Blog Posts
The "Perfect" Christmas Gift?
Perfectionists have a terrible time buying gifts. At least this one does. I have some truly awesome people in my life – dear family, friends old and new – and the love I feel for them is so deep and wide that sometimes I cry tears of gratitude for them. Seriously.
When Christmas comes around, my desire is to take all that love and gratitude, all that admiration and affection, and find the one perfect gift for them that will convey the entire weight of that emotion. I want to wrap it up and present it to them as a total representation of my utter devotion. It should be something that makes them grin from ear to ear and declare from the newly-warmed cockles of their heart, “Wow! This is perfect! You really do love me, don’t you?” You see my problem, right?
So I try to start my shopping early in the season. But that just allows me more time for indecision, second-guessing, and angst. I wander the aisles or the websites for hours, asking myself, “Is this good enough?” “Would this be better?” I lie awake at night, wondering, “Red or blue? Which would she like better?” Taking a deep breath, I finally make a decision and a purchase. Gift receipt firmly in hand, I walk away thinking, “Maybe I should have bought the other one.”
Some people make Christmas lists. This wasn’t part of my childhood. I was raised by serious and practical people. We weren’t encouraged to ask for specific gifts. The giver was completely in charge of the gift, not the receiver. If they got it wrong and you were disappointed, you smiled and said thanks and hoped for something better next year.
Christmas lists take the pressure off gift-buying, that’s true. Shopping off a list is much like choosing food off a restaurant menu. People get exactly what they want, no more, no less. There’s no having to hide disappointment behind a fake smile, no hassle of return lines, no worries about if it will fit and be the right color. Also, none of that occasional hurt that comes when someone who should have known better gives you something thoroughly unlikable.
But lists take the pleasure out of gift buying as well. You lose the experience of bringing that person to mind and imagining what might please them, the excitement of anticipating the opening and (potential) delight. You know, the part that makes it fun!
Here’s the thing. All good gift-giving is rooted in love. The kind of love that comes from having made time enough and paid attention enough to really know the other. Not just in their role - husband, child, friend - but as a separate person, with desires and preferences of their own. When you’ve dedicated time, money and energy to knowing and pleasing them, and when you get it right, wow! It’s not just the object, it’s the recipient’s joy in being known and loved. That’s the best kind of gift!
But oh my friends, we love so imperfectly. Our attention to our loved ones is fleeting and often distracted; our seeing is clouded by our own egos and biases. We’re so quick to presume we know someone, and we don’t, really. We make judgements, and we judge wrongly. “Who are you, really? What would make you happy?” These questions take patience and humility to answer. It’s hard work. It’s time consuming and self-sacrificial. And that’s before we even begin the work of shopping and find out that generosity is harder than it looks.
We love imperfectly, so we give each other imperfect gifts. Oh, once in a while we get it right. Most of the time we come pretty close. And God willing, we’ll have another chance at it next year. It’s important that we give and receive gifts with an abundance of grace. Of course, any relationship that lives or dies based on right gift-giving isn’t worth the effort anyway. I don’t remember what my husband got me last year, or most of the forty-two Christmases we’ve shared. But I’ve never, in all those years, doubted his love and commitment to me, which he shows in thousands of non-gifting-buying ways.
Truth is, any and all human gifts are pale shadows of the one great gift we celebrate every year at this time. The One God who in the beginning spoke the world into being, who created us in our mother’s wombs, who is intimate and infinite, transcendent and tender, the source and end of all life – that God – is the ultimate gift-giver.
God listens, watches, knows our darkest secrets, and our highest hopes, attending to us as beloved children – all day, every day, our whole lives long. God desires what is best for us and longs for our pleasure. God’s generosity knows no bounds. In God, we are completely known and unconditionally loved, just as we long to be.
And so we come to Christmas again, not just to give gifts, not just to stumble and fret over our own gift-buying challenges, but to celebrate once more the very best gift: The great God of all creation wrapped Godself up in frail human skin and gave us Godself. The perfect gift. Once and for all.
Susan Weaver
Susan Weaver is a retired ELCA pastor, a spiritual director, a former parent educator and teacher. She is grandma to two beloved little girls and loves to read, learn and think out loud with others. She blogs occasionally at pastorgrandma.com
Church Anew is dedicated to igniting faithful imagination and sustaining inspired innovation by offering transformative learning opportunities for church leaders and faithful people.
As an ecumenical and inclusive ministry of St. Andrew Lutheran Church, the content of each Church Anew blog represents the voice of the individual writer and does not necessarily reflect the position of Church Anew or St. Andrew Lutheran Church on any specific topic.
Policing and the Church: an Interview with Pastor Brian Herron
In part three of Church Anew’s series on policing and the church, we interview Pastor Brian Herron of Zion Baptist Church on policing in Minneapolis, MN. Read part one and part two of our series.
