Reconciliation Blues, Part I

This post begins a series that will offer a book review and analysis of Ed Gilbreath's Reconciliation Blues: A Black Evangelical's Inside View of White Christianity. I've commented about Ed's fabulous blog here, and I look forward to fruitful engagement and constructive conversation with his important book.

It is important to point out, as Ed helpfully explains in the Prologue, and chapters 1-3 and 5, that he made a decision to stay within "white Christianity," that is live, work, and worship in largely Anglo evangelical institutions. He describes attending a white church/Sunday school early in life, attending a largely white evangelical college, and working as the first black editor at Christianity today.

"I hope to give you a glimpse of what it means to be black and evangelical," Gilbreath writes in the Prologue, "My hope is that this inside perspective on what I regrettably call 'white Christianity' can help both blacks and whites get a better sense of the condition of our racial reconciliation and the distance we need to travel to make it more authentic and true....[t]hat's why reconciliation blues isnt' just a sob story; it's a call to action. The good news is that, despite our frequent missteps, the church is the one institution that's best equipped to overcome the racial divide" (p. 19-21). [Gilbreath is keen to acknowledge multicultural America, but writes out of the primary range of his experiences, black-white relations.]

Gilbreath's aim is a critical point white readers must neither overlook nor take lightly. White folks rarely realize they are white, and don't see that projecting race onto others makes them "raced" beings as well. What am I saying here? Black folks know white folks better than white folks know themselves. Who is willing to admit this? Who actually believes this and is willing to sit silent and learn? (Read more of what I'm talking about here.)

This is a crucial point to make, and represents, in one sense, the signal gift of this book. Gilbreath privileges white readers with an "inside view of white Christianity." Here I'm reminded, once again, of the words of James Baldwin in No Name in the Street (1972): "Actually, black people have known the truth about white people for a long time, but now there is no longer any way for the truth to be hidden. The whole world knows it. The truth which frees black people will also free white people, but this is a truth which white people find very difficult to swallow."

Again, who is willing to admit this? Who actually believes this? Who will take such a posture of listening?

Up next: chapel at Judson and listening to Tom Skinner.

Milestones and Modalities

Well, I turned 30 yesterday. A milestone, and now a perspective from a new modality. I've entered a new decade. Had a great time with friends and family, and their presence, to me, was the gift. I did get several other gifts, including The Bible Experience. It is interesting to hear familiar voices in a whole new context -- reading the New Testament.

In addition to working on my dissertation, I've been reading some W.E.B. Du Bois, mostly inspired by the work of Edward J. Blum. Blum teaches at San Diego State University and has a very impressive arrary of projects completed, underway, and in the works.

I'm looking forward to his biography of Du Bois, out next month with University of Pennsylvania Press, and his article on Du Bois's relationship to and with Christianity is, I hope, a taste of things to come.

Blum also alerted me to a collection of prayers by Du Bois, published in 1980 (17 years after Du Bois's death) under the title Prayers for Dark People. I've been reading through them, thinking not only about the times and places that inspired these reflections, but about their resonance with and application for contemporary times.

Here's a sample, composed on one Christmas day during Du Bois's lifetime:

"O Thou Incarnate Word of God to man, make us this Christmas night to realize Thy truth: we are not Christians because we profess Thy name and celebrate the ceremonies and idly reiterate the prayers of the church, but only in so far as we really comprehend and follow the Christ spirit -- we must be poor and not rich, meek and not proud, merciful and not oppressors, peaceful and not warlike or quarrelsome. For the sake of the righteousness of our cause we must bow to persecution and reviling, and again and again turn the stricken cheek to the striker, and above all the cause of our neightbor must be to us dearer than our own cause. This is Christianity. God help us all to be Christians. Amen. Luke 2:8-14" (p. 63).

And Amen.

Will You Love Your Neighbor?

Jasie posted this video of Bono's acceptance speech for the Chairman's Award given by the NAACP.

It is evident to me that Bono understands the Christian gospel.

Darfur: New Books

Just a quick word about some forthcoming books on an important issue in an important place in important times:

John Prendergast and Don Cheadle, Not on Our Watch: The Mission to End Genocide in Darfur and Beyond.

Prendergast will be speaking in Houston on Monday. I'll report on it later. In the meantime, read more about Prendergast here, here, and here.

