I'd like to share with you an email I sent this past week to Bill Roberts, our Senior Warden, about the lectionary reading today from the Gospel According to Luke, and I'd also like to share with you his very kind and thoughtful response.
Hi Bill,
I noticed in the lectionary readings for this coming Sunday that the Gospel According to Luke (12:32-40) contains the following paragraph:
"Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit; be like those who are waiting for their master to return from the wedding banquet, so that they may open the door for him as soon as he comes and knocks. Blessed are those slaves whom the master finds alert when he comes; truly I tell you, he will fasten his belt and have them sit down to eat, and he will come and serve them. If he comes during the middle of the night, or near dawn and finds them so, blessed are those slaves."
The gospel reading says that some people are blessed to be slaves. To whom is this reading addressed? Is it addressed to Black Episcopalians? If it is, is it telling us, as so many White racists have, that slave masters were good to us, and that we were better off as slaves? If it's not addressed to us, then why is it going to be read to us? Are we supposed to accept it passively as members of the congregation? If the reading is only addressed to the congregation as a whole, and not specifically to its Black members, then why are we being ignored or unrecognized?
I don't have any problem with the reading if it's going to be put in context by the reader or preacher on Sunday. But I think it's a mistake to present readings like this without appropriate context.
For the last two years, I've been concerned with the question of addressivity. When I listen to the lectionary readings on Sunday, I wonder: To whom are these readings addressed? Are they addressed to us? How are they addressed to us? If they're not addressed to us and are merely addressed to the Romans or Galatians or Colossians, then why are we reading them? Are we reading them merely out of historical interest? Are they only indirectly addressed to us or are they in fact directly addressed to us?
My concern with the question of addressivity began about two years ago, when for four or five Sundays in a row, in the aftermath of the killing of George Floyd and the wave of protests that swept across the country, we had a series of lectionary readings from Peter and Paul saying that we're blessed when we suffer, and that we should feel blessed in our suffering. Below is a link to a blog article I wrote about this concept of suffering, which I discussed in a reflection at the Faith at Eight service. It's a rather long reflection, so I don't actually expect you to read through it, but it expresses my concern about what the Church is telling its Black parishioners and parishioners of color.
This problem of lectionary readings being presented without appropriate context isn't a problem specific to Memorial Episcopal Church, it's a problem of the whole Episcopal Church--unrecognized and waiting to be addressed--just as Black Episcopalians are waiting to be addressed and waiting to be spoken to directly as Black Episcopalians.
How does the Episcopal Church expect to attract Blacks to its membership if it doesn't speak directly to them? When do members of the church hierarchy ever speak directly to Black Episcopalians, except perhaps at an annual convention of the UBE (Union of Black Episcopalians)? Why are we only recognized as members of larger (usually largely white) congregations or as members of a beloved (i.e. mostly white or integrated) community, rather than as having interests and concerns of our own?
I don't expect you, Bill, to have an immediate solution for this problem, but thanks for giving me a chance to blow off a little steam, and maybe this problem is one the Worship Committee can address (I can't get away from that word) in the future.
Your brother in Christ,
Alex
This was Bill's very perceptive and insightful response:
Alex, I understand your concern, and I share it. There are many references in scripture that are troublesome to me: uncritical characterizations of slaves and slavery, such as you mention here, references to the deity in feudal--and always masculine--terms (princes, kings, etc.), and many others, that I find unhelpful at best, and directly counter to the message of the gospel at worst. I have sometimes heard these things addressed from the pulpit, but as sermons are time-limited, many times preachers just don't ever get around to addressing these jarring terms, or putting them in context.
I think your indictment of the Episcopal Church as being friendly to Black people only when it suits them has strong evidence to support it. I believe that there has been a shift in this during Michael Curry's episcopate, but the church has a long way to go, as he often says.
I am not a theologian, or anything remotely close to it, and I don't articulate on this issue very effectively. But I have often wished for a revised lectionary that would present scripture in enlightened terms, helping us to get to the message that Jesus wants us to understand, rather than just putting it out there unvarnished (translated by whom and with what motives?), leaving us to suppose what we will about who it is addressing and what it is trying to say. Sermons are supposed to help us with that, and--at least at Memorial--they very often do. For me, at least. The other thing that has helped me with this is Bible study, which, pre-COVID, I used to enjoy at Memorial. I know I wouldn't feel the same way about Bible study on Zoom, as I never feel truly connected to a group that way, so I continue to hope the day will come when we will be able to gather in indoor groups for discussion the way we used to, unmasked.
I have no real answer for you about what to do about it. But I do want you to know that I hear you, and validate your concerns. And in our little corner of the Episcopal Church that is Memorial, I think we have a lot of company.
Bill
So I'm very grateful to Bill for his being so kind and supportive, and for making me feel validated.
This past week, I was reading a new book by the Rev. Gayle Fisher-Stewart entitled Black and Episcopalian: The Struggle for Inclusion (2022), in which she describes a "plantation theology," a "plantation eschatology that told the enslaved that if they were good slaves and obeyed their masters, one day they would get to heaven."1
Although I see the problem of being Black and Episcopalian as more a matter of the addressivity (or lack of it) of the Church's teachings for Black Episcopalians than a matter of the struggle of Black Episcopalians to be included in the Church, I think Rev. Fisher-Stewart's description of plantation theology might well be applied to our gospel reading today.
A few weeks ago, Father Grey asked us what we thought about the importance of hospitality and welcome, and I think I said something to the effect that we must also acknowledge the importance of making people feel like they belong. During my recent fiftieth high school reunion, when the board of trustees was talking about its diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives at the school, one of the members of the board of trustees said that it's not enough for a school to be welcoming and inclusive, it also has to offer its students a sense of belonging. I think the same is true of a church. A church has to offer its members a sense of belonging.