What church and neighborhood do you serve in Minneapolis? How long have you served there?
I am pastor of Zion Baptist Church on the North Side of Minneapolis, what we call the Near North, but Zion serves the city as a whole along with the surrounding suburbs. God also has called me to a broader ministry beyond our city, sometimes to other states, our nation and God’s world. I became a pastor at Zion 14 years ago this year. My father pastored this church for 37 years before me. Honestly I was the most unlikely successor to him when I became pastor. God gave me something very different than the traditional Baptist church we had previously been. Over time there have been shifts and moves as God shapes and brings new purpose to each day. Our church has moved from what I would call a traditional religiosity to a real spiritual place of relationship with God and the transformation that follows.
Describe the relationship between the people of Minneapolis and the police prior to the death of Mr. George Floyd.
There has always been tension particularly in the African American community. These tensions between police and community run deep and they go far back. When I came up here as a teenager, I experienced the Minneapolis police department as one of the most brutal in the state toward African Americans. Things have somewhat improved over time, however immediately prior to the killing of Mr. George Floyd, there were still great tensions. At the same time, there also was great hope because of the new police chief. We had hope we were going to see some real change in policing and would not experience police officers just as an occupational force in the community. Instead they would be there to truly protect and serve the community and work with its residents. We believed that over time, we would dispel the “us against them” mentality the police culture seemed to have. We were looking for a cultural shift. A cultural transformation.
What is the impact of the killing of George Floyd on the city of Minneapolis? Your church community? How has it changed or shaped your ministry?
The impact has been great and it is still being felt. People are in deep trauma and grief. Others have taken to activism. We have begun to see reactive political responses rather than thoughtful policy making that would really help to bring about the kind of transformation we are looking for. On the positive side, some have mobilized and created alliances and conversations that have not taken place before. On the negative side, we have elected officials that are reactionary rather than thoughtful and, in some ways, they have exasperated the problem. The killing of Mr. George Floyd has brought the chief of police out to the community in a very meaningful and real way where he has been sitting with the community members in their pain and in his own pain. While this has been helpful, I believe there is a very deep chasm and wound that needs to be healed.
The interesting thing is we in the African American community are used to being on the outside. We also are used to being engaged, involved, and active. This situation has created conversations within our community to strengthen our faith and shore up our relationship with God to not succumb to the feelings of anger and despair but to channel this anger and allow God to use the anger and do something very positive and meaningful that can be life giving for our community. The killing of George Floyd calls upon us to ask, “Do we really believe what we believe and if we do how do we stand on the Word of God in the midst of all that is going on?”
Finally it has made me seek God more. This tragedy actually has caused me, in some respects, to withdraw from a lot of activity and really seek God to make sure I am where God wants me to be and doing what God wants me to do in the way God wants me to do it. It has impacted me personally because I have lived through much of this many times before in my life. Sometimes when I think things seem to be getting better we seem to take steps backwards. It is more important for me now to spend time with God and reading the Scriptures but mostly just praying and being still. I have learned the importance of being still and being present so I can not only hear instructions and know what to do, but I am strengthened and fortified for the battle I have been called to be engaged in.
Why do you think people are calling for the defunding of the police? Is defunding the most effective way to reform the police? If not, what other options would you suggest?
The defunding movement is not a new movement. It started some years ago. New Jersey was one of the states that tried it. In my opinion, what happened was they never ended up getting rid of their police department. Defunding the police may sound good as a political rallying cry but when you ask people exactly what it means, you don’t get much of an answer because most folks don’t know what that looks like. If you can’t describe it and if you can’t tell people what defunding looks like, it should not be something you expose or say until you understand what it means. Some may say, “Let’s take money away from the police department, put the resources into the community and help it to be better so eventually we won’t need a police department.” In my view, this is a very unrealistic approach because I believe there is a great need for a police department.
At the same time, we do need to transform policing by reevaluating and rethinking how we do policing. Granted there are calls police respond to that they shouldn’t have to address. Someone else could respond. In Minneapolis there has been a mechanism in the past called Community Crime Prevention. These are civilians who work with a police officer to organize block clubs and work on issues on each neighborhood. I myself have been trained as a crime prevention specialist. The Community Crime Prevention program dealt with a lot of the issues patrol officers didn’t need to spend their time on.
Another reason I don’t agree with defunding the police in Minneapolis is I believe we have a police chief who wants the same police reform we are asking for in the African American community. The question now is how we work with him and how we transform and change the culture so all police are an extension of our community for everyone’s safety.
What is at stake for you and your community in discussions of police reform, dismantling, or defunding the police? Our public discourse sometime positions these terms against one another. How might you offer some nuance to the difference between them?
