The Selma Pilgrimage is set to embark on Tuesday morning, March 8th, at 7:00 am. A group of East Tennessee Episcopalians will gather outside St. Martin of Tours Episcopal Church, Chattanooga to board their bus to Selma. As we reflect on each stage of this journey, we will share photos from different stops and reflection videos from various participants below.

Photos

Tag along with the pilgrims through photos throughout the pilgrimage. You can also view the photo album directly on Facebook.

Selma Pilgrimage 2022

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Videos

Written Reflections

Pilgrimage to Selma
By Alice Smith

My heart broke at the sight
of windows boarded…
shops empty…
streets deserted…
parking aplenty…

This run-down little town
whose famous Bloody Sunday
is part of southern history
was filled with people
telling stories,
painting promise,
turning worry into wonder
and heartache into hope.

It’s a loving work in progress
tearing off the scabs
and building back the broken,
but I could see it happening
before my very eyes.

On the third day I rose
and dined with WeKandodis,
a bald, Black angel
armed with loving kindness
and filled with fearlessness.

She changed her name to WeKandodis
because she knows that WeCanDoThis.

We bid our fond farewells
and headed out of town.

Leaving Selma, I saw redbuds
bursting into bloom,
and my heart that entered broken
left blossoming with hope.

View from the Bridge Tender’s House
by Kemmer Anderson

“The arc of the moral universe is long,
but it bends toward justice.” Martin Luther King 

At the broken foundation of the old bridge
Across the Alabama River, I eye the bending
Metal arch over the Edmund Pettus Bridge:
Listening for the echoed soles walked, worn
On the beaten path toward the right to vote.

So too the bridge of the Spirit bends us toward
Freedom waiting for something more than words.
I feel the hand of John Lewis pressing again on my
Right shoulder aiming this pen toward a journey
Of nonviolence to places I do not want to go.

Up river to the source, morning winds urge
To cross over the river to those waving hands
Of saints, witnesses calling us forward
To hear their story, bending our soul toward
Justice into the whirl of history here in Selma.

Overlooking the Bridge at Selma
By Arthur Stewart

On the tour a guy told us
this was the place
all that stuff came down:
right here,
at the bridge

and horse hooves clapped
steps at the entrance to the Tabernacle church.

Back then things

in Selma seemed so seamless, at first.
But the seam was there
under the dark currents
and it ripped open.

The speaker, a hefty guy,
said he marched then
as a student and was
several times
beaten, taken to jail,
blood all over.

This morning the river’s surface
ruffles slightly under a slight breeze;
it takes so little
to unsettle a river’s surface.
Along the banks
under the morning sun
counter currents
evidenced by fine debris
floating, moving
the wrong way; the slicks
edge upstream, casually
in silence.

At night back then
when the Klansmen were about
horns blew:
get down, be safe, they’re out.

John Lewis and 16 others
got the crap beat out of them
on the bridge, with

billy clubs      whips       cattle prods
on bloody Sunday, as they tried
to go over: trying, they tried hard
to make a wrong thing right.

The bridge spans the river:
a steel central arch, concrete
side arches; the bridge lets
traffic flow over
and water flow under.

Selma is broken; lost,
struggling to rise.
When we leave at last

the bridge

reflects
from the smooth surface of the water;
the water

still moves.

Journal of the Journey

Tuesday, March 8

7:30 am, St. Martin of Tours Parking Lot, Chattanooga – In the early hours of the morning, 30 pilgrims gathered to board the coach to begin their pilgrimage to Selma, Alabama. With breakfast in hand and cheerful hearts (and some sleepy minds), the pilgrims, headed by Rev. Robert Childers, Bishop Brian Cole, and Nicole Seiferth, embarked upon their journey to encounter the birthplace of the Civil Rights movement.

11:00 am, 5 and Dime, Selma – The pilgrims have arrived at the 5 and Dime, a large former Woolworth’s building on Broad Street (Selma’s main street), only two blocks from the Edmund Pettus Bridge, that has now become a community art center and loft apartment complex. The walls are lined with artwork by AC Reeves. Cyanotypes and mixed media compositions by Reeves encircle artwork by featured artist Timothy M Joe. Mismatched chairs and tables clutter the room, imbuing the scene with a sense of eclectic egalitarianism. The back wall is painted with a globe, hearts dot the surface, but a concentration of hearts hovers over the Southeast of the United States. Love across the nation coalesces around a southern heart. These southern hearts are gathering now in this southern space to tackle a beautiful, complex, and flawed southern history.

