Stephen
Terry, Director
Covenant at Sinai
Commentary
for the May 15, 2021 Sabbath School Lesson
"Remember..." Exodus
20:8a, NIV
Slavery has had a
troubling, centuries-long existence in North America, predating the American
Revolution and the establishment of the United States. Some date its beginning
here back to 1619 in Jamestown, Virginia four hundred years ago. It is not hard
to see the parallel between this period and the four centuries of enslavement
of the Israelites in Egypt prior to the Exodus. For this reason, those who are
still unsympathetic to the black plight in America prefer to date slavery as
only running to the ratification of the Thirteenth Amendment to the United
States Constitution in 1865. They realize how powerful the biblical metaphor can
be in inspiring an oppressed people. Many references can be found to the Exodus
experience of the Israelites in abolitionist literature and in speeches, articles,
and artwork of the continuing struggle by blacks looking to undo the stigma associated
with the color of their skin. Unlike the Jews after World War II, who could
shed the yellow stars that they wore under the Nazis, skin color could not be
erased or forgotten.
Those who want to say
that slavery ended in 1865 are likely without experience of what the stigma of
a black skin could mean in "post-slavery" America. Perhaps they are unaware of
the rounding up of so-called indigent blacks for the local sheriff to lease out
to local farms and businesses to do the same work they did under slavery for
the same wages (nothing) that they had under slavery. Perhaps they are also
unaware of the Jim Crow laws that prohibited blacks from having equal access to
the same liberties that whites always enjoyed. They could not eat at the same
restaurants. They could not buy gas at the same gas stations. They could not be
admitted to the same hospitals. Even what should be the most inclusive event in
a professedly Christian nation, the worship hour, has been often segregated.
Christian universities and colleges segregated their cafeterias. A white church
in our own denomination has refused a black pastor as recently as in the past
decade within only a few miles of where I live in the Pacific Northwest for
fear of becoming known as a black church. While I doubt this was openly said, a
leading family in the church shared with me that the conference had offered
them a well-qualified black pastor, and the church had been discussing how to
prevent it from happening. The person who called me about the issue said that
their family agreed with those refusing the pastor. I did not agree but was not
a member of that local church and had no vote or voice in the pastoral
selection process. In the end, he was officially rejected as a candidate by
that church. As many blacks have said for so long, racism is not overt but
takes place in hidden back rooms and in discreet phone conversations, away from
public view and knowledge. Feminists, suffragettes, union organizers all have known,
equally well with those who struggle for racial equality, how these secretive
oppressions take place.
Those who think slavery
ended in 1865 have likely never experienced "red lining" of
districts, where black families are excluded from living, when buying a home.
They have probably not experienced Sundown Towns, where blacks could be arrested
or worse if they were within city limits after dark while traveling on a family
vacation. They did not experience having their teenage sons murdered for daring
to speak to a white woman. They did not see their adult sons return from
fighting in World War I, expecting to enjoy the civil rights they had fought to
preserve only to be lynched by the score to appease white fears of "uppity"
blacks. They have also not experienced having an entire community destroyed as
blacks experienced with the Tulsa Massacre of 1921. Sometimes I experience a
little animosity from blacks because of my white skin. I do not like it. It
makes me feel uneasy, but I understand completely based on what so many of them
have been through for no other reason than being black. I bear a racial shame
for how whites have treated blacks. I also bear a denominational shame for my
denomination's embracement of Jim Crow by creating separate-but-equal Regional
Conferences. This misstep created a wound that seems almost impossible to heal
today. The denomination missed an excellent chance to heal in 1954. Had they
embraced "Brown v. Board of Education" as willingly as they had "Plessy v.
Ferguson," we would be much further along than we are on the road to racial
reconciliation. However, if church members continue to see the race of whoever
is in charge as making a church, conference, union, etc. as being black or
white, we will continue wandering far from the Promised Land, unable to enter
in.