In my opinion, you don’t need to take money from the police department to address the disparities and things that are not moving our community forward. You just have to hold the governmental bodies who are responsible accountable. The county, city, state, and federal electives all need to come together to develop a strategy in addressing the disparities in a systematic and purposeful way.
In Minneapolis, this means sitting with the police chief and truly helping and supporting him in all of the changes he wants to make that would be transformative for policing and good for the officers, recognizing that not all police are bad. There are many officers doing their jobs right every day. Most officers have never fired their weapons. We need to speak the truth and the facts about police activity rather than what we think we know. We can speak about our experience but we also have to talk about what is true and what is not true. Many of the people who are calling for defunding really have no idea what the police do. Truth be told I personally believe everyone in our police department and the folks on the street know who the bad officers are. Now is the time to figure out how we build out and development meaningful relationships between the entire community and police so we are working together and not at odds with each other.
How would you define an honorable police officer? A dishonorable police officer? What path forward would lift up law enforcement’s honorable contributions to society while naming appropriately the dishonorable contributions?
For too long we have not made public the good things honorable officers do every day. We don’t make public how they didn’t tow a car or issue a citation because of an expired registration but gave someone a ride to work and said, “Use your next paycheck to take care of your registration.” We don’t hear stories of police officers who bought groceries for someone they encountered who was hungry. Such stories are more prevalent than people know. How do we lift up these truths about police so there is a balanced view? When all truths are not lifted up about others, there is a skewed view of people. As African Americans, we also have been viewed through a singularly false lens. Some police officers view us a certain way. As the Reverend Traci Blackmon has said, “If the color of my skin is the weapon that you see, how will I ever be unarmed?” In the same way, we in our community cannot do that to another group of people, such as the police, and conclude they all are alike.
How do we hold up the stories of police officers who do their jobs well every day? And then how do we call out and work through the actions of those officers who are misusing and abusing their power and who show a great prejudice toward certain people?
While there is not an easy answer, I believe there is a way we can start talking about the police in a positive way and demand discipline and restraint. Often police are doing what they have been trained to do. If you want them to do something differently, the training has to be different. If they are going to de- escalate a situation rather than respond to escalation with escalation, they need to be trained and the importance of such training must be emphasized.
What is the role of your church and others in North Minneapolis to help build just, equitable, and trusting neighborhoods?
It has been the role of every church and ministry of the Gospel from the beginning of time to create just, equitable and trusting communities. The social implications of the church should be to transform social systems as well as individuals and all people. Evangelism and discipleship go hand and hand. We, in the church, cannot do one without the other. You should begin to see some type of social transformation as people’s lives change. The community ought to be changing. For this change to happen, the church must open its doors and allow the community to come in. The congregation and its members need to go outside of the building and participate in the community, looking for the gaps. When God is leading you to do something that will be beneficial, it almost always will fill a void. The church holds a responsibility to trust God and move forward believing that when God ordains this work. God also will provide the provisions, people and resources to make it happen.
All of this means more than just being a good neighbor. The church needs to be a contributor to the welfare and the good of the community. One of the impacts of Jesus’ ministry was his ability to meet the needs of the people. He led with love, he cared about people and he met needs. Then it was up to each person who met Jesus what they did with the gifts he gave to them. Our job is to introduce people to this Jesus, not just through our words but our actions that demonstrate his love and care for them to inspire them to care for others.
What is the role of the churches and pastors across the entire city of Minneapolis and its many suburbs? What would you have other congregations and church leaders do?
At this time, I see congregations and church leaders attempting to come together and working with one another in a new way. I believe God is starting a new thing that could really turn into something purposeful if we stay faithful to God and to the mission. Honestly right now for me, prayer is where the shared work begins. Recently I started praying with a white pastor on a weekly basis – just the two of us. Soon after, people from our congregations came along side of us and every Monday at noon we just pray. Then a third church has joined us. Our African American church and two white churches all praying together and seeking God. Now the pastors have decided we need to come together and get to know each other. One of the most powerful ways the church can come together and have impact is by churches developing relationships with God and one another.
This is a different approach than some of my past experiences with some suburban white congregations that come in offering their resources without relationships. Their missionarial attitude becomes a power dynamic. Don’t last because of a power dynamic. It is not mutual relationship where both churches offer to one another the gifts we have. I prefer to have a relationship first and see what God is asking us to do together. If we are really serious about congregations coming together and white churches helping black churches, the first thing is building a relationship where we trust each other, where we seek God together and then we wait for God to tell us what God wants us to co-create together.
Is there anything else you’d like to add?
We all must be prayerful in this time and really listen for God’s direction. Then we need to ask God for the boldness to be obedient in what God is asking us to do. God always has a way if we listen first and then act together.
Pastor Brian Herron
Brian Herron is Senior Pastor at Zion Baptist Church in Minneapolis, MN.