After lunch, 5 and Dime – AC mounts a tall ladder, an appropriate artist’s pulpit, to orient the pilgrims to the landscape of Selma in sweeping and pointed terms. Selma is a place of the past, evidenced by the perpetual, gentile decay reminiscent of more southern destinations such as New Orleans. But it is a place of progress and the future, AC points out. As Rev. Robert Childers points out, it is a ground zero of sorts, a place of death and resurrection, a place of conversation and scales falling from eyes. The scene and tone has been set for the pilgrims as they venture forth to their first destination, Tabernacle Baptist Church.

1:00 pm, Tabernacle Baptist Church, Selma – Despite pouring rain, the pilgrims boarded the bus for a short ride down Broad Street to Tabernacle Baptist Church. There they were greeted warmly by members of the Legacy Foundation of Tabernacle Baptist Church, two members of which, Dr. Verdell Lett Dawson and Mr. Kirk Carrington, presented an historical narrative, socio-political context, and future plans of the community and building of Tabernacle Baptist Church. Approaching the historic building was curious as the architecture’s most prominent and unique feature is two identical front doors, each on one whole side of the buidling, one on Broad Street and one on Minter Avenue. The purpose of which was to facilitate a separate but equal entryway for white and black congregants. The presentation was concluded by a prayer by one of the pilgrims, Rev. Pam Richmond, Associate Minister of Grace Point Church, Chattanooga. From there, pilgrims quickly stopped by a small gift shop and boarded the bus for their next destination, the Old Depot Museum, with a quick pause in front of Brown Chapel AME Church, which was closed due to renovations.

3:00 pm, Old Depot Museum, Selma – If there was a one-stop shop for all things Selma artifacts, then the Old Depot Museum surely met the requirements. Passing large outdoor artifacts ranging from stone memorials to an industrial metal lathe, Pilgrims filed into a graciously spacious, yet well stocked museum of artifacts ranging from Selma’s founding to modern day memorabilia. The museum’s curated, Bess Spivey, was a humorous and welcoming host. The walls of the museum teemed with pictures, artifacts, documents, clothing, and more. It was well noted that Bro. Andrew, being quite curious, went to the haunted basement, and was rewarded well for his curiosity. The tour was concluded in time for closing.

End of Day, St. James Hotel, Selma – To end their day, the pilgrims unloaded the bus and headed for their rooms at the St. James Hotel, an historic hotel located one block away from the Edmund Pettus Bridge. Built in 1837, the three story structure recalls New Orleans French Quarter architecture with iconic Spanish cast iron galleries on the outside with a tropical planted courtyard inside. After a delicious meal from the hotel’s kitchen, pilgrims retired to their rooms to rest up for an even busier day ahead.

Wednesday, March 9

Morning, St. James Hotel, Selma – The pilgrims awoke to their first full day in Selma. Rainy skies cleared as sleepy heads shuffled to a breakfast bar in the hotel lounge. As breakfast wound to a close, pilgrims boarded the coach to head to the Jackson family home.

9:45 am, Jackson Home, Selma – Soon after an introduction to the historical significance of the Jackson Home by AC Reeves, the pilgrims were surprised by none other than Jawana Jackson, daughter of Dr. Sullivan and Richie Jean Sherrod Jackson. Her family hosted Martin Luther King Jr. during his visits to Selma and, notably, on the day he witnessed President Lyndon B. Johnson announce the Voting Rights Act.

11:30, 5 and Dime, Selam – From there, pilgrims headed to the 5 and Dime to hear Joyce Parrish O’Neal present about growing up in the Jim Crow South, protesting for civil rights, and her love of Harry Belefonte and Sidney Poitier.

12:00 pm, St. Paul’s, Selma – A soup and salad lunch awaited the now hungry crew of pilgrims at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, conveniently located behind the 5 and Dime. There they heard Rev. Robert Childers speak about growing up at St. Paul’s and the role the parish played in his formation. A Eucharist in the traditional of the Coventry Reconciliation service was held in the parish chapel after the lunch to mark the midway point of the pilgrimage. An informal lecture-presentation was presented afterwards by Rev. Robert Childers, AC Reeves, and the Rev. Henry Hudson on the significance of the events around St. Paul’s and their history with racial reconciliation.

