My Dear Doubters of Great Faith,
It is amazing when I stop and consider that only one brief year ago (and yet a lifetime), I had my first conversation with the Search Committee of the Episcopal Church of St. Thomas the Apostle. I remember telling you in our first Sunday together that my time with you, our time together, while sometimes seeming painfully slow, as in a pandemic, would in reality, be fleeting. And so, if we had business to attend to, we’d best be about that business!
I was clear in my interviews as to the kind of ministry that God was (and is) calling me into, the ministry of urban social justice work with a particular emphasis on race, reconciliation, and healing. And I believed that was something that St. Thomas would be particularly good and gifted at, based on the leadership and hard work this place has already exhibited in several important equal rights struggles. As individuals and as a community, you have opened your hearts, your minds, and your spirits to welcome and celebrate those who were not you in some wonderful, life-giving ways!
While there has been work done in the areas of desegregation and gender issues, I feel the bulk of St. Thomas’ focus has been on struggles for acceptance and renewal in the LGBTQ community. This has been a place that has demonstrated, not just through its words, but through its actions, that the gay/lesbian community, and those who support and ally with them/us, are welcome and safe within these walls, safe to be who we are, confident in God’s ever-loving gracious care, even through the rages of another pandemic!
I believe this is what makes us uniquely situated to exercise a new call to ally, to stand in the gap, to risk the privilege that we are able to enjoy, for our marginalized sisters and brothers of color. Many of us know what it feels like to have been in that gap, to have had at least a proverbial knee in our necks as we have been denied basic rights afforded us in a heteronormative world. Sitting back and enjoying newfound privilege is simply not good enough in God’s reality. Jesus is calling us to do something with what we’ve been given.
It is time for us to ally, to come alongside, and to begin to find ways to pull the knee off others’ necks, to address the racial injustice that has for centuries pervaded the social systems of our community and this country. Your Vestry is considering making the bold statement #BlackLivesMatter. I would be proud and excited to pastor a church that makes that bold proclamation. What would make me even more excited would and will be when we have a church who’s actions and deeds speak #BlackLivesMatter. That is the real challenge to all of us. What are our actions saying about the values we incorporate at the Episcopal Church of St. Thomas the Apostle?
One of the first privileged comments to arise from #BlackLivesMatter is, “Well, don’t all lives matter?” Yes, all life is sacred, and holy, and to be valued and respected. But let’s remember, when this country was founded, black lives were valued at 3/5 that of other lives, a trend that seemingly continues in many ways to this day. And in this moment in time, this particular gap is the one that needs standing in; black lives have borne the brunt of violence and disregard and shame and disrespect. If you are reading Isabel Wilkerson’s “Caste,” you are getting a glimpse of this. We must risk our privilege to get the knee off this neck before one more life is lost, precisely because all life is sacred.
There is one thing to remember about being an ally, one extra bit of privilege. At the end of the day, the ally gets to go home and take off the garment, sleep in the nice, safe bed, and dream pleasant dreams. In short, resume privilege. The one being “allied-with” never gets to take the yoke of burden off.
If you haven’t already, start reading “Caste.” Join us in the class. Time is fleeting.
However, it’s never too late!
Yours faithfully,
Fr. Christopher+