Church Anew is dedicated to igniting faithful imagination and sustaining inspired innovation by offering transformative learning opportunities for church leaders and faithful people.
As an ecumenical and inclusive ministry of St. Andrew Lutheran Church, the content of each Church Anew blog represents the voice of the individual writer and does not necessarily reflect the position of Church Anew or St. Andrew Lutheran Church on any specific topic.
Policing and the Church: an Interview with an Officer
In part two of Church Anew’s series on policing and the church, we interview a police officer serving a community near Minneapolis on the intersections of his job, faith, and current events. Read part one of our series here.
Why did you become a police officer?
Growing up in the late ‘60s and ‘70s in a mid-size community, I was a part of a family that had a strong sense of service. My father was a college professor and a veteran of the Korean War. My grandfathers both served in WWI. They all were committed to making their country better and helping others through involvement in the community. This had a tremendous impact on my life and choices. Also when I was a young person, I loved watching TV shows on policing, such as Adam 12 and Columbo. I liked the activity and action of policing, helping others and holding people accountable. Even as a child, I had a strong sense of right and wrong.
How does your faith influence your work as a police officer?
My grandfather was a minister as was his father and his father before him. I grew up in the church and have been an active member my entire life. In policing, I try to apply what I have learned from my faith over the years, for example how I interact with people, the decisions I have to make, how I carry myself, how I want others to see me and how hard I work. My faith is an important part of my life.
Christians often talk about vocations as callings from God. Do you see your work as a calling from God? How so?
Yes, as I think about it, I do see my work as a calling. I have been blessed with a strong family that had a moral compass and was involved in community service. Many of the gifts God has given me that led to policing came through what I learned in my family: my heart for and desire to help others, my courage, the healthy body I have which is important in law enforcement. Everything that is a part of “my wheelhouse,” all these things that work together and fit for me in serving as a police officer are gifts from God. Over the years, I have fine-tuned these gifts and built upon them. I appreciate what I have been given and want to use these gifts for better. I do not want to squander them.
One of the things police sometimes say is they see people on their worst or hardest days. How do you live out your calling in serving the community and helping others during these difficult moments?
I came into law enforcement at age 22. Looking back, I think I had some strengths and a desire to help others and do the best I could. But honestly at 22, I didn’t have a lot of life experience. I have learned a lot over time with the experiences I’ve had in policing. This has caused me to do some honest introspection about what I am good at and not good at. I’ve become better at listening, understanding, being patient, bringing wisdom to difficult situations, and showing self-control.
Many police departments across the country have condemned the killing of Mr. George Floyd, both in public statements and personal conversations. How has the death of George Floyd impacted your daily work and life as a police officer since May?
Initially, our immediate focus as police officers was supporting our community in a time of unrest. We adjusted our schedules and put more officers on the street to be proactive in serving and protecting those who depend upon us. After the first few days when things calmed down, there were more peaceful protests and gatherings addressing what happened to George Floyd.
The initial turn of events made it hard for officers, both seeing the death of George Floyd and the grief of his family but also what happened to long-time businesses being burned down in Minneapolis, for instance, and the struggles these businesses’ owners were facing.
Since May, there has been a lot of discussions between officers and the citizens of our city. We have engaged in conversations about what happened to George Floyd. There has been pushback from some in our community about police brutality. There also has been support from our citizens. Some brought in food for us and said, “We are with you.”
As a police department, we’ve spent time discussing the future. The death of George Floyd has been very significant. We ask ourselves, “What does this mean for us?” There already have been some changes in laws regarding police training and our licensing. We are licensed based on many factors, one being how many hours of training we receive. The number of training hours have increased, such as in crisis intervention and autism training. The use of a chokehold has been limited, but our department did not use this tactic before. We have never done that.
After what happened in Minneapolis this spring, some people look at all of us differently and skeptically. While we are human and make mistakes, it is not possible for us to be accountable for the actions of every police officer, just like in any other profession.
There is an ongoing concern in the general public about what some view as a pattern of unfair treatment by police, often based on race. The latest example is a police shooting of a Black man in Kenosha, Wisconsin, this week. You have been trained in crisis intervention, de-escalation, use of force, and implicit bias. Would you share a bit about the training you've received around implicit bias and race relations?
Our department requires implicit bias training and many hours have been devoted to it. Our most recent training was led by a facilitator who encouraged us to talk about the issues of bias and race relations in particular in small groups with one another. He gave us the space to bring forward issues of implicit bias in a way we could discuss openly. Those who walked away from that training left with a lot of food for thought and introspection on our own lives and how we bring equity and fairness to our daily work and interactions. Our city also offers training on implicit bias and provides great resources to us. The community we serve represents a rich variety of cultural backgrounds and many different races. Our police department is also very diverse so we learn a lot from each other.