2:30 pm – After a brief respite at the 5 and Dime, pilgrims boarded the coach once more to see the Old Live Oak Cemetery for a brief walk amongst the graves of historical figures of Selma’s history. The bus then proceeded to Gallery 905 and the gallery of Charlie “Tin Man” Lucas where pilgrims were offered the opportunity to see contemporary local art for sale.

6:30 pm, Tally Ho Restaurant, Selma – Douglas, the trusty coach driver, whisked the pilgrims to the edge of town to the Tally Ho restaurant where a tasty meal for all was held. Upon returning to the St. James Hotel, the now tired pilgrims all shuffled to their rooms to rest for yet another day of deep, engaging experience of Civil Rights in the South.

Thursday, March 10 

Morning, St. James Hotel, Selma – Pilgrims arose less bright eyed than the previous day. The St. James Hotel repeated the same popular breakfast from the day before, energizing the pilgrims for a more intense day of sensory and emotional experience.

9:00 am, By the River Center for Humanity, Selma – Pilgrims walked a short distance to the By the River Center for Humanity for a special experiential presentation by Afriye WeKandodis. After a stunning and profound experience during the presentation, pilgrims, with opened hearts and minds, engaged in a lecture-dialog with Afriye WeKandodis. Words are inadequate in describing the experience, but the pilgrims were clearly moved by the experience, setting the tone for the experience ahead at the EJI Legacy Museum.

11:00 am, Edmund Pettus Bridge, Selma – After the By the River Center for Humanity, pilgrims were invited to walk across the Edmund Pettus Bridge at their own pace to meet the coach on the other side of the river. From there, the pilgrims headed to Montgomery.

12:00 pm, EJI Legacy Museum, Montgomery – The pilgrims arrived at the new Equal Justice Initiative Legacy Museum. Serendipitously, the Church Pension Group trustees had arrived on their tour as well. Bishop Brian Cole was delighted to reunite with Austin Rios, Rector of St. Paul’s with the Walls, Rome. Lunch was available from Pannie-George’s cafe, a cafeteria attached to the museum featuring classic southern faire. As pilgrims finished their meals, they entered the multi-media, multi-sensory, interactive museum featuring the various stages of racial injustice throughout United States history up to present day. The museum tour included a trip to the National Memorial for Peace and Justice. The writer will refrain from attempting to capture the absolute profundity of these experiences. After visiting the two campuses, pilgrims were free to meander for a dinner of their choice, returning to the Legacy Museum in time to board the coach back to Selma.

7:30 pm, Mid-Transit on Coach back to Selma – First dad joke from Bishop Brian. We almost made it through the whole trip!

7:45 pm, Selma, Bridge Park – Rev. Robert Childers gathered the pilgrims at the foot of the Edmund Pettus Bridge for a candle light prayer service. Pilgrims passed the candle light from their Coventry Community of the Cross of Nails candles before reciting the litany of reconciliation. John Wiggal and Alvin Blount led the group in singing “I want Jesus to walk with me.” After a few brief thoughts from the pilgrims and invitations from Bishop Brian Cole and Sandra Alagona, the pilgrims returned to the St. James Hotel for their final stay.

Church of the Ascension, Knoxville and the diocesan Task Force for Becoming Beloved Community hosted a panel discussion with Ms. Sylvia Peters, Mr. Glenn Bowden, and Ms. Sinead Doherty on Sunday, March 7th, 2021

On August 9, I joined a group of people traveling from St. Timothy’s Signal Mountain to Montgomery, Selma, and Hayneville, Alabama.  The main focus of our journey was the Jonathan Myrick Daniels Pilgrimage in Hayneville the second day.  In Montgomery, we planned to visit the Peace and Justice Memorial and the Legacy Museum.

We arrived in Montgomery at about 2:00 Friday and our first stop was the Memorial which is also called the lynching museum.  From 1877 to 1950, there were more than 4400 lynchings in twelve states.  The design of the Memorial is such that each county in which those lynchings took place is represented by a steel column.  The names of the victims and the date they were lynched is inscribed on those columns.

