Updates

Racial Justice reflection series – Chapter 5 “…Speaking Truth to – and from – Two Traditions”

“The will to persevere stems from a core conviction that I am called to the Catholic community because that community needs me and my voice if it is to be “catholic” in reality and not simply in rhetoric.” p.167

In Chapter 5, Fr. Massingale shares his particular experience both as a Black American and a Black Catholic. He explains how his experience as a member of this “community-in-struggle”, as he terms the Black American community, has impacted his vocation as a Catholic theologian. The difficulties that Black Catholics face as a marginalized group not just in American society but within the Catholic Church itself are layed out. “We are faithful, but alienated; faithful, but excluded; faithful, but hurt; faithful, but our culture is not welcome.” p.170 And the responsibility of the Black theologian to “speak the truth about their tears and give voice to their pain” is a sacred trust that Fr. Massingale feels that he has been given.

I looked up the term “catholic”, and found: universal; all-embracing; inclusive, inviting; having broad interests or wide sympathies. Is that the type of Church that we experience? More importantly, is that the Church that those who feel excluded from our secular culture experience? Is it reality or simply rhetoric?

When I first came to St. Mary 20+ years ago, I was drawn in by the dynamic community that I met here. I felt welcomed and loved. I found that I could use my gifts in service to the community. I still love this community deeply but through interactions with Catholics of Color and through reading books and articles by Black authors, I have begun to look more critically at our Church which excludes, many times unconsciously, our Black Catholic sisters and brothers. When I look around St. Mary, unfortunately, I do not see many expressions of the Black Catholic contributions to our faith. I do not see visual representations in the stain glass windows, nativity sets or statues. I do not see Black faces in the pictures on bulletins or flyers. Although I hear hymns about inclusivity and welcoming, I do not hear Black songs and spirituals very often, if at all, during our liturgies. At St. Mary, sometimes I do hear prayers and homilies mentioning marginalized communities but rarely does the sin of racism seem to be an urgent topic of concern in our community as a whole. I know that this is not purposeful exclusion but it comes from a lack of awareness, a lack of consciousness which still causes pain and alienation.

As white Catholics, Fr. Massingale’s book is a wake up call. A call to listen with an open heart and mind without defensiveness. A call to look beyond our white normative Catholic experience, and to see if what we say, do and present as Catholic is truly “universal” or just rhetoric. My hope in reading and discussing this book as a parish is that we can begin this transformation from rhetoric to reality here at St. Mary. What might each of us do to help Black Catholics and other marginalized members of our Church to feel less alienated, excluded, hurt and not welcome? Put in the positive, what might we do to help all God’s children feel included and welcome here?

Lisa Hirsch 

Lisa is a resident parishioner and has been involved with social justice ministry at St. Mary for 20+ years. She and her husband are also Eucharistic Ministers and lead the Flint Family Service Trip. They have 3 children and enjoy hiking, camping and traveling together.

Racial Justice reflection series – Epilogue

As a nation, we are still plagued with wary coexistence, latent suspicions, subtle exclusions, covert tensions, and barely concealed resentments- all rooted in an often unacknowledged but entrenched network of racial privilege and dominance. The next frontier of racial justice is the task of dismantling the edifice of white privilege, which demands confronting and naming the “non-rational” set of meanings and values- the white cultural identity and symbol system-that sustains it. (Massingale, p. 176)

Bryan Massingale shows throughout his prophetic book that getting to the promise land of racial justice will not be easy. We in White America live in a cloud of denial oblivious to our privilege. Since the force of law dismantled the blatant racist symbols of the Jim Crow era, we naively delude ourselves in believing that we live now in a post-racial society free from the insidious snares of overt racism and discrimination. There may still be racism but it is merely the personal failings of the unrepentant bigot rather than woven tightly into the fabric of white privilege and dominance keeping us comfortable and complicit. To remain relevant, Massingale believes the Church must confront this reality of white privilege. (Massingale, p. 179). We must strive for integration and not just desegregation for it is there in acceptance not tolerance that the Kingdom of God resides. He shares the experience of his home parish in Milwaukee as an example of the in-breaking of the Kingdom, of what Church can and should be. His description of All Saints Catholic Church reminds me very much of my parish in Washington, D.C.

Over the Christmas break, my family had the blessing of coming home to St. Martin Catholic Church, a racially mixed, predominately African-American parish with an amazing Gospel choir. On New Year’s Day, we came to worship and though we have been gone for more than 10 years, we were instantly recognized and welcomed home. Stephanie, the acolyte, beamed and caught us up on her family. Father Mike asked if we were back or just visiting. We were asked, “You were lectors, right? Would you do the second reading?”, and so I had the privilege of proclaiming the Word of God. The irony of God is sweet and wonderful; I stood before the people I love and spoke Paul’s words to the Colossians, words I had heard on my wedding day. The deacon and the congregation responded with shouts of “Amen”.

During the homily, Fr. Mike called up families in all there diversity so we could pray our needs and receive a blessing. The pews emptied into the aisle during the Sign of Peace and the choir sang lifting us to God. This was Church! This was a glimpse of the Kingdom, and we left that day empowered.