As a police officer and person of faith, how do you live out your commitment to equity, fairness, justice, and inclusion for all people?
I consciously practice what I have learned, been taught, and developed over the years as a police officer committed to equity, fairness, justice, and inclusion. It starts with the oath I took, what I’ve been taught through my faith walk, talking with others, reading a fair amount, listening to others’ views, and always trying to grow. There is a lot to learn. For example, 15 years ago there was a week-long crisis intervention training with an emphasis on working with individuals who are experiencing mental health challenges. I wish that training existed early on across our society, because it was an eye-opener for me. It made me understand the spectrum of mental health and that those who are experiencing difficulties are God’s children and need to be treated with the utmost respect. They are humans who should never be labeled in some way. This training was transformative for me and changed the way I dealt with all people.
What would you like your pastor and community of faith to know about your vocation and how we might work together, perhaps in a new and different way?
Officers in general are truly wanting to help and do what is best for the individual but also the city and society. Many police officers are very talented and caring people in a difficult job with our society asking more and more of us every day. We need prayers especially in these times. I believe prayers make a difference. If someone you are talking with has questions about police brutality, reach out to your local police department to discuss these concerns. As a pastor, when someone in your congregation is struggling with questions about police activity, connect them with a cop to sit down and discuss together. Many people do not know a police officer personally or do not have access to police. Faith communities are a great place to bring together police and citizens to talk over questions and concerns with one another.
Church Anew is dedicated to igniting faithful imagination and sustaining inspired innovation by offering transformative learning opportunities for church leaders and faithful people.
As an ecumenical and inclusive ministry of St. Andrew Lutheran Church, the content of each Church Anew blog represents the voice of the individual writer and does not necessarily reflect the position of Church Anew or St. Andrew Lutheran Church on any specific topic.
Policing and the Church: Part One in a Series
First, let it be known that I am a suburban white woman, well-educated, with a good car and a nice house. Which is to say, privileged. In my encounters with police officers, personally or professionally, I have always been treated with respect and fairness. Perhaps that is not a function of guilt or innocence on my part, but of my privilege.
I am doing some painful learning about my privilege and about how racist attitudes are embedded into my psyche, simply because I am part of white American culture. It’s humbling and sobering work to become aware of those attitudes and my implicit bias and intentionally address and recover from them.
I can’t pretend to know what it’s like to face the police in Black skin.
But based on all I have read and heard and watched over time, I know it is often different than my experience. The killing of George Floyd in police custody is a clarion call for our communities to come to terms with the racism that is baked into our system. From Minneapolis to Louisville to Kenosha and everywhere, it’s time to ask big, hard questions and work together for real reform. I am calling for an end to racial bias in all systems, including policing and the entire criminal justice system.
So, what are we, as people of faith, supposed to think about police and policing? Surely, humans of any faith, or no faith at all, were horrified to witness the brutal killing of George Floyd. We all know we don’t want that. Ever again.
But defund the police? Abolish it? That sounds too drastic! We’re not sure we want that, either. So what do we want? Where do we begin?
Perhaps it’s time for some practical theology, beginning with the reality of human sin.
In the long arc of human life on this planet, we saint-and-sinner human beings, as Martin Luther called us, have never managed to live together as God would have us live: in perfect love toward God, self, and neighbor. Never even come close! We hurt each other and ourselves in a million different ways - always have, always will. So there must be law.
As a Lutheran pastor, I am drawn to Martin Luther’s first use of the Law — that of keeping communities safe by bringing order. Think about speed limits. No one likes being pulled over and ticketed, but we don’t want to drive on roads where anyone can go as fast as they like, either. The law can be our friend.
When it comes to enforcing the law, it is far more practical to pool our resources — that is, pay taxes — and hire someone else to do it for all of us, rather than each of us doing it ourselves. And so officers, constables, sheriffs, cops, highway patrol, whatever their title, are necessary and needed.
As community members, we give these women and men authority to apprehend and arrest lawbreakers on our behalf, within certain carefully laid down limitations required by democracy. We ordinary citizens don’t want to put ourselves in danger or witness firsthand the thousands of ways human beings abuse one another.
I don’t want to be the one that walks up to a house or a car where potential danger lurks and wonder what’s about to happen. Police work requires courage, understanding, quick thinking, integrity, good judgment, patience, compassion. It’s risky. Officers take on this risk, for the sake of the community — you and me.
Luther’s Doctrine of Vocation reminds us that God can work through any of us in our various vocations.
Teaching, parenting, accounting, taxi driving, medicine, food service, whatever we do for the sake of the common good can be a means by which God cares for God’s world.
So, can policing be holy work? Absolutely, yes. And I know that there are police officers who see their work that way — as a divine calling — because I’ve met them. God bless them; what a gift they are to their community!
