Confessions of an Evangelical UU

Well, I've posted his previous tripe, I might as well post this too.

From Buchanan's 3/21 post on his blog:

Barack says we need to have a conversation about race in America.

 

Fair enough. But this time, it has to be a two-way conversation. White America needs to be heard from, not just lectured to.

This time, the Silent Majority needs to have its convictions, grievances and demands heard. And among them are these:

First, America has been the best country on earth for black folks. It was here that 600,000 black people, brought from Africa in slave ships, grew into a community of 40 million, were introduced to Christian salvation, and reached the greatest levels of freedom and prosperity blacks have ever known.

Wright ought to go down on his knees and thank God he is an American.

....

We hear the grievances. Where is the gratitude?

----

I was stunned when he called the influx of Asians into the U.S., after racist quotas were eliminated in 1965, "the greatest invasion in [American] history."  (Methinks the Native Americans would disagree with that.)  I have to say tho that while his anti-Asian comments cut deep personally, this round of anti-black comments is just... I'm flabbergasted.

Is there not the slightest sense of shame when he refers to the forced immigration of Africans as SLAVES and then asks "Where is the gratitude?"

Mr. Buchanan, where is your conscience?

I've been thinking today, if I happened to find myself in a room with Pat, what I could say to him.  I've been wondering how I might stay in relationship with him instead of simply writing him off.  To be a UU means that even those who hate you still have worth and dignity.  

And I can believe that Pat Buchanan is simply ignorant.  Due to his upbringing, he hasn't had the opportunity to experience what it's really like for African Americans in this country.  So he can't understand the anger.

But that really only goes so far.  There is ignorance and there is willful ignorance.  It's one thing to not know and another to refuse to listen when someone is trying to tell you how it is. Buchanan calls Obama's speech "the same old con, the same old shakedown that black hustlers have been running..."  Is he talking about the same speech I heard?  The one where Obama went out of his way to recognize the legitimacy of white anger, and called on us - all of us - to rise above the hatred?  Obama recognizes the legitimacy of white anger, and Buchanan ignores it.  Obama articulates the source of black anger, and Buchanan calls it a "con/shakedown" and Obama a "hustler."

If I found myself in a room with Mr. Buchanan, it seems to me that whatever I tried to say he wouldn't listen.

Blue Gal over at Street Prophets is asking people to participate in blog against theocracy this Easter weekend, so that's what I had intended to do today. 

I've been thinking a lot about Jesus' death, especially for someone who isn't Christian. And it occurred to me that Jesus was a victim of theocracy. Bear in mind that this is coming from someone who doesn't believe that Jesus was sent to die for our sins. I see his crucifixion as a state-sanctioned murder of someone who preached a radically liberal message of inclusivity and threatened established authority, both religious and state. Although, if Jesus were merely a victim, he wouldn't mean much to me. The Romans executed thousands. It was the way that Jesus unflinchingly lived his values of radical love and inclusivity, in the face of overwhelming power, that makes him a "first amongst equals" - fully human, and also fully divine.

I digress.... Some may question the claim that 1st century Jerusalem was a theocracy. After all, the political power was Rome whereas the religious power was the Temple high priests. While Herod may have been installed by the Romans (Marc Anthony), the Temple priests surely were not. But Herod and the Priests had entered into a cozy deal with Rome. In exchange for some amount of autonomy (and ability to collect wealth), sacrifices were offered in the Temple on behalf of Rome and the Emperor twice a day. The net result was the perception that the God of the Jews endorsed the legitimacy of Roman power.

Thus, religious authoritarian structure was supported by the state and in turn supported the state. This mutually beneficial arrangement assured that no one would be looking out for the welfare of the people. Until Jesus. And as he threatened this unholy alliance, he had to be done away with.

One of the main purposes of the "Church" is to bear witness against the injustices of authority. This is what the Jewish prophets did, bearing witness against Egyptian pharaohs and even Jewish kings. No one was beyond accountability. But the "Church" cannot hold the State accountable if its livelihood is dependent upon the State.

This was one of the primary concerns of our Founding Fathers as they carefully crafted the system of checks and balances intended to keep tyrannies in check. Many people now, see the separation of church and state as ensuring "freedom from religion." They see religion as the tyrant that the 1st amendment protects them from. But the original intent of the wall of separation was "freedom of religion," protecting religion's ability to be an independent voice of conscience, against the State if need be. Either way you look at it, separation protects everyone.

In some ways, Good Friday was a day like any other day. Around noon time I made my way over to Silver Spring to have lunch with my friend, Kat. While it's been longer than we would have liked since our last lunch, this was not an unusual thing.