Journalist Eric Reeves will publish A Long Day's Dying: Critical Moments in the Darfur Genocide soon. Find out more here and read the Preface by John Prendergast.


Though published, here is another important book on Rwanda and Sudan.

All About Books

Rod Garvin tagged me back in August, and so here are my responses -- finally:

One book that changed your life: Jim Marrs’s Crossfire:The Plot that Killed Kennedy. While some call Marrs’ work “conspiracy theory,” I read this book as a high school senior because I wanted to know more about the Kennedy Assassination. I wasn’t satisfied with the “official” story. Reading this book whet my appetitie for the inquisitive historical investigation to which I’ve devoted my professional life. Looking back eleven years later, it also oriented me to begin to read history from alternative vantage points, what you might call history from below.

One book you've read more than once: Neil Postman’s Amusing Ourselevs to Death. The late Neil Postman helped me to better understand the powerful role media shapes and influences both individual and collective thought. I’ve never watched television the same since.

One book you'd want on a desert island, besides the Bible: James Baldwin’s Collected Essays, edited by Toni Morrison. This is what I’d call my “Baldwin Bible.” Reading James Baldwin I’ve discovered he knows me better than I know myself, many times, and his pointed honesty calls me to be more authentic.

One book that made you laugh: Anything related to The Far Side by Gary Larson and Paul Lewis’s Cracking Up: American Humor in a Time of Conflict. I’m chuckling even as I write.

One book that made you cry: Timothy Tyson’s Blood Done Sign My Name. This powerful story of racial violence brought me to tears, while the redemptive end to the book prompted me to sob with hope.

One book you wish had been written: A solid social and cultural history, an ethnographic study of contemporary megachurch ministers – a book I’m working on right now with a fellow scholar. Also, a book that offers a template for race reconciliation that follows the traditional Christian year (Lent, Pentecost, Advent, etc.) – a book a friend and I are working on.

One book you wish had never been written: Hmmm…..I’ll have to think about this one.

One book that you've been meaning to read: Charles Marsh’s The Beloved Community: How Faith Shapes Social Justice, from the Civil Rights Movement to Today. I've browsed some parts of it, but need to read it more closely.

One book that you are currently reading: Richard A. Horsley, Jesus and Empire: The Kingdom of God and the New World Disorder.

Alright, Jasie and LK, you are now it!

Remembering Emmett Till

In addition to an assignments on Martin Luther King, Jr. and Carter G. Woodson, and several other activities, during Black History Month (and at other times during the academic year) I spend some time talking about Emmett Till. Since I teach high school students, I find that Till's story hits my students in deep and profound ways since they are around the age Till was when he was brutally murdered in August 1955.

The screening of Keith Beauchamp's stunning documentary The Untold Story of Emmett Till coincided with my unit on Till last year, and a number of my students went to the screening and later wrote critical essays on the film for extra credit. (Read about another important documentary here.)

I'll be showing Beauchamp's documentary in my classes this year, and will use Christopher Metress's The Lynching of Emmett Till: A Documentary History to follow the story along through primary documents.

Here's a poem about Till, a great web resource and labor of love devoted to Till, and here Cornel West weighs in.

Till's blood still cries out for justice, and I hope my students will learn to listen. More later.

Western White Captivity of the Christian Church

On January 29, Soong-Chan Rah, the Milton B. Engebretson Assistant Professor of Church Growth & Evangelism at North Park Theological Seminary, spoke at Wheaton College's chapel service.

The title of his talk was "White Privilege," and out of Acts 15 he diagnosed the critical issue for the (evangelical) church -- western white captivity. Citing the demographic changes afoot in America and in the Christian church as a whole, Rah issued a critical wake-up call to those slumbering in the warm, cozy caves of Euro-American whiteness.

According to Rah, this white western captivity shows up in areas areas of biblical interpretation and understandings of the self and society, and thus, to borrow a phrase from Cornel West, adopt the "normative gaze" of white Euro-American culture.

The essence of the Christian message, Rah argued, is about reconciliation, restoration, and unity; the Cross reconciles division, restores dis-union, a draws all peoples together.

Listen here.

At his Xanga site Rah also mentions this about Urbana 2006:

"Easily, the most impressive talk I heard was by Pastor Oscar Muriu. Amazing. This talk is long, long overdue at a major mission conference. It's way past time to realize that "missions" in the 21st century is more likely to be the Christian South/East (i.e. Asia, Africa and Latin America) evangelizing the "mission field" of Europe and North America."