But as much as an honorable officer is a life-giving force in the community, a dishonorable officer does just the opposite. A dishonorable officer can bring death not just to physical bodies, but to the health and vitality of neighborhoods. It erodes the trust that should bind citizens to law enforcement, to the reputation of police in general, and especially to the security and well-being of our black and brown friends.
Here is what I thought when I first saw the George Floyd video, before I had time to engage my brain. “Oh, my God, they’re killing him! Why isn’t someone calling the police?” (Again, privileged white suburbanite). Then the sickening realization that it was a police officer doing the killing.
Truth is, we ask police officers to do a lot. But we allow them to do a lot too. Things ordinary citizens can’t do. We put a uniform on them, pin a badge to their chests, teach our kids to obey them, then put weapons in their hands and send them into the community.
Then we white folks turn our heads and go about our business, because when that power is used perversely, it is seldom in white neighborhoods or on white bodies.
So what distinguishes an honorable cop from a dishonorable one? Maybe this: an honorable cop is one who can carry the power and authority we give them without abusing it, one who stays strong and true in the face of temptation and strain. A dishonorable cop is one who abuses that power and authority, who succumbs to the temptations that authority always brings. But consider this: A good citizen is one who pays attention to both — in order to encourage the honorable cop and stop the dishonorable one. A bad citizen is one who looks away, because it doesn’t affect them (It does of course, but that a topic for another time.).
Racism — American’s original sin, as some have said — is epidemic in our society. It rears its ugly head in every system: churches, schools, hospitals, business, and in law enforcement.
Radley Balko, in a June 10, 2020 commentary in the Washington Post writes, “… after more than a decade covering these issues, it’s pretty clear to me that the evidence of racial bias in our criminal justice system isn’t just convincing — it’s overwhelming. But because there still seems to be some skepticism, I’ve attempted below to catalog the evidence.” Balko lists eleven aspects of policing and law enforcement.
Before we white people climb up on some sort of high “I’m not to blame” horse, let’s admit that police officers reflect both the best and the worst of the communities they represent. They are us, in all our saint-and-sinner flesh as Martin Luther described it. We won’t end racism in policing until we end racism in our community and institutions at large. And we won’t end racism in our community until we end racism in our own hearts and minds.
This is spiritual work, my friends, the work of our congregations and faith communities. Church (virtual or physical) is where we come to acknowledge and confess the sin of our racist attitudes and behavior. Our repentance opens us up to God’s grace, and offers us a chance to do better. Together, we learn what it means to include all people in God’s “love your neighbor as yourself” command. Together, we do the hard but vital work of becoming anti-racist.
And how about this: how about if your congregation “adopted” the local police station?
Churches “adopt” schools all the time, why not do the same with those who do police work? Drop in on them once in a while. Bring officers in to talk to your faith community about what it’s like to police your neighborhood and hear from residents about their experience with policing. Let them be honest about the joys and challenges. If there are officers in your congregation, be sure you know them by name and stay in touch, especially now. Pray for them regularly and by name. Help them stay strong, in work and in faith.
So, what do we, good people of faith, want from police and policing? We want justice — for all. We want safety and security — for all. We want to be worthy of our honorable cops and bold in calling out the dishonorable ones. We yearn for God’s good creation – in all its parts – to flourish. “Defund” may not be the best word to describe what needs to be done. But change needs to happen. And it has to happen now, before we all forget what we saw happen to Mr. George Floyd and slip back into complacency.
This post by Pastor Susan Weaver is part one of a series to represent the diverse perspectives of the community on policing. If you would like to share your thoughts, e-mail support@churchanew.org.
Susan Weaver
Susan Weaver is a retired ELCA pastor, a spiritual director, a former parent educator and teacher. She is grandma to two beloved little girls and loves to read, learn and think out loud with others. She blogs occasionally at pastorgrandma.com
Church Anew is dedicated to igniting faithful imagination and sustaining inspired innovation by offering transformative learning opportunities for church leaders and faithful people.
As an ecumenical and inclusive ministry of St. Andrew Lutheran Church, the content of each Church Anew blog represents the voice of the individual writer and does not necessarily reflect the position of Church Anew or St. Andrew Lutheran Church on any specific topic.
Preaching about Racism in America: What Comes Next?
In Luke, Jesus carries the kingdom in his wake. Wherever he walks, wherever he speaks, wherever the hurt are touched, lives are transformed. An unnamed woman in Luke 7:36-50 is no longer a “sinner”; she belongs at the table. Similarly in 8:26-39, a man invaded by a legion of demons, living among the dead, chained by his neighbors, is delivered from demonic possession so that he is found “clothed and in his right mind” (v. 35). Zacchaeus’s encounter with Jesus in 19:1-10 transforms his identity from a supposedly corrupt tax collector to “a son of Abraham.”