When I was reading about the Memorial, I saw pictures showing how the columns begin at ground level and, as one walks through, the floor drops down and pretty soon the columns are hanging in the air.  Frankly, I expected this sense of being surrounded by lynching to be the key experience for me.  It was not, though, perhaps because I was expecting it.  What slowed me down, and sometimes stopped me moving at all, was the need to read all of the names, to acknowledge these persons and the date and place when their lives were taken.  Sometimes, there was only one name and the print was large; sometimes, the names were many and the print had to be smaller to fit them all on the column. More than once, there were as many as six people lynched on a single day.  I found myself praying, nothing profound or worthy of the Book of Common Prayer but one-line prayers of sorrow and pain.

I will confess that I did not give the Legacy Museum the attention it deserved.  You see, by the time we arrived there, I was acutely aware that the heat of the day was a large part of the whole experience.  I was grouchy, having spent time without the creature comforts we take for granted.  I wanted a bottle of water and a cool room.  And then I realized that neither of those was available to the people we had come to honor.  Daniels and others who came South to help with voter registration did their work without air conditioning and probably didn’t always have water available.  For me, the heat and humidity – over 90° and 100% – became part of the reason I was there.

At the end of the afternoon, we joined others on pilgrimage for a Eucharist at the Church of the Good Shepherd, a historically Black church.  Again, the heat was oppressive, our clothes stuck to the pews and everyone was perspiring even as we sang and prayed.  And I remembered that even in my own parish church in Delaware, that was how worship in summer was.  Hot.

Saturday, we traveled to Hayneville to retrace the steps of Daniels, Ruby Sales, Richard Morrisroe and another woman.  They were arrested for joining a picket line and jailed in Hayneville.  On August 14, they were suddenly released, realizing that they were still in danger.  They walked to a nearby store to find something to drink.  As they approached the building, Tom Coleman came out of the store cursing them.  He was holding a shotgun and, as Daniels pushed Ruby out of the way, Coleman shot him. Morrisroe and the other woman started to run away and Morrisroe was shot in the back.  He was taken to a Birmingham hospital for several months of treatment and was there with us on our walk.

We ended the pilgrimage at the Courthouse where Coleman was tried and acquitted in thirty minutes. The current judge invited us to use the courtroom for our closing Eucharist.  A place of justice turned into a place of worship!  The judges bench became the altar, the choir sat in the jury box and the podium from which an attorney addresses the court became the pulpit.  It was a truly moving service during which several people rose to speak, many people martyred for civil rights in Alabama were remembered and we sang hymns of freedom and justice.

And what moved me that day wasn’t so much the walk or the service as it was the fact that the town of Hayneville and Lowndes County were two of the sponsors of our pilgrimage. Police blocked off the streets so we could make the walk, two local families offered lunch – the only place to eat was a gas station lunch counter – and the schools and the judge made breakfast for children from New York who were there for the pilgrimage.

We tend to keep places like Hayneville and Selma and even Montgomery in a kind of historical stasis, always remembering the terrible events that happened there and never thinking about what those towns are like now.  Both in Hayneville and in Selma where we visited St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, we learned that the people who live there have changed.  The events we remember are also remembered there but they have had to face some hard truths about how they came about and then make changes.

Jesus calls us to love who we are now.  I bought a t-shirt with the following Brian Stevenson quote on it: “Each of us is more than the worst thing we’ve ever done.”  We will never manage to change our own hearts if we won’t accept forgiveness for our wrongs. We can never forgive our neighbor if we continuously think of them only in terms of what they have done wrong.

But forgetting, wiping the memory clean, may well lead us to commit the same wrongs again. Hayneville hasn’t forgotten Jonathan Myrick Daniels and his companions but they have worked to make sure something like that won’t happen again.  They strive to change their hearts not their history.

I am old enough to remember when Jonathan Daniels was killed. I was just a child, but even then I vividly remember listening to the radio reports of this young Episcopalian seminarian who was shot at near point-blank range while in Alabama’s Black Belt helping African Americans there in their efforts to register to vote. I specifically remember turning to my parents and asking, “Why would they kill a minister?” My parents used the question to give me my first lesson on the moral corruption of the system of Jim Crow and segregation we as white Southerners were part of, and how it was our Christian duty to change it. From that moment on and through the years as I moved from youth to adulthood, I always looked upon Jon Daniels as my hero.