Rah then offers two quotes from Muriu:

1. "To drink from the cup of Western theology is to drink from a poisoned chalice."

2. "The African church knows that it needs the American church. How does the church in North America need the African church?"

Listen to Oscar Muriu's talk here. He is the pastor of Nairobi Chapel in Kenya.

I wish I heard more messages like this. I'm listening....

Musings

I waited with anticipaton to read his book and was not disappointed. In fact, I was humbled, challenged, and inspired. And now I can read more of Ed Gilbreath's thoughts on his new blog. Check it out.

Also, Tony Campolo has some fascinating thoughts on wealth, poverty, and faith. Read it, and read it again. (HT: Scot McKnight) In light of Campolo's thoughts, I'd also recommend Fr. Gary Smith's Radical Compassion: Finding Christ in the Heart of the Poor (Loyola Press, 2002). There is also an interesting on-line study guide for the book here.

Martin Luther King, Jr.

Anthony Smith has started a new series of weekend posts in anticipation of MLK Day. These petitions are creative and thoughtful, and something worthy of deep reflection.

Here's something else: I'm having students read MLK's Nobel Prize speech from 1964 in anticipation of Monday's discussion (yes, we are in school). For a world history class, this speech offers a way to reimagine MLK in the context of global history and therefore retain his voice's prophetic edge. Students will answer questions from this study guide in anticipation of Monday's discussion.

Read and listen to clips of the speech, which still addresses issues of injustice and empire in today's world.

I got the speech from the MLK Research and Education Institute at Stanford under the direction of Clayborne Carson.

The "Talking Book" Talks Back

Late last week I read an interesting op-ed by Washington Post journalist E.J. Dionne in my hometown newspaper.

Partly a review of Allen Dwight Callahan's recently published The Talking Book: African Americans and the Bible, a carefully researched and (if I may) in places poetically and powerfully written multidisciplinary analysis of how some African Americans have responded to, interpreted, lived out, criticized, and embraced various biblical texts, Dionne argues that via insights drawn from Callahan's book, folks would do well to remember that Jesus' birth signaled a revolutionary moment in history.

Dionne makes some interesting observations. For instance, he opens with: "Great traditions are subversive. They constantly call the imperfections of the present to account in the name of a more exalted standard." From here he suggests to readers that the nativity story annually disrupts "understandings of power and privilege." Dionne also quotes Callahan, such as when Callahan observes that the scripture "privileges those without privilege and honors those without honor," as well as the notion that the Bible "has a penchant for bringing peripheral people to the center of history."

Dionne ends by stating that Jesus spoke to "[t]he poor, the outcastes, [and] the slaves," who have responded to him throughout history. Earlier in the piece Dionne also takes shots at some on the far Left and far Right who each ignore the revolutionary witness Jesus bore.

"The African-American religious tradition is a blessing to all," Dionne's concluding sentence reads, "because it requires us to remember that Jesus of Nazareth really did revolutionize the world."

I applaud Dionne for such an important reminder. Yet, I still feel unsettled. For one, the totalizing statement "The African-American religious tradition" (italics mine) only generalizes and fails to capture the complexity of African American religious experiences across time and space. Perhaps this is just a historian's quibble, but it is important to state nonetheless. In the end, though, Dionne's op-ed reads as a polite liberal nod to what African Americans can teach about the life of Jesus.

Not only do some of the scripture readings Callahan highlights "require us to remember" the radicality of the nativity, but to act, to hope, to long, and to live the Advent revolution. This is where my criticism with Dionne lies. The op-ed's intellectual acuity subverts real solutions to the powers and principalities Jesus' life bore witness against. In other words, to quote bell hooks from her book Killing Rage: Ending Racism (1995, p. 185): "When liberal whites fail to understand how they can and/or do emobdy white supremacist values and beliefs even though they may not embrace racism as prejudice or domination (especially domination that involves coervice control), they cannot recognize the ways their actions support and affirm the very structure of racist domination and oppression that they profess to wish to see eradicated."

(For more on what the Advent revolution is, read this, this, and this. And for a reading of Jesus' life as revolutionary see Obery Hendricks' new book.)

