Grace in a Time of Hate

A side street view of Grace Episcopal Church

Some of us have been distressed by the season of hate that seems to have taken hold in the U.S. Earlier this month, the presence of white supremacy groups marching on Charlottesville to protest the town’s decision to move a statue of Robert E. Lee was disturbing to many. As a Southerner who seeks to live a Christian life, I was particularly distressed to see how so many white Christians could not bring themselves to denounce white supremacists and the hate speech they promote. Southern Evangelicals have been especially shameful, in my opinion, in refusing to call out white supremacy, and refusing to hold a president accountable for his blatant disregard for moral values and democratic ideals. 

The torches, the swastikas, the chants of "Blood and Soil," and "Jews will not replace us" were so out of place for the America I thought we should be living in by now. At the same time, so few white Christians were willing to speak out; so many conservative politicians stood silent, offering no opposition to the words and actions of hate.

Southern Confession

I will tell you a secret. I am “southern born and southern bred,” having grown up in Alabama. We have a state rich in natural beauty, but also steeped in racial prejudice. Here is my secret: I have been assuming all of my adult life that the rest of the country would help my state redeem itself. When I saw the success of the civil rights movement along with the advances made in the U.S. to bring about equity and justice, I thought that my home state would eventually realize its errors. I thought we would have to mend our ways as we came to realize the responsibility that comes with being part of “one nation, under God, indivisible with liberty and justice for all.”

I thought a just nation would bring my state in line so that humanity would flower and prejudice would subside. As I have looked out at our country over the past several months, I fear that Alabama has had more of an influence on the rest of the nation than the nation has had on Alabama. The fear, hatred, prejudice and violence that I thought would subside in my state, have instead spread across the country.  We seem to have dispensed with the guardrails of common decency in our public discourse.


Is This the New Normal?

So now you see why recent events have been demoralizing for me.

I know that not everyone is turning a blind eye to white supremacy and hatred. I know that last November a little over half the country voted against a right-wing demagogue. I know that many people at the time found his bigotry and sexism beyond the pale. Yet the fear is that this “beyond the pale” bigotry is in danger of becoming the new normal. Some days, it can all seem overwhelming.

By the end of last week, I felt the need to spend some time in prayer in light of what I saw as the state of our nation. Though I have my own faith community, I have also visited other churches in town. Having been to Grace Episcopal Church on a number of occasions, I felt that this would be the most beneficial church for me to visit. I knew that because of the prayers they pray, the music they sing, and the work they do on the city streets, this would likely be the place for me to find some respite in light of distressing national news. I hoped that it would be a place for me to settle my mind and spirit; a place to pray and contemplate; a place to hear a word of hope and encouragement.

Grace Notes

On Sunday morning, I headed over to Grace Church. I was not disappointed. The Anglo-Catholic liturgy, music, and prayers provided the space to settle. The homily, delivered by the Rev. Robyn Arnold, gave acknowledgement to the political distress that I felt. She stated as she began her Sunday message that her parishioners understood that she seldom spoke politically from the pulpit. Nevertheless, she felt the need to address the events of the past week. Because she spoke from the heart to the heart, I found her message to be more pastoral than political. 

I left with an encouragement that I can carry on and perhaps even do this hard thing that may be called for in the days ahead. Moreover, I was reminded that we can be faithful witnesses even in the small things we do right where we are and that can make a real difference.

I jotted down a few sermon notes on the service leaflet. In the margin beside the parish prayer requests there was enough space to write . Here is what I walked away with from the homily:

 
Remember who you are.  You are created by God and made in God's image.

Realize that anger  leads to hate and that hate will eat you up on the inside. It is possible to “be angry and sin not,” so take care not to let hate take control.

In the Gospel reading for the day, Jesus said that “it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person, but it is what comes out of the mouth that defiles." (Matthew 15:11)

Bishop Desmond Tutu said, “Do your little bit of good where you are; it's those little bits of good put together that overwhelm the world.”

We must remember that God is love and therefore trust in God’s love.

We must respond to hatred and injustice, but that response will differ with different people: some will respond publicly to oppose injustice, hate, and greed; others will respond more quietly to do small things in love right where they are.

We are to be Christ in the world at every opportunity.

We are called to show the peace of Christ in our words and in the work of our hands.

Benediction

The other thing I like about attending Grace Episcopal Church is that as I drive back home, I can listen to “A Writer’s Almanac” on NPR. I get to hear Garrison Keillor tell about literary milestones for this day in history and then share a poem. On this day, the words he always closes with were a particularly appropriate benediction:

“Be well, do good work, and keep in touch.”

And then the road home, to carry on tomorrow.

_________________________

Photo taken from the website for Grace Episcopal Church


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Missing the Voice of the Turtle Dove

I’ve been missing my doves this summer. For the past three summers, there has been a pair of ringed turtle-doves nesting nearby. We often have mourning doves in the area, but when these showed up three summers ago, I was pleased with this lighter colored bird with a quite distinctive voice, kind of a rising and falling koo-kreee. I had wrongly identified it at first, thinking it was a white-winged dove, until I did some research and found that the white-winged dove’s habitat is in the west.

When the doves first appeared, it was during a particularly trying time. I was always pleased when I was outside and heard the dove’s call as she flew. I took heart when I would look up and see her perched up in the top of the cypress tree. The dove's presence was a cheerful reminder that its not dark yet. After that, two more summers came and heralded the arrival of the doves. This summer I have not seen or heard any sign of the doves.

We take what graces life offers. I was glad to have that pair of doves when they were here, but things change. Nothing can be forever the same, or life would grow stagnant. New graces appear along with new challenges. We take the bad with the good. I have much to be thankful for this summer. My response, then, is to live with gratitude and to look for life’s graces as they unfold with each new day.

Maybe one reason I had mistaken that dove for a white-winged dove was the riveting sound of Stevie Nicks’ song “Edge of Seventeen.” Music is certainly a gift and a grace, and that is one song that has delighted the airwaves ever since it hit the charts back in 1982.