All three of these people have their lives transformed by their encounter by Jesus, not just because they have been changed by Jesus but also because the perception of their neighbors have been changed too.
Sinner to sister. Demoniac to neighbor. Traitor to kin.
But don’t you wonder what happened when Jesus left? Did the communities once transformed go back to old assumptions? Sister to sinner. Neighbor to demoniac. Kin to traitor.
What happens when Jesus leaves town? When Jesus moves on to the next community full of people yearning for deliverance, healing, and justice, what happens to those whom he has changed after he leaves?
Many pastors took an important step these last few Sundays. Already dispersed into online spaces and some confronting with new urgency the ways that white supremacy afflicts black communities, congregations gathered these last two Sundays. And in some of these congregations, preachers preached perhaps for the first time about the pervasive entanglements of racism, not just in policing and policy but in the church, too. Many preachers confronted the reality that racist systems were not dusty, old realities but present still in tangible, destructive ways.
Let’s be clear.
Many communities have been preaching and praying and working in concrete ways against these death-dealing realities for a long, long time. Many churches have been living with the effects of racism and advocating against it well before the last few weeks of protest.
But some churches and some preachers are treading new ground. Preachers are naming truths. Preachers are confessing sin. And thank God for that. The Spirit moves ahead of us so often, and it takes some of us a long time to catch up. There is room for repentance and repair when we have not heard the cries of our neighbors or heeded their affliction.
And many preachers who have proclaimed boldly have started getting the emails and letters. The concerned complaints. The exhortations to stick to the gospel. The desire that the church be a place that sets aside politics and focus on Jesus. The (not so) subtle threats. Some have faced something else. That eery silence that indicates not acceptance but simmering anger.
What comes next? What happens when the conviction and transformation Jesus brings in his wake seem to fade?
I wonder if Luke never narrates for us the longterm aftermath of Jesus’ transformation of these communities as a theological and literary challenge to us. Luke draws us to wonder what comes after Jesus’ transformative presence. When Jesus shows up in our midst, messing up categories and structures which we have learned to love even as they tear us apart, will we continue in the paths he has set before us? Will we persist in the transformation Jesus has wrought with his hands or return to the silence that comforted the comforted while afflicting the afflicted?
We must persist, friends. And we will. Not because we will try really, really hard to be a really, really good Christian, but because of God’s transformative and generous grace. There are no quick fixes when it comes to the racism that haunts our churches and our communities. There is a promise, a promise that God’s embrace is mightier than our deepest fears and a community’s most virulent sin.
After all, what is our aim as preachers? Why are we doing this? Why did some preach for the first time a gospel that named the truths about white supremacy and anti-black violence that have always been evident before us?
Our aim as preachers is not just to be right. Our goal is not just getting the right answer or just getting accolades from folks who agree with us.
Our hope is love, not the sappy love of movies and greeting cards but the kind of love that digs deep into the ground, the kind of love that marches and demands justice, the kind of love that costs us something, the kind of love Jesus embodies in healing the sick and drawing the marginalized to his side and exposing the frailty of the empire’s cross.
That kind of love is a beacon of belonging. That kind of love makes us whole.
So keep preaching, preachers. And keep marching. And keep protesting. And keep working toward a world that more closely reflects the kingdom of God.
Your neighbors and your church are yearning for a prophetic word. And with God’s grace, our frail words can bear witness to what God has done and is doing in our midst. With God’s grace, our words will echo what our hands do, where our feet walk.
What comes next?
The Jesus who makes us whole, who sits with us in the mire of injustice, who was lifted from the grave teaches us that the kingdom is here and just around the corner, too.
Some preachers have long addressed the systemic sin of racism in America. But others are coming at this for the first time. This week, the Church Anew Blog draws from the deep well of scripture to find renewed hope in a gospel that transforms lives and communities for justice.
Eric D. Barreto
Eric D. Barreto is the Weyerhaeuser Associate Professor of New Testament at Princeton Theological Seminary. His passion is to pursue scholarship for the sake of the church, and he regularly writes for and teaches in faith communities around the country.
Twitter | @ericbarreto
Church Anew is dedicated to igniting faithful imagination and sustaining inspired innovation by offering transformative learning opportunities for church leaders and faithful people.
As an ecumenical and inclusive ministry of St. Andrew Lutheran Church, the content of each Church Anew blog represents the voice of the individual writer and does not necessarily reflect the position of Church Anew or St. Andrew Lutheran Church on any specific topic.
Church? An answer with inspiration from Rachel Held Evans
What is something that keeps you in the church/Church in this day and age?
A plain and simple question during quarantine stirs poignant memories of church and dreaming beyond.
