Introduction This morning I'd like to bring together our theme for this series of messages, ``What is God saying to FMC?'' with the fact that this is the weekend when we celebrate Martin Luther King and his legacy in American life. King's holiday gives me an excuse to visit with you about the great evil of racism. Eventually we must this morning think about racism by turning the spotlight inward, upon ourselves, here at our beloved church. This is an important topic for us to think about if we care about our church and community. It is a topic that for many people is omnipresentthey are always aware of issues of race. But for others, especially those who are ``white,'' it is a subject one can just ignore. That is one of the ``privileges'' of being white. I don't stand here as an expert on racism. It is hard for me to understand what basic terms mean. I have a vague recollection of years ago being taught that there were four basic races on our planet: Mongoloid, Caucasoid, Negroid, and Australoid. Three of these ``races'' are associated with place and history, every group except the Negroid race. They were not identified with a place, only with a skin color. As scientists began to study these groups, they kept having to divide people up all the more. They found far more variety with the groups than between them. Eventually the modern day understanding was reached, that there really is no such thing as race. There is just one race, the human race. Therefore, in actuality, race is a myth. There is no such thing as race. But racism is for real. That people divide up the human family along perceived racial lines, and then build prejudices on those assumptions, that is real. Racism is real even though it is built upon a myth, that there is such a thing as different races within the human family. So racism is. Let's take that and put it to the side. Now let's think about Sunday mornings. Here we are again, together, on a Sunday morning. What is said about Sunday mornings in America? You've all heard it before: the most segregated hour in American life is at 11 am on Sunday mornings. You can go to Jon's Bear Club, or a Reedley College geography class, or the city council meeting, and you won't find anything like what you see on Sunday mornings in church. And what is there to do about that? I tell you, I really hate that critique. I get defensive. You can find a lot of ways of explaining it. I get mad. There are a lot of other churches in the same boat so don't just look at my church. I feel frustrated. I don't know that I'll ever experience anything different in my entire lifetime. Acts 9:1-9 I don't think you need much convincing that the biblical record deplores racism. God, who created all people in God's image. Who calls everyone to his holy mountain. In Christ there is ``no Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for you are on in Christ Jesus.'' We know Jesus as the friend of all, one who welcomed all into this presence.
You probably know that in the Mennonite world in our country a lot of anti-racism work has gone on under the title ``Damascus Road.'' The Damascus Road training program, sponsored by MCC US, has had a significant impact on many different Mennonite institutions and congregations. Mennonite Church USA, as it was formed, was profoundly shaped by this anti-racist training program.
When it comes to our attitudes and actions pertaining to race, maybe we all need a Damascus Road experience.
Meanwhile Saul, still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord, went to the high priest and asked him for letters to the synagogues at Damascus, so that if he found any who belonged to the Way, men or women, he might bring them bound to Jerusalem. Now as he was going along and approaching Damascus, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, ``Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?'' He asked, ``Who are you, Lord?'' The reply came, ``I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. But get up and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do.'' The men who were traveling with him stood speechless because they heard the voice but saw no one. Saul got up from the ground, and though his eyes were open, he could see nothing; so they led him by the hand and brought him into Damascus. For three days he was without sight, and neither ate nor drank. You know the story. Saul is taken to Ananias in Damascus. Ananias is at first uncertain but soon lays his hands upon Saul and says
Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on your way here, has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit. Soon Saul will be preaching that Jesus is the Son of God. The Damascus Road training program uses Saul's conversion experience on the Damascus Road to call the church to another conversion experience, toward becoming centers of healing and hope, places committed to the struggle against the power of racism. Just plain living Rodney King said, ``can't we just all get along?'' I know I want to say, ``Is it really that bad? Just look at all the diversity around us. Just lighten up and live.'' But I know that I see only in part. Here and there friends have pointed out to me how I see the world through my own filters. If only I could see what they know to be real. Once I was with an African-American friend in South Carolina. We were in a car together and we weren't sure how to get to our destination. So I quickly proposed that we stop and ask for directions. I zipped into a convenience store parking lot, jumped out of the car, and burst into the store, my friend cautiously trailing behind. I was fairly loud and aggressive in asking for directions. The white man behind the counter gave us directions. We left. That was the end of it. At least it was for me. My friend experienced the encounter far differently. He saw and felt the experience with the man behind the counter far differently. Suspicion and hostility lurked in the air. He could feel the tension in the air. He was even a bit afraid of what the man behind the counter might do. On another occasion I was with a delegation of African-American Mennonites in a game park in Kenya. I was the only white person in our group. We stopped by a lake to look at the scenery. Nearby another van load of European tourists was parked. The Europeans were admiring the scenery as well. Maybe we milled around for 15 minutes, taking pictures and talking. Then we got back in the van and headed off. Immediately the conversation in our van turned to the Europeans. Did you see that? Did you hear that? I had completely missed a whole boat load of non-verbal signals. Glances. Cameras held closer to the hip. Whispered words. All the little signals that said, we are suspicious of you. We better be careful. And maybe deep down at an unconscious level, we are better than you and we must protect our position. Things that come along with being White I am learning that there are different ways of experiencing life in America. If you are acknowledged as white you live with some different assumptions and privileges. I think most of these are unseen and unspoken.
