Where Do We Go From Here?

I M A G O D E I

Special Eight-Week Series: 

Where Do We Go From Here?
by, Darryl Answer, Co-Pastor of New Community Church

Spanish Translation

---

In 1967 Dr. Martin Luther King asked a question in the title of his book “Where do we go from here: Chaos or Community?” Though that book was written 53 years ago, this question is hauntingly relevant in our current moment of heightened racial tensions, not only in America, but in other nations where White Supremacy continues to be the framework that people of color must navigate and even survive. As I have pondered Dr. King's question, read the words of the Biblical and modern-day prophets, cried with my black and brown sisters and brothers, I humbly submit my answers to the question, “Where do we go from here?”

Repent (of white supremacy):

The Greek word for repent is Metanoia. This is not only a turning from old behaviors that are out of alignment with God (sin), but it is a change of mind, a paradigm shift. It is an invitation to see with new eyes, and in doing so move forward with renewed vision and purpose. When it comes to conversations about race, for some there is a visceral reaction to the words “white supremacy.” It conjures up for many images of burning crosses, men in white hoods, and the lynching of black bodies. 

These overt displays of racism feel far removed from our current realities in 21st century America, but if we look at white supremacy with eyes of repentance, we will recognize how this social construction has shaped our current reality inside and outside the church. With new eyes, we will see how white supremacy not only dictates our racially segregated neighborhoods and schools, but also our racially segregated pews and pulpits. With new eyes, we will seek righteousness and do justice in ways that center those on the margins and does away with white saviorism. With new eyes, we will see all people as image-bearers of God, and no longer live into our racial hierarchies. 

When we become a people who are on a journey of repentance, we will see better, we will know better, and we will do better. 

Listen (to women of color): 

In light of our current moment, there has been a desire to learn more about how race and white supremacy have led us to this moment. There has been a surge in racial bias trainings, book clubs, and webinars, all with the desire for knowledge that for the first time will result in racial healing. I am grateful for this. In this moment I have witnessed my wife go deeper into her studies as a white woman desiring to engage other white folks who are resistant to the work of uprooting white supremacy. In the midst of this mad dash to learn, I have noticed that the elevated voices, those who are often quoted and asked to speak, those whose books are sold out or on back order, are white. The sad reality is that in the midst of our racial endemic, white people who desire to learn are more likely to listen to other white people. This too is a form of white supremacy. There are many reasons for this, but what I want to encourage white people to do is listen to People of Color. Especially Women of Color. Our African American, Latina,  Asian American, and Native sisters continue to be overlooked in the fight for justice while they are the very ones putting their bodies on the line day in day out for freedom. There are incredible female thinkers, pastors, and leaders who you need to follow on social media, read, and watch. A few of those names are Michelle Higgins, Chanequa Walker-Barnes, Andrea Smith, Angie Hong, Kathy Khang, Dr. Elizabeth Conde-Frazier, and Bethany Rivera Molinar.

If you are serious about your church or ministry engaging in the work of racial righteousness and justice, I strongly encourage you to listen to those closest to the struggle, those being our sisters of color. 

Move (beyond neutrality to “anti-racist”):

Our current moment demands the church do better. We must move beyond racial neutrality to anti-racism. As a black man in America, I can honestly say that churches who maintain the posture of neutrality end up being oppressive spaces where people of color feel tokenized but not heard. We are invited to the (white) table but are unable to bring our full selves. Our bodies are welcome, not our voice, power, leadership, culture, etc. We are traumatized by your white silence. Do you see us?

One way we can be anti-racist, especially in this moment is to be in solidarity with those who have experienced and are in opposition to police brutality. Too many times, in moments when people are rising up, seeking justice, and working towards true peace for all, the church creates parallel movements. These movements can be prayer gatherings, marches, and rallies that don’t include the marginalized, but take place in partnership with those in power. This may be unintentional, but in this pursuit of “peace” what we are really doing is undermining the true work for justice, part of which is exposing and disrupting evil to create a better future. The church must be careful not to resist the resistance taking place in our streets. We should be the prophetic witness that calls out “Empire” and invites people into the alternative community known as the Kingdom of God. To be about kingdom work is to be anti-racist. What will this look like for you personally, in your family, your workplace, where you study, or your ministry? 