So when the Rev. Derrick Hill announced last year that he was organizing a group to attend the annual Jonathan Daniels Pilgrimage in Hayneville, Alabama, I was the first one to sign up. I’m not sure what I was expecting. What I got was something special. It was a holy experience to walk silently with my sisters and brothers in Christ of all races and all ages as we read from the Scriptures and prayed at the jail where Daniels was held, and then to the street corner where he was shot while shielding an African American teenager, and finally to the courtroom where Daniels’ killer was acquitted in a sham trial. Throughout it all, there was a wondrous sense of joy – joy in cherishing Daniels’ short but storied life, joy in realizing that his dream, and the dream of all who died in the Civil Rights struggle, continues and that it is our duty to work and fight for the rights of the oppressed and the marginalized.

In the courtroom we continued that joy with the Holy Eucharist. Before we received the elements, the names of all the martyrs of the Alabama Civil Rights struggle were read, and as they were called out, a volunteer holding a photograph of the person, answered “here.” They were all there with us. In our Creed, we talk about the “communion of saints.” Well, on that hot day in Alabama’s Black Belt, I had communion with Jonathan Daniels. He called on me and everyone there to work harder to live out our baptismal covenant to spread the love – the joy – of Christ.

My colleagues and friends, I wish you the joy of a purposeful life. I wish you new worlds and the vision to see them. I wish you the decency and the nobility of which you are capable. These will come, with the maturity which it is now our job to acquire on far-flung fields. The only thing that we can do at this time – is to “greet the unseen with a cheer.” GOODBYE. – Closing words of Jonathan Myrick Daniels’ valedictorian address at Virginia Military Academy in 1961.

It is hard to put into words the reason I decided to go the 1,000 Minister March in Washington, DC. I am not usually the “marching” kind of person, in fact, my family was pretty surprised.  But there was something in me that rose up, sickened and saddened by the theological implications of happenings in our world today. I cannot believe that God is happy with us.

The Christian message has been lost in a sea of secular voices, but, most importantly it has been abandoned by those who have been ordained by God to proclaim it to ALL people. Read the Gospels! Jesus does not hate or condemn- Jesus loves- and that is what our little group from East Tennessee was trying to embody.  We talked, we took pictures with total strangers, we met friends whom we had known along the way, and we made new friends, We laughed, we cried, we sang, we clapped and we marched.  In a city that is the heart of this nation, we came together with others to say that our heart is breaking for our brothers and sisters who don’t have the same advantages that we do.

I wanted to go to the Ministers’ March to stand up as an Episcopal priest with kindred souls of all varieties to say that this is not the way I believe Jesus calls us to act. We are all God’s children and we should respect each other as brothers and sisters in this world.  We are called to “seek to serve Christ in all persons loving our neighbors as ourselves” …and to “respect the dignity of every human being.”

When I am in Washington, I am always in awe of the visible history that surrounds me, and this time I felt a part of it.  It was an amazing time of feeling the closeness of God in the presence of more than 3,000 clergy people of all faiths and denominations as we walked the streets of Washington, D.C. past the monuments of power and wonder. I was proud to be able to carry the Episcopal flag because, despite the fact that we don’t always get things right, there are those incredible moments when we do!  I cherish the Episcopal Church and our church family in the Diocese of East Tennessee. I look forward to the ways we can work to bring about justice for all people back in our hometowns,  I give thanks for those who made the journey with me. One day I hope that someone will tell my grand-daughter, Taylor, why I did it.

The journey was long
The day dawned with a chill.
Likened spirits gathered
Perfect weather, they said, unseasonable for this time of year.
Last week it was a hundred degrees in the shade.
Today is perfect for a walk or a march.
The sun glistened
A sight breeze filled the air
and people were everywhere.
We were in the heart of our country
where the heartbeat was steady and smooth.
Now the heart beat erratically
threatening the body.
The concrete soldiers seemed like the weights they carried were doubled.

