke with was a prophet in this
community. She was challenging power and challenging the systems of racism in
our society. And I needed to hear her words.
So, this is my confession. And my commitment. To listen. To
continue to build relationships with the Native peoples of this community. To
intentionally talk about racism in our community and to intentionally listen to
my black and Latino brothers and sisters. To prioritize this work.
Because confession is all about repentance, is it not? 
It is always good to remember we can count on God tapping on our heart yhrough our brothers and sisters...you will make a good bridge/way to connect many...love from Oaxaca♥
ReplyDeleteYes indeed, Mary! Love to you too.
DeleteI have recently been exposed to men and women of color who have been in the prisons of Massachusetts. The women gave birth in prison, in shackles!!! The man, out on parole, had been put back in prison by the parole board after being found innocent of an offence. These are stories I don't usually hear. They are powerful stories. I need to listen, to share, and to bring others to hear these stories. Thanks for your example.
ReplyDeleteI think prisons are some of the worst forms of violence in our society. Thank you, Newell, for your witness.
DeleteMy experience with you Sarah is that you DO listen AND RESPOND to all our people in the community without regard to race, gender, and/or ethnicity. I have never known you to focus ONLY on whites and you are truly a valuable role model for the rest of us. Thank you for coming back "home", wanting to make a difference for folks, and doing something about it!! Your example warms my heart ... I appreciate the opportunity to offer support and join in small ways as you walk / journey to follow God's word. Bless you for caring deeply about others and peace!!! Mert
ReplyDeleteMert, It has been a tremendous blessing to share this ministry with you. You yourself are an amazing witness in the community. Thank YOU for sharing in this journey and for your words of encouragement.
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