As I was reading more this past week about this concept of belonging, I learned that in human resource management, the trend has been shifting over the last few years from an emphasis on diversity and inclusion to an emphasis on diversity, equity, and inclusion, and most recently to an emphasis on diversity, equity, inclusion, and belonging (thus, the acronym DEIB).2 Although these human resource principles have focused on the workplace, I think they may also be applied to the Church. It's not enough for a church to promote diversity, equity, and inclusiveness. It must also promote a sense of belonging, if it's to fulfill its mission to its members.
An inclusive church, and a church where people feel a sense of belonging, is a place where people feel safe and where they don't have to be afraid to reveal their talents, abilities, and aspirations, as well as their doubts, insecurities, and uncertainties.3 It's a place where people can fully express themselves and can reveal who they truly are, without having to worry about being judged or criticized, and where they can contribute to the church's mission by utilizing their own particular talents and abilities.
A church where people feel a sense of belonging is also a space where everyone can bring their whole self to worship and can express themselves freely, a place where everyone belongs, and where everyone feels a shared sense of purpose.4 It' s place where people feel valued for who they are, and where it's recognized that each of us is different in some way from others. It's also a place where people are celebrated for the unique contributions they make to the church and to the community.
At the same time, it should be recognized that principles of diversity, equity, and inclusion are not just about race and gender, they're also about ethnicity, sexual orientation, spirituality, religious beliefs, political opinions, and so on.
Being a church where people feel a sense of belonging is more than just being a church where inclusiveness is encouraged. Just because someone is included in a church doesn't necessarily mean they feel like they belong.5 Belonging reflects a sense of connection, an appreciation for being recognized as an individual, as well as a sense of shared purpose and commitment.
In a video entitled "Why Should I Be an Episcopalian?" former Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori is asked the question, "If I were a person without a church or a denomination, and I came to you and asked you about becoming an Episcopalian, what would you say to me to convince me to become an Episcopalian?" and Bishop Schori responds very honestly and eloquently by saying, "The Episcopal Church is a tradition that thinks that your gifts are important, that thinks that you have a ministry by virtue of being baptized, and that the job of this group of people called the Church is to support each other in living that out in the world. We are a diverse body of people, we don't all think the same thing. Sometimes that's challenging, but it's also exciting...You will find in this body people to love, and people who will love you, and people who will challenge you, and they may be the same ones. This body will challenge you to grow, to develop in your relationship with God, to develop in your ability to serve your neighbor, and to love your neighbor and serve God in the process."6
When I heard Bishop Schori say the Episcopal Church is a church where every member has a ministry by virtue of being baptized, her words really resonated for me. A church where people feel a sense of belonging is a church where every member is encouraged to fulfill their own sense of ministry.
At the same time, I'm not downplaying the importance of welcome and hospitality. The Rev. Stephanie Spellers, in her book Radical Welcome: Embracing God, The Other, and the Spirit of Transformation (2006), defines radical welcome as "the spiritual practice of embracing and being changed by the gifts, presence, voices, and power of the Other: the people systematically cast out of or marginalized within a church, a denomination, and/or society."7 She distinguishes between what radical welcome is and what it is not. She says that radical welcome is hospitable, it's connected, it's centered, it's open to conversion, it's intentional, it's comprehensive, it's becoming, it's beyond diversity, it's faithful, it's compassionate, and it's real. On the other hand, radical welcome is not an invitation to assimilation, it's not a feel-good ministry, it's not reverse discrimination, it's not a conventional church growth strategy, and it's not political correctness or "a haphazard, reactionary throwing out of the baby with the bathwater."8 But the radically welcoming congregation is not merely an inviting or inclusive congregation. Radical welcome goes beyond inviting, beyond encouraging diversity, and beyond inclusion. Rev. Spellers says "the movement from inviting to inclusion to radical welcome is the move toward cultivating mutually transforming relationship." That is, when we as a church radically welcome those who have been marginalized or not welcomed in the past, we ourselves are changed and transformed by the process of developing relationships with them.9
So I'd like to thank all of you for helping me to grow, to feel connected, to feel refreshed, to feel encouraged, to recognize the importance of love in the ministry of our rector, our deacon, our vestry, and so many other members of our church, and to feel a sense of belonging to this community.
FOOTNOTES
1Gayle Fisher-Stewart, Black and Episcopalian: The Struggle for Inclusion (New York: Church Publishing, 2022), p. 9.
2Neelie Verlinden, "Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Belonging (DEIB): A 2022 Overview," AIHR (Academy to Innovate HR), online at https://www.aihr.com/blog/diversity-equity-inclusion-belonging-deib/#:~:text=sense%20of%20belonging.-,What's%20the%20difference%20between%20inclusion%20and%20belonging%3F,results%20from%20your%20inclusion%20efforts
3Ibid.
4Ibid.
5Anita Sands, "Diversity and Inclusion aren't what matter. Belonging is what counts," March 26, 2019, online at https://anitasands.medium.com/diversity-and-inclusion-arent-what-matter-belonging-is-what-counts-4a75bf6565b5
6Jim DeLa, "Why should I be an Episcopalian?", online at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oQSWporCpfY&t=9s
7Stephanie Spellers, Radical Welcome: Embracing God, The Other, and the Spirit of Transformation (New York: Church Publishing, 2006), p. 6.
8Ibid., pp. 15-18.
9Ibid., p. 72.
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