Readers of this blog know what to expect at this point: a word from James Baldwin.

Today's thoughts come from a short piece that appeared Creative America in 1962 titled "The Creative Process." Baldwin describes the artist as one always "at war" with society, bearing witness to justice, peace, and equity, in fact very similar the the Hebrew prophets one reads about in the Old Testament. So, for Baldwin the artist lives in prophetic spaces. And those about whom Callahan writes in The Talking Book are artists, from James Albert Ukawsaw Gronniosaw in the 1770s to Tupac Shakur in the 1990s for example, who offer a better picture.

Yet the best artists -- those to whom Baldwin refers and those about whom Callahan writes -- are often provacative, bearing witness to (and against) realities in the past that shape present conditions, in this case the white supremacy upon which North Atlantic/American slavery rested and which still structures many things today. The artist paints a picture of the past that, if seen, can prophetically and constructively influence the present and shape the future.

Here's Baldwin: "We know, in the case of the person, that whoever cannot tell himself the truth about his past is trapped in it, is immobilized in the prison of his undiscovered self. This is also true of nations. We know how a person, in such a paralysis, is unable to assess either his weaknesses or his strengths, and how frequently indeed he mistakes one for the other. And this, I think, we do. We are the strongest nation in the western world, but this is not for the reasons that we think. It is because we have an opportunity which no other nation has of moving beyond the Old World concepts of race and class and caste, and create, finally, what we must have had in mind when we first began speaking of the New World. But the price for this is a long look backward when we came and an unflinching assessment of the record. For an artist, the record of that journey is most clearly revealed in the personalities of the people the journey produced. Societies never know it, but the war of an artist with his society is a lover's war, and he does, at his best, what lovers do, which is to reveal the beloved to himself, and with that revelation, make freedom real."

If you listen, the book talks back.

What's That I Hear?

Partly inspired by this post, and partly a result of my own interests, (and, I should say, thanks to a nice gift card from a student of mine) I picked up Matisyahu's new CD today titled No Place to Be. It was released on 12./26. There are 7 tracks along with a DVD that features interviews intersperced with footage from a live show in Israel.

I'm not a music critic, can neither sing nor play an instrument, but this music, to my ears and interests, is quite unique and resonates at deep levels. Hasidic. Jewish. Reggae. Hip Hop. Torah. Jerusalem. Shalom. Tikkun Olam.

It's music that comes from the heart, can shape the mind, and inspire and encourage the weary. In a certain way, Matisyahu is a kind of griot for those with ears to hear and eyes to see.

Playing the CD for my two young sons, ages 3 and 5, I remarked to my wife with a wry smile that this is "family friendly hip hop." They recognize some of the Old Testament stories and individuals (e.g., Joseph, Moses) that they've heard before, and they quite enjoy Matisyahu's amazing beatboxing abilities.

Enough said. Listen, enjoy, and offer your own thoughts.

Religion, the Spiritual Marketplace, and Other News

It is fashionable among some scholars to use the image, or metaphor, of a marketplace to describe the religious dynamics that exist in the United States. Producers compete for consumers while consumers seemingly make rational choices about which producer to affiliate with or buy into. Producers attempt to gain a market share by diversifying products, by recalibrating what they offer, all attuned to the tastes and preferences of consumers.

In this scenario, Joel Osteen is one of the savviest of the religious producers in America's religious marketplace, competing with fellow producers like Rick Warren, Joyce Meyer, T.D. Jakes, and so many others.

Most of you are no doubt familiar with Osteen's book, Your Best Life Now, a handbook to divine blessing organized around 7 life principles. Well, not only can you read the book, when hanging out with family over the holidays you can play your way to your best life now. That's right, it's the "Your Best Life Now: The Game."

For those who live in the religious marketplace, this is a brilliant move. To my knowledge, this is the only major preacher in American history who has had a book turned into a boardgame. I'd love to hear confirmation if this is actually the case. In a way, this validates the sociological work of Roger Finke and Rodney Stark, and exemplifies the perspective of R. Laurence Moore, among others.

In other news, the first book about Joel Osteen is due out soon. Written by Richard Young, it is titled The Rise of Lakewood Church and Joel Osteen. From news reports it sounds like a book that offers glowing praise for the man and the ministry; I'm not sure to what extent it sets Osteen in the context of American religious history and culture.