So, where do we go from here? How do we move toward God’s vision for our churches in light of our racialized society? We must begin with repentance, uprooting white supremacy in our churches. We must listen to and value people of color who are experts in this field, especially Black women. We must become anti-racist in all areas of our lives and ministries because neutrality is killing our witness.  White supremacy has blinded the eyes of many in the white church and has broken the bodies of many people of color. The reality is we all suffer from this racial endemic, but I remain hopeful because my Lord left the throne of heaven to become poor, marginalized, and afflicted under the Roman regime. He was beaten. He was executed on a cross like a criminal. But, on the third day, he rose in victory. Like the old hymn says, “Because he lives, I can face tomorrow,” and with that hope in my heart I press on to be part of the community He gave his life for.

---

About the Author

Darryl Answer was born and raised in London, England. He is currently co-pastor of New Community Church, a recent church plant in Kansas City, MO. Darryl has served in a variety of leadership roles within churches, non-profit organizations, and in community development.  Darryl also provides consulting and training for organizations and churches in the areas of Racial Justice and Asset-Based Community Development (ABCD). Darryl and his wife, Stephanie, live in the Kansas City with their two children, Jaidyn and Kian.

---

This is the final Adelante Express dedicated to exploring themes related to the concept of the Imago Dei and racial justice. We hope this series has caused you to think about and explore what it means to love our neighbor and see the image of God in them.

Racial Trauma and Black Resilience

I M A G O D E I

Special Eight-Week Series: 

Racial Trauma and Black Resilience
by, Kori Carew, Mission Adelante Board Member, Chief Inclusion & Diversity Officer Seyfarth Shaw LLP, and Founder/Speaker Bridge 68 LLC

Spanish Translation

---

Like many, I have felt rage, sorrow, grief, fear, despair, hopelessness, helplessness, and anxiety from uncertainty-and even questioned my work and impact in this world since May 25. I cried myself to sleep on May 26 and did not wake up the next day feeling any better. In fact, I struggled through the work day. I later learned that my experience was not unique as Black people all over the world found it hard to function in the days after George Floyd was callously killed on camera, his breath snuffed out over 8 minutes and 46 seconds.

As a Christian who is Black, I turn to Christ and my church family in good times and in bad. And yet over the years, it has become increasingly hard to turn to my church family. In fact, I have questioned, do I have a church family? Do I belong? Way too often the answer has been no. Way too often the reception has been one of denial or centering white comfort.

All around you, your Black colleagues, family, and friends have had to struggle through being professional as they show up to work every day and are not doing okay. We are not okay. The impact of systemic racism and the violence that we know has always been there is now captured on phones for all to see.  And because of 24-hour news cycles, repeat viewing (often unintentional) we experience trauma, stress, and anxiety.

In the weeks since George Floyd’s murder, the country has been engulfed in a racial awakening.  I have watched the larger faith community continue to struggle to find its voice. On one hand, it was affirming to see many churches take firm, bold, and unapologetic stands decrying systemic racism, decrying police brutality, and some even owning the failure of the White Evangelical church to proactively address White supremacy in the church.  As in prior incidents of racial terror and dehumanization however, it was also painful to also see many churches remain silent, or offer weak statements that included equivocation.

My story is not universal, but I also know my pain and disappointment at the failure of the church to step up and stand up for Black lives, racial justice, and racial reconciliation has felt like an abandonment. The posture of not strongly addressing racism as part and parcel of the call for us to love our neighbors as Christ loves us has communicated that we, as people, are loveable only in as much as our pain, our experiences, and the injustice we experience can be hidden from view and discussion.  In this, we continue to fail. You cannot love a person you won’t see and grow to know. As people, we are not visible if we must conform. Belonging requires authenticity and that we bring our whole selves. This is true in our families, our churches, and in our workplaces. This is why every time we show up on Sunday after yet another racial tragedy and there is silence from the pulpit, we hurt. 