But as we sat in Panera catching up, we became aware of a ruckus outside. A mob of people were walking by the big glass windows, dressed in robes. Some male youth in Roman costumes with large, plastic, golden swords. Some others in plainer, earthen colored robes. I had to explain to Kat that they were re-enacting the Stations of the Cross. And the youth didn't seem to quite have it down, because while the Stations of the Cross is supposed to be a somber time in which to reflect upon the pain and humiliation that Jesus suffered leading up to his crucifixion, these boisterous kids in costumes were acting like it was a carnival. The contrast was quite amusing.

But as we continued to watch the crowd go by, the youth were replaced by older participants, and the mood grew much more somber. Kat remarked how you could literally see the atmosphere change. The sky seemed to darken.

The Stations of the Cross. Jesus' suffering for us.

Tonight I attended my church's annual Tenebrae service. Tenebrae means "shadows" in Latin, and the service consisted of readings from the Passion story leading up to Jesus' death. As the service progresses, the lights grow dimmer and dimmer. Finally, we shuffle up for communion (the only time its done at All Souls), and then out into the night in silence. Whether or not one believes that Jesus was God, and I do not, it is a powerful service. A time to reflect on pain, and fear, and betrayal, and the brokenness of our world.

I sorrowed as Bill read about Jesus alone in the garden, fearful, and not even his closest friends would stay awake to comfort him. I wept when Delabian read about Peter's betrayal, thinking of the times when I had not stood up when I should have. Jesus would likely have died no matter what, but his suffering would have been lessened had he not experienced betrayal and abandonment by his friends.

I have caused that kind of suffering myself, in many smaller ways. Surely I have sinned and need to be brought back into communion again. Tonight was the first time I ever thought of Good Friday as a time of atonement, like Yom Kippur, not for original sin, but for the sins of betrayal and abandonment.

The communion of which we partook should have been that opportunity for coming back into community. But I did not find it particularly meaningful. We went thru the motions of communion, coming out of the Christian tradition, but without an articulated UU theology which would have tied it to the experience of grief and remorse.

I do not believe that Jesus died to atone for my sins. We as UUs do not call the bread his flesh, nor the grape juice his blood. So what then does the communion represent? Maybe Easter will shed some light.

A few weeks back, I blogged about a realization that I had - that so many very different people with different expectations were projecting things on to Obama about race. And that eventually, when he has to answer to it, some people are going to feel disappointed and angry.

Honestly, I didn't think it was going to happen until after he was elected president. The fact that Obama is a long-time member of an "Unashamedly Black" church and the sermons of Rev. Jeremiah Wright are a matter of public record. So I was surprised that these things would all of the sudden reignite. After a couple of days of controversy, the candidate was forced to give a speech on race in America, and to defend his association with his minister.

What a tough place to be in. Time and time again, Obama has surprised me with his grace and intelligence, cutting right to the heart of the matter, ignoring the petty, and raising the conversation to a higher level. His "speech on race" was certainly no exception. But more than just eloquent, it finally removed all doubts for me about his substance. You see, even though I desperately wanted to believe Obama's hopeful message, ultimately, when the chips were down, I didn't know for sure that he could make the hard decisions.

It would have been easy for Obama to denounce Rev. Wright and go on. It would have quelled the fury in the white communities. And if some blacks were angered, it probably wouldn't have been enough to lose him the election. It would have been easy for him to give us an excuse to avoid really addressing race and racism, instead of the scapegoating we normally do - the sacrificial goats we offer up to avoid this painful subject. But he didn't do that. He came out and walked the hard thin edge of truth, the one that recognizes the legitimacy of anger but does not demonize anyone. He explained the source of Rev. Wright's anger and distrust, even as he denounced the ways in which they were expressed.

And in my favorite part of an amazing speech, he pointed to the complexity of the situation:

I can no more disown him than I can disown the black community. I can no more disown him than I can my white grandmother -- a woman who helped raise me, a woman who sacrificed again and again for me, a woman who loves me as much as she loves anything in this world, but a woman who once confessed her fear of black men who passed by her on the street, and who on more than one occasion has uttered racial or ethnic stereotypes that made me cringe. These people are a part of me. And they are a part of America, this country that I love.

Who among us does not have a racist relative whom we nonetheless love?

Obama refused to run away from the issue of race. He pointed to the economic and social disparities that still exist as a result of slavery, even as he called us to move on. We need not recite the injustices of the past while failing to address the injustices of the present. And then he called on us to rise above our fear and distrust, towards our common desires. Do not descend into accusations about who said what. "Not this time."

But I have asserted a firm conviction -- a conviction rooted in my faith in God and my faith in the American people -- that working together we can move beyond some of our old racial wounds, and that in fact we have no choice if we are to continue on the path of a more perfect union.

Awesomeness. Now, I truly believe. I believe that he will make the hard decisions when necessary. And I believe that he is the one, uniquely situated in our times to lead us to a more perfect union. Not a savior, mind you, but a true prophet.