Our Ongoing Emancipation from Violence
Last week, we witnessed local people of Uvalde, Texas, decorating the graves of 10 and 11 year olds and their teachers.
And so, this Memorial day, we consecrate those who we’ve martyred in our war with ourselves. Those children of Uvalde and the elders and mid-lifers of Buffalo who we as a society have deemed worthy of sacrifice, because changing who we are and how we live together in this country is more sacrifice than we are willing to make.
As a country are not currently willing to renounce our white supremacy and racism, toxic masculinity and patriarchy, heterosexism, transphobia, ableism, and xenophobia—or prejudice against people of other countries. Nor are we currently willing to give up our addiction to guns, capitalism, militarism, nationalism, greed, selfishness, fear, and hatred. We are not currently willing to take care of each other's physical, mental, or emotional health. We are at war with ourselves.
And it’s near time for us to plan a funeral for our country’s social health, or the ways in which people create healthy and positive relationships with one another.
This is our country as it is currently, but it is not how our country could or should be.
We are suffering from complex and systemic problems, some of which I’ve named above.
When it comes to gun violence, we often focus on the tools, the guns. And yes, legislation is needed to limit access to increasingly deadly weapons. And also, we need to identify and address root causes. One root cause is our country’s social health, as this is some of the most important generational work we have ahead of us as a country and as the Church.
Jesus’ Gospel message is solely concerned with our social health, or loving relationships. It was such a powerful, countercultural, and dangerous message to those in power that they killed Jesus for building a movement that centered loving relationships. Yet, it is loving relationships that are the foundation for any healthy family, community, and society.
Why are healthy, loving relationships such a threat? Because a system based on healthy, loving relationships sabotages the power structures of the world as it is by preventing and intercepting violence, prohibiting systemic poverty, extinguishing all manner of “-isms” and “othering,” and surrendering us to interdependence while smothering out individualism and greed.
What is the cost of our disregard for healthy, loving relationships? A child lost, abandoned, and abused by their community will destroy it in an attempt to find the acceptance, connection, and the care they need.
To illustrate, this past week, someone posted a question to the subreddit (discussion board) “AskMen,” “Why is such a large segment of US mass shooters young men?”
Another Redittor (discussion board user), named VeridianLuna offered this insightful response:
There is a perfect storm of conditions that lead to these shootings, I think.
Isolation.
Social Alienation.
The only place to vent or find comfort is in radical communities.
Feeling powerless day to day.
Anger towards those around you.
Distrust of the systems you operate in or in the social support systems that you should be able to rely on.
Feeling things will never get better.
Lack of emotional awareness or proper emotional outlets.
When I was around my second year in highschool I was headed down this road. I hated my parents, hated other people, and hated my life. I didn't have anyone I trusted nor did I feel that there was anything I could do. I looked into the future and only saw more agony, isolation, and anxiety. I felt constantly looked down upon by those around me and constructed all sorts of fantasies about why people didn't like me. Of course I have grown up and realized that I had severe social anxiety and the reason I had no friends was because I was a quiet, anxious, and stressed person.
I spent a lot of my time on 4chan—an online image sharing and discussion board. I was never racist or politically radical in one direction, but I had a strong resentment for all of humanity. I felt like the world was fucked and the systems we had created were failed. I would stay up all night long watching gore to numb myself to what I felt. It took years to undo the damage I did to myself by doing so, and I think this in some way still affects me today.
It is incredibly fucked up to say, but the fantasy of shooting up a school was cathartic in this state of mind. It was the ultimate fuck you to those who I placed so much blame on for years and years. It would show everyone how I feel and get back at everyone for looking down on me. I thought I would never live a meaningful life, so why not end it all with a spectacle? Of course it was always a fantasy and I never seriously considered being violent. When it got to that point I generally turned inward instead of outwards (suicidal thoughts and self-harm)
The largest thing that helped to change my outlook was getting friends. Once I had people I related to, could rely on, and was able to vent to, my thinking changed 180. I realized that people have value and despite the suck of the world there are meaningful experiences to have that we should work toward.
I expect that many of us can connect with the emotions and social contexts described by VeridianLuna, particularly after the past several years. We are all suffering from a lack of loving relationship, and some of us are suffering so much that violence seems like the only option whether that is self-harming or other-harming violence.
It is not that we don’t know what to do to prevent mass casualty violence. I believe it is more that out of our fear, we dehumanize violent actors to distance ourselves from deeply human pain. Fear that we might also someday uncontrollably surrender to our own deep pain and grief. And so, we imagine fire breathing dragons amongst us, who set out to wreak havoc and death without cause. But we must always ask, “why?” and be willing to listen and face the consequences of seeing ourselves as part of the problem, rather than the innocent we imagine ourselves to be.
None of us are innocent, we all contribute to our society. What matters is that we become self-aware of our contributions, and transform them. This is also why Jesus was killed, because he helped people become self aware of their participation in unloving, violent relationships within themselves and with others. I don’t believe that anyone appreciates seeing that side of themselves, even if it is necessary. Most of us want to imagine that we are the “good” ones.
What does it mean that we are all part of the violence perpetrated in our country?