A recent conversation with a dear friend, Gail Song Bantum, Lead Pastor of Quest Church in Seattle, Washington, brought a lot of warmth and light to me one dreary afternoon. During this season of quarantine, despite feeling some major Zoom fatigue, it was good to see her, to be seen by her, and to catch up, laugh, share and dream a little together. At one point, she asked me a very plain, but ultimately poignant question, especially in this day and age, something I didn’t expect—what is something that keeps you in the church/Church?
A number of images, smells, and voices flitted through my mind: fellowship hour in the basement of my childhood church with the smell of steaming rice and pungent kimchi, savory dishes or fishy, hearty soups, and all our moms in the kitchen cooking and cutting it up together, but each one making sure that everyone had enough to eat. Working and worshiping in 90-degree heat with Pentecostals in the Dominican Republic, playing games in Spanish with children and passing buckets of mezcla for our awkward and inept attempts at construction work. My children’s baptisms. Ash Wednesdays.
And then, remembering one of the connections Gail and I have is through a conference called Why Christian? which was hosted by Rachel Held Evans and Nadia Bolz-Weber for five years. It was a space that held this question of “Why Christian?” and in holding the question, it was the answer in some ways, too. It recognized both brokenness and wholeness as inevitable parts of our faith journey and how essential it was to care for each other in it. Afterwards there were more conversations around the simple question of “why Christian?” and “why Church?” The answers that emerged from people’s experiences continue to stay with me.
Rachel has since passed away—we have just marked the one-year anniversary of her death, and I continue to grieve and be grateful for her presence in the world. I now realize the answer to the question Gail posed to me is presence. It is the cloud of witnesses, it is the saints and sinners, and angels, it’s God’s Spirit—how it shows up over and over with a casserole when a family has dealt with an illness or new baby. How it shows up at someone’s bedside before and after a surgery. How it shows up when the homeless community needs shelter during those unforgiving winter months. How it shows up to celebrate and lift up, to anoint and heal, to witness, to listen, and to give testimony.
This is not to erase the Church’s unspeakable destruction and oppression of various communities—LGBTQ+, people of color, people with disabilities, people of other religious faiths and beliefs, and more. I know. I’ve witnessed how a church has shown up and it was ugly and hurtful—it was violent. These days many still are. So, I deeply believe this is a part of the wider Church’s work today—to confess, to lament, to repair, to make amends because this is one way we can be faithful to God’s loving and listening presence in the world.
I’m thinking a lot about compassion these days because it seems we need it in spades. Millions of people are out of a job, thousands of people are sick, hundreds are lonely and isolated. Compassion strikes me as an extension of presence—it’s the quiet solidarity that emerges when confronting an injustice. It’s the weepiness that accompanies a moment when encountering pain or loss. It’s that wordless gut-wrenching that happens when you walk in someone’s shoes for even a moment. But it’s not an individual act or experience, it’s meant to be communal. I’m struck by these words by Crina Gschwandtner, Professor of Philosophy at Fordham University:
If we truly believe in compassion, we should be at the forefront of creating such change. We must move beyond private acts of charity to address the deep social, economic, and racial inequalities that perpetuate poverty, homelessness, and disproportionate rates of illness and death. There can be no “spiritual” salvation that ignores the suffering bodies of the poor. [1]
Our salvation is tied up in each other. For the church to be the hands and feet, the presence of God in the world, it will require a radical kind of curiosity about the neighbor and stranger, a brave willingness to live out God’s generosity, a passion for telling and listening to authentic stories, and the kind of compassion that involves heart, mind, spirit, and bodies. I continue to be thankful for the artists and poets, pastors and teachers, activists and advocates who quicken our imaginations so we might dream and live out these different possibilities.
[1] Gschwandtner, Crina. “Compassion in Crisis: Challenging a Culture of Injustice.” Public Orthodoxy, April 30, 2020. https://publicorthodoxy.org/2020/04/30/compassion-in-crisis/
Mihee Kim-Kort
Mihee Kim-Kort is a Presbyterian (PCUSA) minister, speaker, writer, and slinger of hopeful stories about faith and church. Her writing and commentary can be found at TIME, BBC World Service, USA Today, Huffington Post, Christian Century, On Being, Sojourners, and Faith & Leadership. She is co-pastor with her spouse of First Presbyerian Church in Annapolis, MD and a 4th year PhD student in Religious Studies at Indiana University.
Twitter | @miheekimkort
Instagram | @mkimkort
Website | mkimkort.com
Church Anew is dedicated to igniting faithful imagination and sustaining inspired innovation by offering transformative learning opportunities for church leaders and faithful people.
As an ecumenical and inclusive ministry of St. Andrew Lutheran Church, the content of each Church Anew blog represents the voice of the individual writer and does not necessarily reflect the position of Church Anew or St. Andrew Lutheran Church on any specific topic.