All American Boys, by Jason Reynolds and Brenden Kiely

Last September, St. Thomas Episcopal Church (Christiansburg, Diocese of Southwestern Virginia) sponsored an allyship workshop.  While I wasn’t totally clear about what allyship is, this sounded like something I needed to learn.

Taught by Whitney Parnell, the CEO of Service Never Sleeps, this was a well spent six hours.  We talked about our privilege that is so ingrained we aren’t aware of it.  Some of the exercises we did made it clear how being white – and also, for those gathered, well educated – had opened doors we assumed were open to everyone.  We learned ways to turn bigoted conversation toward a more open viewpoint.  We also practiced stepping in when we see someone of color being berated or ignored simply due to their not being white.

Many of you may have seen a video of a women accusing a ten year old boy of grabbing her in a convenience store.  Instantly, this woman began screaming and called the police.  Another woman, white like the accuser, stepped in to defend the child.  That’s allyship.

Most of us won’t be in that kind of situation.  Rather when we see a customer being ignored and passed over, we can step in and say, “I think this gentleman was next in line.”  That’s allyship.  Stopping someone from running another person down is allyship.  Offering to stand with a brother or sister in a situation where he our she is clearly in the minority is allyship.

Allyship is a good skill for all of us to learn.  But once we learn it, we have to practice it until, one day, it is just a part of how we love our neighbor.

For more visit https://www.oneinmission.org/blog/allyship-training

The summer of 2016 I received a list of books I would be required to read as a mentor for Sewanee’s “Finding Your Place” program. This list included an almost brand-new book at the time called Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates. Like most required reading books, I read it without much enthusiasm, responded appropriately in a classroom setting, and didn’t go much past that. However this time my lack of enthusiasm towards the book was not because I was busy or because I was apathetic towards the subject. This book made me uncomfortable.

Between the World and Me is written as a letter to Coates’ fifteen year old son, Samori, in which Coates very matter of factly speaks about the realities of racism in America today, not because Samori is not aware of this reality or so that he can do something to change it, but instead so that he will “be a conscious citizen of this terrible and beautiful world.” Coates’ picture of racism in America is painted through stories of his own experiences, especially at Howard University and the story of his friend, Prince Jones, who was killed by a police officer on the way to visit his fiancée.

Though this book was written in a voice directed at fifteen year old Samori, I would argue that it really isn’t written for him. It is written for people like me, a straight, white, middle class, Christian woman. It is written to make me uncomfortable. It is written so that I feel something that makes me want to change the realities of racism in America.

This book is a very quick read, only 176 pages in print or 3 hours and 35 minutes on audiobook, but during that quick read (or listen) you will likely find something that strikes home for you that drives you to do something to make this world more beautiful and less terrible.The first step towards change is awareness. This book is that step. It will make you uncomfortable. It will make you upset. But it will also make you more prepared to be a “conscious citizen of this terrible and beautiful world.”

EMANUEL is a documentary by executive producers Stephen Curry and Viola Davis

Emanuel made a limited appearance (in June 2019, on the fourth anniversary of the highlighted event) but based on the reviews I’ve read and the reaction of those who’ve seen it, it will certainly be streaming on some device or app soon.  This is more than a must-see for everyone teenager+, it’s a story that deserves to be pondered and discussed within the church, outside the church, crossing community and cultural divides.

Few, if any, visits to a movie theater have affected me so vehemently as EMANUEL, which marks the fourth anniversary of the tragic slaying of nine people inside the Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, South Carolina.  As credits finished rolling and lights came up no one spoke or moved.  Emotions felt thick. I think it’s because the story was so much more than any of us expected.

It was not just about the senseless murder, the subsequent arrest, judicial proceedings, and public outcry which we all witnessed via various news media.  This documentary chronicled Charleston’s historical, cultural and economic role since the beginning of slave trade through present day events.  Pure evil juxtaposed with truth and forgiveness.

These were not actors; these were not re-enactments. These are the stories that never seemed to make it to media coverage.  These are real interviews with survivors and family of survivors.  This is their story, their heartbreak, their truth, and for some, their forgiveness. My recollection from four years ago was that the families all forgave the killer and did it rather unanimously. The truth is haunting, thought-provoking and unexpected.  The Holy Spirit moves in such unimaginable ways!  If the words of the teenage baseball player whose mother was murdered do not bring you to your knees, they will surely bring you to tears.  And you will most certainly empathize with those not yet able to forgive.