For more on that, I will soon unveil a project I'm working on with a sociologist at Tulane University....stay tuned.

Is Jesus Black?, Part 2

Well, "tomorrow" has arrived, though much later than expected.

After I returned from seeing The Color of the Cross a couple of weeks back, I reread Baldwin’s 1968 address to the World Council of Churches titled “White Racism or World Community?” The essay is poignantly sharp and prophetically accusatory, which is to say Baldwin’s critical comments contain a seed of hope, the possibility of redemption. Baldwin describes his life as a minister in The Fire Next Time and makes connection to this story in this essay. In my opinion, Baldwin’s prophetic voice resonates precisely because he left the church of his youth. Sometimes distance provides clarity, and deconversion sometimes results in faith. Such is the irony of life.

The operative dynamic in the essay is that of confrontation. Baldwin boldly confronts white supremacy in the church just as The Color of the Cross confronts the image, the aesthetics, in short the panopticon of a Euro-American Jesus.

Listen to Baldwin:
“Now it would seem to me that the nature of the confrontation, the actual historical confrontation between the non-white peoples of the world and the white peoples of the world, between the Christian Church and those people outside the Christian Church who are unable to conceive themselves as being equally the sons of God, the nature of that confrontation is involved with the nature of the experience which a black person represents vis-à-vis the Cross of Christ, and vis-à-vis that enormous structure which is called the Church….This has to do, of course, with the fact that though he was born in Nazareth under a very hot sun, and though we know that he spent his life between that sun, the Christ I was presented with was presented to me with blue eyes and blond hair, and all the virtues to which I, as a black man, was expected to aspired had, by definition, to be white. This may seems a very simple thing and from some points of view it might even seem to be a desirable thing. But in fact what it did was make me very early, make us, the blacks, very early distrust our own experience and refuse, in effect, to articulate that experience to the Christians who were our oppressors. That was a great loss for me, as a black man. I want to suggest that is was also a great loss for you, as white people” (pp. 753-54).

He goes on to interpret Jesus’ claim to be the Son of God as a “claim that was a revelation and a revolution because it means that we are all the sons of God” (p. 755).

Baldwin suggests first that a way forward is possible, though it will take a keen eye to see the panopticon and a bold resovle to risk confronting the ubiquity of a Euro-American Jesus. This, I think, is the kind of revelation Baldwin suggests could spark a revolution.

Is Jesus Black?, Part I

Is Jesus black? Is the son of God a person of African descent? A recent movie, The Color of the Cross, imagines – or rather argues – that Jesus is indeed black.

First brought to my attention by hip-hop intellectual and assistant professor of African American religion at UC-Riverside Jonathan Walton, I went to see this movie recently. It debuted on Friday, November 10. (For those not familiar with Walton’s work, you need to check it out. And you need to mull over his own thoughts about the movie.)

As I watched the movie, my mind went back and forth between what I’ve learned from my reading of James Cone and my deep interest in James Baldwin, two writers who each in their own way interrogates, deconstructs, and ultimately rejects conventional North American/Western images of a Euro-American Jesus. (My comrade Anthony Smith describes the white aesthetic of the Western Jesus as a panopticon and offers reflections here.) Cone makes a profound and compelling theological case borne out of his early life experiences in the American South, while Baldwin muses about the topic in reflections on the vicissitudes of life as a black man in mid-twentieth century America. Similarly, the music of Hasidic reggae artist Matisyahu (and here) offers its own critique of society, with redemptive dimensions that pulsate through the beats and emerge poetically through the rhymes.

It is obvious – or is it? – that a movie such as The Color of the Cross would resituate Jesus of Nazareth as a “Black Jew” and therefore offer cinematic commentary on first-century Palestinian society. A laborer from the margins of Palestinian society who spoke funny, who claimed to be the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecy, who claimed to be God? It is also clear that in 21st century North American society such a film would interrogate the white supremacist structures of American society, and in particular the panopticon of many North American churches. To my knowledge no white church rented out theatres for their parishioners to see the movie, no white churches have screened the film in their churches and hosted discussions about what it can teach about Jesus’ life. Sadly, I’m afraid that such a response suggests that most white churches lack the humility to listen and will therefore lose an important opportunity to enact Jesus’ redemptive message and life. Pardon the pun, but in a year’s time, “the Passion” has subsided. Remember the fury and flurry of interest over Mel Gibson’s film?