Tobin Miller Shearer talks about ``spaces'' (or perhaps ``themes'') that white folks need to grapple with to better understand themselves. Those of us who are white face tough issues. (Set Free, pp. 87-88) One of the critical spaces is what Tobin calls ``loss.'' As European-Americans we have lost something in becoming white. Most European-Americans have lost or given up much of their culture and history. I think Tobin would say we have given up, perhaps intentionally or perhaps not, a particular sense of who we are and where we came from in order to blend in to the great American melting pot. Those German signs in the Fellowship Hall are a reminder of that past. The first language my dad knew was German but he lost much of it in the great task of assimilation. Some want to forget the past and just deal with the present. This may be rooted in embarrassment or just not caring but, in any case, a story was lost. This is why it is good that we strive to remember where we come from. Our active Centennial Committee is a good example of trying to make history relevant. Another space that is difficult to face and acknowledge is our need for control. I am certainly accustomed to having a fair degree of control, of power, of being able to shape the parameters of a discussion or a problem. Tobin sees this as a spiritual problem. We want things to be under our very tangible control. The answer is to ``ground ourselves in God'' and not always place ourselves (us white folks) in positions of control and authority. Our church One of the privileges of being white in America is that you can live with a comfortable sense that most of the messages coming to me are familiar. I took a drive over to Rite-Aid to check this out. I'm going to walk around the store and just look at the magazines, the pictures on the walls, and see what I feel. Most of the magazines, most of the pictures on the wall, were of white people like me. Then I thought about television, movies, sports, the newspaper. What do I see? Who are the news anchors? Who are the reporters? Who populates the tv shows? Now I didn't study this but my impression is that there is more and more diversity displayed through these mediums, and that the effort to put people of color in positions of authority is moving beyond tokenism. But then, we have to think about our church. Perhaps this issue of control is a starting point for us in looking at our own church and community. Where does control and power lie in our church? Who is at the front? Who makes the decisions? Is control and power exerted in both formal and informal ways? Obviously here at our church we must continue to face the challenges of being one church with two worship options. I believe it is a key, critical challenge which stares us in the face as we look into the future. We look at our town and its changing ethnic demographics. What does this say to us and our future as a congregation? Or put another way. Can we become more authentically one church? What would it take? What would it mean? I think it is fairly easy to participate in First Mennonite Church life without a vivid sense that there is another worshiping body that is just as much ``us,'' who we are. If we try to become more than we are now we will have to face these spaces of loss and control. Does desiring to become more truly one mean that everyone has to lose a sense of history, or lose a sense of cultural preferencesall for the sake of some homogenized new reality? What a challenge! To move to a new space without huge loss. Trying to become more also means addressing these control issues. I can feel my defensiveness rising even as I speak! What might this mean for decisions about this physical space we are in, who we ask to pastor us, what music we sing, where we send our money? I'm staring to feel queazy! Montgomery, Alabama, 1955 In 1955 black folks in Montgomery, Alabama decided to boycott the segregated bus system in their town. They simply refused to ride the buses. There was a cost. It meant people had to walk sometimes three miles to get to work, then work all day, then walk three miles home. There were lots of meetings where they talked about this. Out of that context, this story is told. There was a meeting. The boycott had been going on for eight or nine months. It was hard and people were tired. The young people in the meeting were getting tired too. They said, maybe it's time to stop walking. For the older women, it has to be so hard. We have to stop walking out of compassion for them. About that time an elderly woman rose to her feet and walked down from the back to the front. ``Don't stop nuthin' for me,'' she said. ``I've got this vision that someday I can sit anywhere I want to on the bus. My feet are tired but my soul is rested, so I feel I can keep on walking for awhile.'' Can we too, right here at First Mennonite Church, capture a vision of what God might have for usall of us, and more of usthat takes us to a place where we've never been before. Amen.