A week later, and I’m still thinking about it.  The parts that made me uncomfortable, those that angered me, shamed me, challenged me.  Questions I have; some have answers, some don’t.

It’s a powerful story…. powerful.

See Movie Trailer HERE

Sojourner’s Discussion Guide HERE

I Am Not Your Negro by James Baldwin

James Baldwin framed his last work, Remember This House, as a tribute to his three friends and significant figures of the civil rights movement: Malcolm X, Martin Luther King, Jr., and Medgar Evers. I Am Not Your Negro stands as a well-honed projection by director Raoul Peck of how Baldwin would have completed the work. In this posthumous work, James Baldwin is one of the key figures, a fourth wheel, if you will, of the vehicle of civil rights.  Throughout the film, the four figures act as counterpoint in the overall work of the civil rights movement in the mid-20th century. Baldwin demonstrates how these seemingly divergent figures with different methods converged towards a more synchronous movement.

Throughout the film, varying sequences of clips are juxtaposed, calling out the hypocrisy of whitewashed America against a backdrop of injustice and inequality. It is not just the black population that is of concern to Baldwin, it is all BIPOC (black, indigenous, and people of color). Clips from across the history of the United States of America, from ads for the sale of slaves in the 19th century and John Wayne western films to the killing of black teenagers and young adults as recently as 2014 are scattered throughout Baldwin’s narration. I am left with the questions, “Have we, have I, progressed at all?” and “What violence do we, let alone myself, engender in our blind romanitcization of the past?”

As a musician and performer, the subtle underscoring of the film, resting on period and contemporary music, is profoundly effective. The most acute of selections, though, is Dudley Randall’s “Ballad of Birmingham” sung by a female voice. If you do not know this poem, please read it in its entirety. Baldwin’s questioning of the ownership of the black body in America resonates with me as a performer. I wonder, “shall the black body dance and sing to ensure us of our false benevolence, our performative progressivism, and our inner delusions of a perfect society outside the doors of our homes?”

In the end, Baldwin asks a critical question not just for his time, but for our time and the entirety of the history of our culture, of our country. This is coupled with powerful and dignified photos of black people in our times after a sequence of old photos of black persons. Having seen such degradation of the black body throughout the film and as a photographer myself, it comes as joy to see the black body exalted at the end.

See Movie Trailer HERE

Kera Learn! Discussion Guide HERE

“The opposite of poverty is not wealth; the opposite of poverty is justice.”
– Bryan Stevenson

There has been a lot of talk about Justice in the Episcopal Church in the past few years. Perhaps an awakening to the distinctions between the exhortations of the Prophet Micah to “do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly before God.” (Micah 6:8)

We also live in a time where we are bombarded daily by news reports that seem to constantly rush from one outrage to another. It may seem difficult to know what’s up and what’s down. But through the din, we hear the ever strengthening cry of the poor, the victimized, the marginalized and oppressed. And it seems that we are now finally beginning to wake up to their reality that has been silenced and hidden by a culture that has preferred to pretend to walk a higher moral line than the rest of the world than to actually work to achieve it.

Such fantasy has not gone without a price, and those who have paid that price are the ones who have always paid, only the script and backdrop have changed to give the illusion that we’ve changed the American tune. But scratch the cheap paint off the surface, and you’ll find the putrid tomb still there, gleaming white-washed as ever.

In Just Mercy, Bryan Stevenson explores one aspect of our nation’s tragic history of injustice: the criminal justice system. This African-American lawyer retells dramatic examples of his own experiences while growing up in Delaware and Philadelphia, and while representing those wrongly accused sitting on Death Row. You will be given a glimpse of how the poor and powerless are treated by the power of a system that is supposed to seek “justice for all,” but only really renders justice for those who can afford it. Stevenson will upset you, and will give you hope that we can make a change for the better, if we stand up and do something about it.

Later in April (4/26-27) 2018, a group from East Tennessee is traveling to Montgomery Alabama for the opening of the National Memorial for Peace and Justice, commemorating the 4000+ known lynchings in the United States during and following Jim Crow. Congressman John Lewis, the Rev. William Barber, Michelle Alexander, former Vice President Al Gore, and Ava DeVernay will be among the speakers at this two day conference and celebration.