The silence of the white evangelical community about this film attests to the prophetic power the movie contains. Do they (we) have eyes to see and ears to hear?

Tune in tomorrow to hear James Baldwin speak to these issues.

WWJD?: A Meditation on Redemption, Suffering, and Community

Driving to the library to do research on Tuesday afternoon, I heard a story on NPR's All Things Considered about the shootings at the Amish school in Pennsylvania. While the focus of the story was on growing Amish interest in and use of mental health services, the latter end of the piece related how some members of the community are already seeking to reach out to the shooter's family and extend hands of forgiveness. The bloggers over at GetReligion noted this element of the events as well.

For some reason, this story struck me today. How, I wondered, could people in the midst of rupture, death, and destruction think about extending grace and forgiveness? Of course the Amish are well known for pacifist convictions, yet to hear that, according to this story, some practice what they preach, it was refreshing and encouraging to say the least.

And in a day where (un)righteous revenge very often informs and dictates matters of national import, it is nice to hear that some people have a sensible answer to the now commodified question, "What Would Jesus Do?"

Though ironic and mysterious, hope exists in the midst of despair, community in the midst of fracture, life in the midst of death, and redemption in the midst of suffering.

As the liturgy says, "Lord, hear our prayers."

World Christianity in St. Louis

In addition to the recently formed institutes devoted to the study of world Christianity in the global south -- Calvin College's Nagel Institute for the Study of World Christianity and New York Theological Seminary's Center for World Christianity -- Saint Louis University professor Michael J. McClymond's vision, organizing, and collaboration led to the formation of The Institute for World Christianity. According to its website, the institute "exists to heal divisions and to promote mutual understanding and fruitful collaboration among Christian leaders from all cultures, regions, and traditions." In addition, the institute will hold a consulation for emerging church leaders in January.

Here's the blurb: "An important event in the life of the Institute is the annual Consultation for Emerging Leaders. The IWC week-long January consultation will be a select gathering up to 70 younger Christian leaders (mostly under 35 years of age) who will (1) pray and worship the Lord together, (2) listen to and learn from one another about what God is doing in churches throughout the world, and (3) develop new strategies and plans during the week for their own fields of ministry and Christian service. The food and housing costs in St. Louis will be met by the IWC, and, in most cases, the travel expenses to and from St. Louis will also be covered."

This is surely a notable development, and will not doubt lead to fruitful conversation, interesting collaboration, and continue the conversation about the multiform expressions of Christiainty in the global south.

Disputatio on Dissertating: Dispatches from the Archives

While this post is not really a "disputatio" in the formal sense, I suppose after I finish the dissertation my defense will be a disputatio. Nevertheless, now that I'm ABD (like another friend in the blogosphere), and thanks to generous funding from this department, it is time to travel to New England to comb the archives.

My dissertation examines the role of ministers in eighteenth-century New England (the Atlantic and Southern colonies as well), and looks specifically at pastoral dismissal, or "dismission" in eighteenth-century parlance. No scholar as yet has offered a critical analysis of eighteenth century dismissals, explusions partly due to the rising prominence of the legal profession, in addition to a growing consumer/market economy, not to mention theological contests, local church politics, sexual scandals, personality conflicts, and ministerial fatigue. While Jonathan Edwards' dismissal is no doubt the most well-known and best documented dismissal, I have identified a number of others. It also strikes me that pastoral dismissal as a theme in American religious history is something interesting to think about; there are certainly numerous examples of pulpit punts in the 19th and 20th centuries (and I'm sure many in this century).

I'll poke around in the archives at the Essex Museum, Harvard, Massachusetts Historical Society, and the American Antiquarian Society and then head west to the Jonathan Edwards Center at Yale and the Connecticut Historical Society, with a stop thereafter at the Historical Society of Pennsylvania to explore their colonial clergy holdings. Since I'm in the neighborhood, I also hope to visit the Hartford Institute for Religion Research as I continue working on two projects (one project with this sociologist) related to Joel Osteen, megachurches, and American religion.

I'll consume large, no, obscene amounts of coffee to have the energy to keep this itinerary and hope to see several friends (1, 2, and 3) along the way.

A Suburban Theology

Interesting thoughts about spirituality and suburbia I'm still mulling over. Read and mull here.