Long ago, God created
man and offered him an Edenic paradise if mankind would trust him enough to believe
and follow what God taught him. But the trust was broken, and like Cain and
Abel, those who did not want to live in relationship with God too often mistreated
or killed those that did. The evil became so profuse that it could not be allowed
to continue and still expect anyone godly to survive. God then called Noah and
his family to preserve the godly line in an ark that would pass through the
deluge to come. But even beginning again with Noah's family, things went astray
shortly after with Noah cursing one of his sons and his descendants. God tried
again with Abraham, but his descendants fumbled the ball and ended up enslaved
in Egypt for four centuries. Eventually, God called Moses to free them. The
dramatic story, preserved in the book of Exodus, has served as an inspiration
for anyone struggling against oppression. The idea that freedom is possible is
a theme that resonates and calls each of us to God, not only for spiritual redemption,
but for physical liberation, too. For this reason, we often see Moses as a messianic
figure, breaking the chains of slavery and setting people free. Just like those
ancient Israelites, we yearn to be free and rejoice at the opportunity. We
demand the freedoms not yet realized. We focus on all the loss that our
enslaved past has left us with. We struggle to cross the Red Sea over the
Pettis Bridge of Civil Rights. We are convinced of the righteousness of it all,
and rightfully so. God created each of us to be free to become everything he created
us to be. But what does that really mean?
When a teenager first
gets their driver's license, they rarely think beyond the freedom they now have
to travel where they wish. They have little understanding of the decades of
automobile fueling, maintenance, and insurance expenses to come. Although each
must pass an exam for ability and another for understanding the rules of the
road, for too many, everything goes in one ear and out the other because they
are under the enchantment of the open road. This is shown in the fact that most
become familiar with the traffic citation that reins in some of that freedom
and romance. They learn that freedom is not so much an escape from what they
experienced before as a call to a new responsibility they had not known. It is pretty
much the same in every case involving freedom.
When Moses led the
Israelites to freedom from Egypt, it was not simply so they could run and play in
the wilderness, even though they spent forty years there. It was to enter the Promised
Land where they were to be God's priestly example to the rest of the world, ministering
to nations, tribes, and individuals the grace of God's compassionate love. In
this they failed. Instead of reaching out with compassion and love, they walled
themselves in with suspicion and hatred of the other. When Jesus traveled through
Samaria, he tried to teach his disciples about the welcoming inclusiveness that
God desires. It is a founding principle of his kingdom. Philip baptizing the
Ethiopian eunuch, and Peter's baptism of the Roman Centurion and his family show
that the idea caught on for a while. But as Paul discovered, soon after Jesus'
ascension, some wanted the walls back up, pushing for things like circumcision
and eating separate from gentiles, things that exclude and divide. By the 4th
century, with the power of the state to enforce its will, the church ironically
excluded the kinds of people often responsible for its early existence and
growth, the Jews and women. They forbade the keeping
of the Sabbath, kept for millennia on the day now called Saturday, and they
forbade the ordaining of women in a refusal to see them as equally called to
the priesthood. The Christian church went from serving everyone to controlling
everything as it often does today.
Our black brothers and
sisters have the precious opportunity to set us back on the right path if they
are willing and we are willing to listen. It is not enough to simply escape
slavery in all its insidious forms. When God calls us out of something terrible,
he calls us because he has a purpose in mind. That purpose is usually service
to others. Who better to understand the needs of society than those who have
been deprived of those needs for so long. When God covenants with us to be a royal
priesthood, it is not to put on flowing robes and add fancy titles to our names
like bishop, deacon, reverend, and all the other denominational clap trap that
we affect. Instead, it is to pick up the towel and wash basin of Jesus and serve
the needs of everyone, including the Judas willing to betray us. It is not to
amass wealth and political power to separate society into the deserving and
those who are not. In the struggle for black liberation, may we each,
regardless of race, not miss this precious opportunity to be the compassionate
person God has called us to be, has freed us to be. This is what it means to be
"Free at last!"