My Doubters of Great Faith,
Downtown areas, the central business districts of major metropolitan areas, are, in many ways, the heart and soul, the very canvas upon which the art of life gets played out. Ticker-tape parades and fireworks accompany victory, signaling joy; angst and sorrow are punctuated by protest and lament. The ebb and flow of the homeless population indicates how we do, or do not, take care of our sisters and brothers.
For better or worse, downtowns are statements of our communal life together.
And so, it is fascinating to me, as I hold a bit of a unique view of this statement, at this particular junction in history, having chosen to locate my home-life in the central business district of our community, Dallas. My reasoning for this is rooted in my deep sense of calling to urban social justice ministry, these dense urban areas so often being the birthplace of and the petri dishes for the great ills of our society. They function a bit like stages for what is going on deep at the DNA level.
And yet, this is all still a bit surprising to me, having only been a resident of downtown Dallas since February. There is still quite a bit of my “suburban-ness” at play, when I want the world outside my window to quiet down by 10 pm on any given Saturday night, because I have to be on deck to preach the following morning. In the midst of COVID-19, business closure, economic roil, racial struggle and strife, my Sunday is still coming. How insensitive of downtown not to meet my need, and silence!
You may have heard a bit of what is going on down here (and in other major metropolitan areas) of late – street racers, stunt drivers, fireworks (not the sanctioned kind), uncontrolled use of scooters – a somewhat lawless, chaotic scene that seems to be drawing little attention from law enforcement and leadership. Why isn’t someone doing something about this? Where are my hard-earned tax dollars going, if not to exert control over just such as this? (Reflexive privileged responses)
What “this” is, is an example, played out on the stage of downtown, of the ever-growing deeper chasm dividing our country, divisions being stoked by the very thing that I located downtown to fight – injustice. The injustice of a disease that is pushing us (necessarily) apart. The injustice of an economic system that is rending many asunder. The injustice of a caste system that has, for centuries, kept us apart, even as we refused (and some continue to refuse) to acknowledge it.
And here we are, again, on the heels of yet another senseless, needless use of potentially deadly force. Jacob Blake. And the division gets just a little deeper. Peoples’ hearts on both sides of the divide get just a little more hardened, a little less likely to see the others’ point of view. It should be no wonder that there is street racing, stunts, and fireworks until all hours of the night. It should be no surprise that police response times have fallen dramatically. People are crying out desperately to be heard, yelling across the ever-growing divide, any way that they can.
None of this makes me happy. How could it? After all, I still have to get up at 6 am on Sunday.
However, it does remind me of the work, the inconvenient work that I (and we) are called to do, which is to bring Jesus’ presence into that divide, to stand in the gap, to be the ones who lean forward into the process of healing divisions.
I hope you are planning to join our book study of “Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents,” by Isabel Wilkerson. It’s an eye-opening read, and will inform the beginnings of our journey together on this path toward self-awareness, giving us new language to start our own dialogue process.
Because, the way divides get crossed is through bridges of dialogue, intentional dialogue. Deeper entrenchment will only deepen the divide. Violence will only deepen the divide. Turning a deaf ear will only deepen the divide. The only way healing has hope of beginning is through the active listening of deliberate, purposeful, respectful conversation.
So, if a good night’s sleep is what we want, we’ve got some bridge-building to do!
Yours faithfully,
Fr. Christopher+