And speaking of suburbia and spirituality, Albert Hsu has a forthcoming book with InterVarsity Press titled The Suburban Christian. It should be interesting, as is his blog.

Interested readers should also check out Kevin Kruse's White Flight: Atlanta and the Making of Modern Conservatism (Princeton UP, 2005). He teaches history at Princeton and there's a nice interview about the book on his webpage. Kruse draws important connections between the rise of suburbia, racism, and the emergence of right-wing politics. Such things fit hand in glove and he sets an important historical context that all should think critically about. Kruse is at work on a book about the Religious Right and also has a forthcoming collection of essays on what is called the new suburban history. Read more here.

Multiracial Churches and Sixth Americans

Read through Michael O. Emerson’s (with Rodney M. Woo) People of the Dream: Multiracial Congregations in the United States last night and today. It is a fabulous book that explores internal and external dynamics in the U.S., replete with (sometimes) dense sociological data and gripping accounts (some written by Rodney Woo) of personal and congregational transformation. Much of the data explains the history and life of Wilcrest Baptist Church, located in Houston.

Emerson chose to use multiracial instead of multicultural or multiethnic because he argues that the “fundamental cleavage” (fn2, p. 34) in the U.S. is race, not ethnicity. Therefore, “multiracial” more fully captures the immediacy of experiences people have in these congregations.

In terms of numbers, Emerson’s research shows that only about 7% of congregations in the U.S. could be described as multiracial, where “no one racial group comprises 80 percent or more of the people” (35). According to Emerson, the percentages decrease further when one examines Christianity in general, and then Protestantism in particular. Readers should spend time on chapter 2 particularly since it is here Emerson lays out a thoroughgoing but helpful explanation of the data he compiled and analyzed. He identifies various factors that contribute to or limit a congregation’s multiracial character, as well as important “pathways” (p. 161) to becoming racially diverse. I won’t belabor all of the statistical data; spend time reading it to illuminate the rest of the book. Chapter 7 offers a nice, crisp summary of the research as well.

From interviews and observations, Emerson identifies what he calls the “Sixth American” (99), a play off of David Hollinger’s Postethnic America (1995) which identifies 5 racial groups in the U.S, in essences 5 “types” (99) of Americans (Indian/Native American, African American/Black, European American/Black, Hispanic/Latino, and Asian American/Asian). Hollinger’s definitions note the cultural creation and meaning of “race.” Sixth Americans, in Emerson’s estimation, are individuals who are members of multiracial congregations, and those who intentionally pursue multiracial friendship and fellowship, in public and in private, on the job, and at church. As Emerson importantly points out, these people are Sixth Americans by “choice” (100).

This is an important point to make, and one I wish to highlight. At the present time, what little data exists on this particular question, I think it reveals intentionality toward community in these multiracial congregations. In sociological and historical terms, one might say that people in multiracial congregations deconstruct societal notions of race to reconstruct racial identity in the context of a community that affirms both individuals and structural forms of integration. In spiritual terms, Sixth Americans commit themselves to racial equality and all that it implies, taking Spirit-led risks to form a fabric of Christian community that takes time and patience to stitch, as different needles are used to thread the whole cloth. And needles will need to be carefully passed to future generations. That only 7% of U.S. congregations are multiracial (according to the data), means that very few people embrace a rigorous intentionality in terms of living a life of multiracial possibilities and existence.

George Yancey's One Body, One Spirit: Principles of Successful Multiracial Churches (2003), a book written using the same data Emerson accessed, has a good chapter on the concept and enactment of intentionality (pp. 108-117).

Emerson notes that multiracial congregations are in a “toddler stage” (160), but he does sense a “swelling momentum” (170) among and within these communities. After noting the unique nature of multiracial congregations when compared the entirety of America’s racialized, religious landscapes, Emerson strikes something of a prophetic, hopeful tone: “These congregations may be harbingers of a new stage of U.S. race relations” (193).

This book is a must read.

And, I end with a question: Are you a Sixth American? What stories can you share that will help us "see" the possibilites of being a Sixth American?

Speaking in Electronic Tongues: Pentecostalism's Centennial

Arlene Sanchez-Walsh, professor at Azusa Pacific University and chair of the Haggard School of Theology, just informed me that the fabulous radio show Speaking of Faith did a recent program on Pentecostalism. Check it out.