Some Christians hide behind a theology that says we need only love each other and racism will disappear.  To those, I say, “God asks us to do the work”. We are here, as His representatives, to do the work. God shows up in those around us, through us. We must remember that the same God who told us the Holy Spirit will always be with us to guide us also told us, through apostle Paul, that we must continue to renew our mind. And guess what?  We are not showing up when we choose not to confront interpersonal and systemic racism.

In the last several weeks, I have read think pieces claiming the current movement for Black lives and justice is worldly and not from God. I have read pieces decrying all sorts of things -- from Critical Race Theory to the organization Black Lives Matter. From these same people, I have NOT seen their alternative approach or their engagement in the fight for justice. I see criticism with no accompanying action. I hear excuses and deflection and no love.

Racism, like shame, hides behind silence and grows in the dark. Our unwillingness to speak of it, to deconstruct it, and to stand in the discomfort of what our deconstruction unearths allows it to continue to permeate our institutions, beliefs, and churches. Believe me when I tell you that White Supremacy is still in the church.

Despite the failure of your country and our church to adequately stand up for Black lives, Black people continue to epitomize resilience. From slavery until today, we see a people who deal with racial trauma and continue to keep trying. Our country demands of Black people a constant reassurance of forgiveness. In fact, in our churches, the stories we love to tell to highlight reconciliation seem to be the ones where Black people instantly forgive racial aggression. There is nothing wrong with forgiveness. However, it is the unwritten expectation of forgiveness from this one group of people, more than any other, that is problematic.

Black resilience shows up in the fact that many a Black Christian has made space to listen to their White Brethren and Sistren tell them how shocked they are at how bad things continue to be.  We have held space for our White brothers to wax poetic about Critical Race Theory and its flaws, while saying nothing about Black blood spilled in the street.  We’ve sat to explain why a sensitivity to the words White Supremacy should not negate a commitment to fight for equality, if you are a true ally. And yet Black Christians continue to do this -- make space, get back up again, even while dealing with their own racial trauma. The trauma from racism, the repeated acts of racism we face daily, from micro-inequities to explicit violent bias, impact us physically, mentally, and psychologically. And yet, we get up, we go to work, and we go to church and worship, often with fellow Christians who may not even acknowledge what is happening around them when it comes to race.

Two weeks ago I was on a town hall video webinar for a bar association with a global footprint. We were discussing racism, allyship, and policing. We were “Zoom-bombed” by people who used violent language towards us. We were called Nigger Apes and more. My family was threatened. It was awful and those on the video webinar were visibly shaken and upset. The speakers, all Black professionals, stayed calm and finished the program. I went back to work. Work for me is making space for difficult conversations, focusing on policy changes to create equity, strategic planning, counseling, mentoring, coaching, interrupting systemic problems that lead to inequity, teaching, designing educational curriculum, wiping tears, and the list goes on. You can bet that with the COVID-19 pandemic and the racial pandemic work has meant longer hours, more stress, more demands, and more needs for strong leadership. And like millions of Black people, I go back to doing myself after being threatened and verbally abused with words that, for hundreds of years, have been used to instill fear and humiliation.

The work that remains to be done is not about hearing more stories of black pain and trauma. The work that remains to be done is for the church to hurt the way God’s heart hurts around racial injustice and inequity. The work that remains to be done is for us to move from thoughts and prayers to action. I have said this before and strongly believe that the church is Plan A. Let’s be Plan A.

---

Over the next eight weeks, we will dedicate our Adelante Express to exploring themes related to the concept of the Imago Dei and racial justice. We invite you to follow this series and explore what it means to love our neighbor and see the image of God in them.