SCRIPTURE Zechariah 8.1–8

  In the third episode of the Born Black Faith & Reason Series, Debo and Catherine Young talk with Dr. Alice Graham, the executive director of Back Bay Mission in Biloxi. Dr. Graham recounts her own experience …

This Fourth of July, Americans are being forced to see the nation’s celebration for independence differently. The combination of the coronavirus pandemic, which has disproportionately affected Black Americans, and the ongoing protests in response to the police killing of George Floyd have brought attention to this nation’s centuries-old history of anti-Black violence. 

We’re delighted to announce that the recordings from our June 17th and June 18th Anti-Racism Workshop are now available for purchase. To honor what you all paid to attend in person, and to encourage folks to join future classes in real time, we’ve priced both classes together for $25, and made each individual class available for $15.

The Color of Compromise is both enlightening and compelling, telling a history we either ignore or just don’t know. Equal parts painful and inspirational, it details how the American church has helped create and maintain racist ideas and practices. You will be guided in thinking through concrete solutions for improved race relations and a racially inclusive church.

On April 16, 1963, while sitting inside a jail cell after being arrested for protesting and demonstrating peacefully in Birmingham Alabama, King wrote a response  to eight white Alabama clergymen. The eight clergymen wrote a letter criticizing his presence in Birmingham and the aggressive approach to securing civil rights for black people in the state of Alabama.

The cries of ”I can’t breathe” have apparently awakened America to much needed new conversations on race.  As the national outpouring of support for Black Lives Matter has gone global, perhaps, indeed, a new movement is afoot in our country.  Whatever is happening, it boils over with passion.  

The Rev. Dr. William J. Barber II preaches at The Washington National Cathedral on June 14, 2020

June is Pride Month for LGBTQ+ communities across the country. And while COVID-19 and social distancing guidelines have forced Pride to go virtual this year, our struggle and triumph will not go uncelebrated.

In the space of a month, once again we have witnessed here in the US the murder of black people by white people, both civilian and uniformed, and we have witnessed the instant and total poverty of a major segment of our population. The two are not unrelated.

I was 5 years old when a white spiritual leader called me the n-word. Hoping to expand our cultural horizons, my parents had enrolled my siblings and me in a Vacation Bible School (VBS) program at a predominantly white church in our San Francisco suburb.

I’ve been waiting for over thirty years for this to happen, and I often wondered why it didn’t before now. I’m referring to the death of George Floyd and the resulting demonstrations and riots.

In this volume of essays, I turn toward images of Christ on the cross. As I continue my exploration of the wholly holy female face of God, I ask a deeper question. What does God’s femaleness and blackness practically mean for my particular black female experience?

We write together and in one voice, with urgency, as people of faith and as religious and spiritual leaders that represent the diverse faith traditions of United States of America. We are Baha’i, Buddhist, Christian, Hindu, Humanist, Indigenous, Jain, Jewish, Muslim, Sikh, Taoist, Unitarian Universalist, Zoroastrian, and many others.

Many progressive people, maybe even especially progressive clergy, are often so afraid of criticism that they keep their most passionate beliefs to themselves. This is especially true for those of us who live in deeply conservative areas dominated by traditional forms of religion.

Rev. Caleb J. Lines is senior minister at University Christian Church in San Diego, California. He serves on the Board of ProgressiveChristianity.org

How did we get here? All over the world people are marching in the streets proclaiming, “Black lives matter.” Millions have defied the fear of the corona virus, and taken their lives into their hands to venture out into the streets to protest the systemic racism that permeates institutions all over this planet.

There are no two sides. It’s not just a couple of clouds shrouding the sun. And the fire is not in the sky, it’s in the land. Sometimes containing that fire is the wrong move. Sometimes you need to let it burn through you, the sadness, the anger, the ‘Is this really still happening … STILL … still?”