It means that we are all responsible for transformation. It isn’t always someone else’s fault. Yes, some of us are in positions of power to take certain actions, and also, all of us are in relationships that desperately need health and love.
How fortunate then, that we have a guide in Jesus, and a succinct reminder from Romans 12:9-21, The Marks of the True Christian:
Let love be genuine; hate what is evil; hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing integrity.
Do not lag in determination; be ardent in spirit; serve God.
Rejoice in hope; be patient in affliction; persevere in prayer.
Contribute to the needs of the saints; pursue hospitality to strangers.
Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them.
Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep.
Live in harmony with one another; do not be arrogant, but give yourself to humble taks; do not claim to be wiser than you are.
Do not repay anyone evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all.
If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.
Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave room for the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is mine; I will repay, says God.”
Instead, “if your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink, for by doing this you will heap burning coals on their heads.”
Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. I don’t have all the answers for all that is wrong, all the pain and trauma, grief, and helplessness we feel. But I’m hoping that together we can commit to next steps, something to move us toward co-creating hope in an otherwise hopeless situation.
So, let us share with one another and our God,
As Christians (or Christian adjacent depending on your spiritual life), and as a church (local and global), what are we called to do right now?
How will we live out our faith in order to transform the violence and pain of our society?
We’ve got to pray together by taking action. We’ve got to inspire one another and ourselves by envisioning the good that we can do to overcome evil. Because this cannot continue. We cannot continue as we have been. We have the power of God residing within us, and together we have the power to co-create a healthier and more loving world.
In Partnership,
Rev. Dr. Jenny Whitcher, Ph.D.
Minister of Prophetic Formation
jenny@juniperformation.org
call/text: 720-298-2274
The Consecration of Martyrs and Emancipation
Some of the thousands of Black children who led the first Decoration Day in 186, in Charleston, SC.
I misspoke when I preached on Sunday at Sixth Avenue UCC, by stating that the first Memorial Day, formerly “Decoration Day,” was in 1868. Later that day, I learned from the Zinn Education Project that Memorial Day started in 1865, led by former slaves as a consecration of martyrs and emancipation from a slaveholders’ republic. This is an example of why Critical Race Theory (CRT) is so important to truth telling.
Here is an excerpt from the article by David W. Blight, so that we can remember more truthfully together:
After a long siege, a prolonged bombardment for months from all around the harbor, and numerous fires, the beautiful port city of Charleston, South Carolina, where the [U.S. Civil] war had begun in April, 1861, lay in ruin by the spring of 1865. The city was largely abandoned by white residents by late February. Among the first troops to enter and march up Meeting Street singing liberation songs was the Twenty First U.S. Colored Infantry; their commander accepted the formal surrender of the city.
Thousands of black Charlestonians, most former slaves, remained in the city and conducted a series of commemorations to declare their sense of the meaning of the war. The largest of these events, and unknown until some extraordinary luck in my recent research, took place on May 1, 1865. During the final year of the war, the Confederates had converted the planters’ horse track, the Washington Race Course and Jockey Club, into an outdoor prison. Union soldiers were kept in horrible conditions in the interior of the track; at least 257 died of exposure and disease and were hastily buried in a mass grave behind the grandstand. Some twenty-eight black workmen went to the site, re-buried the Union dead properly, and built a high fence around the cemetery. They whitewashed the fence and built an archway over an entrance on which they inscribed the words, “Martyrs of the Race Course.”
Then, black Charlestonians in cooperation with white missionaries and teachers, staged an unforgettable parade of 10,000 people on the slaveholders’ race course. The symbolic power of the low-country planter aristocracy’s horse track (where they had displayed their wealth, leisure, and influence) was not lost on the freedpeople. A New York Tribune correspondent witnessed the event, describing “a procession of friends and mourners as South Carolina and the United States never saw before.”
At 9 a.m. on May 1, the procession stepped off led by three thousand black schoolchildren carrying arm loads of roses and singing “John Brown’s Body.” The children were followed by several hundred black women with baskets of flowers, wreaths and crosses. Then came black men marching in cadence, followed by contingents of Union infantry and other black and white citizens. As many as possible gathering in the cemetery enclosure; a childrens’ choir sang “We’ll Rally around the Flag,” the “Star-Spangled Banner,” and several spirituals before several black ministers read from scripture. No record survives of which biblical passages rung out in the warm spring air, but the spirit of Leviticus 25 was surely present at those burial rites: “for it is the jubilee; it shall be holy unto you. . . . in the year of this jubilee he shall return every man unto his own possession.”
Following the solemn dedication the crowd dispersed into the infield and did what many of us do on Memorial Day: they enjoyed picnics, listened to speeches, and watched soldiers drill. Among the full brigade of Union infantry participating was the famous 54th Massachusetts and the 34th and 104th U.S. Colored Troops, who performed a special double-columned march around the gravesite. The war was over, and Decoration Day had been founded by African Americans in a ritual of remembrance and consecration. The war, they had boldly announced, had been all about the triumph of their emancipation over a slaveholders’ republic, and not about state rights, defense of home, nor merely soldiers’ valor and sacrifice. (2011. David W. Blight, “The First Decoration Day”)