How then can St. Mary’s be where we “practice for the Kingdom”? It can be if we, white parishioners, die to our privilege and dominance. It can be when we are willing to pray and sing and do Church in an idiom that is not “white”. It can be if we say to those whose first or only language is Spanish, “You are not the Spanish speaking community at St. Mary’s; you are the St. Mary’s community”. It can be if we invite people of color into positions of leadership and influence. It can be when we are voices of solidarity with students of color. It can be when all of us, from the pulpit to the pews, boldly proclaim the just word and call out systems of racial oppression and purveyors of bigotry and hatred whether in our government or in our Church. It can be if we trust in God who desires this new life for us.

At St. Martin’s, we would often close our liturgies by singing the gospel hymn “One More Time” One more time! One more time! God has allowed us to come together . . . pray together . . . sing together . . . shout together one more time. God will allow us to come together as a true intercultural community one more time. God will allow us to pray together for racial healing and forgiveness one more time. God will allow us to sing together the beauty of our diversity one more time. God will allow us to shout together for racial justice one more time. God will allow us to be Church!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=610x5zZVDSo

Postscript: As I was writing this reflection, I felt that I might be perpetuating another example of white dominance. Every writer of this blog series has been white showing once again that only what we say matters. However, I came to realize that the audience for this blog series was not parishioners of color, though I hope they read the book too. No, we were writing for white people. White people need to speak to other white people about racism and privilege if we hope to make progress towards the Kingdom. We need to listen more to people of color and make spaces where all feel included but it is not the obligation of Black and Brown people to enlighten us and pull us from our ignorance. Thank you for reading our reflections. May we continue to trust in God to lead us to the promise land of racial justice.

Bill Alt

Racial Justice reflection series – Chapter 4 “A Dream Deferred”

Massingale quoting Vaclav Havel:

“[Hope is] a state of mind, not a state of the world. Either we have hope within us or we don’t; it is a dimension of the soul, and it’s not essentially dependent on some particular observation of the world or estimate of the situation…It is an orientation of the spirit, an orientation of the heart. It transcends the world that is immediately experienced, and is anchored somewhere beyond its horizons…Hope, in this deep and powerful sense, is not the same as joy that things are going well, or willingness to invest in enterprises that are obviously headed for early success, but, rather, an ability to work for something because it is good, not just because it stands a chance to succeed…Hope is definitely not the same thing as optimism. It is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out,” (147).

This came at just the right time for me, and maybe it will for you too.

As the St. Mary staff person working with our Faith Doing Justice ministry, it would be easy to look at this past semester and feel discouraged. Heck, it would be easy as anyone to look at what is happening in the world, on campus, in the Catholic Church even, and feel discouraged.

Let’s just take UofM’s campus as the example for a moment. Anti-Latino messages painted on the Rock. Racial slurs written on students’ doors in the dorms. Racial slurs graffitied on Ann Arbor area buildings. UofM administration allowing for a leader of white supremacy groups to speak on campus. It’s a lot.

When I get discouraged about how things are going, the tendency can be to become indifferent. I have felt indifferent about race at times this semester. That’s why this message of hope and vision that Fr. Bryan is bringing to us is HUGE!

When I remain in hope, I find that it becomes easier to respond with love, rather than anger, disgust, judgment, or indifference. When I remain in hope, I find myself being more generous and being more courageous in speaking up about racial injustice.

Now, imagine…what would we be able to create if we all had just a little more hope? Could we create that “Beloved Community” that King wrote of and Massingale references?

I think that’s what Jesus wants us to be pondering and exploring, particularly right now during Advent. This is a time of exceptional hope.

But sometimes there is another temptation for myself and for other white people getting in the way of this hope. When we realize our contributions to perpetuating racism (whether that’s directly as an individual or indirectly as part of an institution or system of oppression), there is the desire to want to do something, anything, to prove (mostly to ourself) that I didn’t mean to contribute to it or that I am a good person who is not racist.

And I call it a “temptation” because I think that mode of thinking is something to avoid. It’s a white person’s way of wanting to get “off the hook”, to have a quick fix. But the imbalance of power as a result of race isn’t an issue that has a quick fix; we are always “on the hook.”

Besides, most of the time, I, as white person, don’t know what to do. Even after having taken classes on intergroup dialogue, social structures, and other community activism-based classes, there are times I still don’t know what to do.

And when we don’t know what to do about race, what usually happens? We do nothing.

What I’m trying to say here is: I want to avoid the temptation of having to prove that I’m not racist. At the same time, I also want to avoid becoming indifferent and not doing anything to proclaim anti-racism and a movement towards a positive, inspiring vision, like the “Beloved Community.”

If white people are set on doing something but not knowing what, the one thing I think of doing before anything else is to buy into the vision of the “Beloved Community” and to have hope.

As Massingale writes, “No one gives one’s life for the sake of an abstract concept. No one risks humiliation, ostracization, vilification, persecution, and other forms of opposition for an intellectual idea or sterile definition.”

So if you’ve been feeling discouraged lately, know that we have hope and that that hope is not based on worldly happenings, but on faith. Faith in a heavenly vision of a “Beloved Community”, in which all are truly welcome, social differences are celebrated, and we live this out daily.

How do you see yourself living out this hopeful vision of the “Beloved Community”?

Jake Derry

Jake is a recent University of Michigan graduate and the Campus Ministry Associate at St. Mary, working with the Faith Doing Justice ministry. He enjoys writing, being outside, playing sports, and being creative and entrepreneurial.