May God, “who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ.” – Philippians 1:6

Education is learning what you didn’t even know you didn’t know. —Daniel J. Boorstin, quoted by Debby Irving

“Learning what you didn’t even know you didn’t know” is a good description, both of the journey Debby Irving chronicles in Waking Up White: and Finding Myself in the Story or Race, and of the discoveries she invites her readers to make as they read along with her. As an administrator bringing arts to inner-city schools to help the “disadvantaged,” then a teacher herself, Irving was increasingly mystified by what she observed: “Looking for answers, I worked on diversity committees, went to diversity forums, and participated in outreach efforts to include and welcome students and families of color. The more I tried to understand and ‘help,’ the more confused I became. The fact that my efforts lacked traction mystified me. The persistent worrying about doing or saying something wrong perplexed me. Worst of all, over time I started to wonder if I might be doing more harm than good. Lurking in my consciousness was a haunting sense that I was missing something.”

Thus began Irving’s education about privilege, the combination of many factors that shapes each person’s world view and circumstances, and generates what Irving calls the “headwinds” or “tailwinds” we face in daily life. Surprised when she was invited to look first at her own cultural and racial identity, to become conscious of the elements in the “tailwind” that boosted her way in life, Irving begins to learn what she “didn’t even know [she] didn’t know.” We readers are offered the chance for our own education as Irving examines each component, with personal application/reflection questions at the end of her short chapters. The book is designed to work for group discussion or individual consideration, and to begin an education about privilege for those who want to grow their understanding of how racism works.

Waking Up White: and Finding Myself in the Story of Race, Debby Irving, Elephant Room Press, 2014, 288 pages.

White Awake: an honest look at what it means to be white by Daniel Hill arrived at the most opportune time.

During this racially fraught time in our national life, many church folk in the white community are seeking to understand the basis of racism and our part in it.  When such a challenge came to a study group I’m a part of, White Awake caught our attention.  Written by author/pastor/social activist Daniel Hill, it was published by InterVarsity Press in 2017 to wide acclaim. (Hill was a presenter at a July 1,2020 virtual town hall offered by Y CEOs entitled “Unlearning Systemic Racism.” His talk and others including Kamala Harris’ can be accessed at  https://www.ymca.net/unlearning.)  Hill is founding pastor in 2003 of River City Community church in Chicago which seeks to embody the Kingdom of God by furthering social and economic justice in the multiethnic Humboldt Park neighborhood.  His second book White Lies:Nine Ways to Expose and Resist the Racial Systems That Divide Us is available this month. Using his own difficult journey of discovering just how white his world was, White Awake invites readers to undertake a similar quest.  Hill shows how the lies of white supremacy are at complete odds with any notion of the Incarnational “image of God” imago dei manifested in all people.  Early chapters help readers discover how the unexamined normalization of whiteness becomes the judge of all other cultural identities. Hill describes how even our theological positions are defined in relation to whiteness. Then in ensuing chapters, he describes the seven stages we must undergo to make ourselves ready to be part of any solution: •Encounter •Denial •Disorientation •Shame •Self-righteousness •Awakening  •Active participation.  Each chapter is accompanied by deeply challenging questions which further engage readers. His bibliography includes well-regarded sources such as Beverly Tatum, Bryan Stephenson, and Robin D’Angelo.

Our study group has found the book to be as challenging as it is encouraging.  Hill reminds us that deeply rooted biblical challenges ask us to engage and examine cultural identity. After all, there’s a lot of blindness, bondage, rebirth and resurrection in our stories.

Brenda Neal

White Savior examines the origins of racism in America from our founding and colonialization to the present, with a focus on racism within the American church. What I like about this resource is two main things: How it’s divided into six chapters of about ten minutes each, and how it does not shy away from shining a light on some of the less desirable historical facts of the founding of the American church that many of us that we would like to ignore. Its chapters are divided into:

Chapter 1: What is Race?
Chapter 2: The Bible and Race
Chapter 3: Anti-Blackness in the United States
Chapter 4: Erasing Native Voices
Chapter 5: Intersectionality of Oppression
Chapter 6: Christianity in Black and White

Available on Amazon Prime Video and from Sparkhouse Productions

Additional summary of the video at Medium