Photo by Richard Lord, UMNS
Charlottesville Shelter
United Methodists were among demonstrators from 14 states who joined in the anti-racism protests in Charlottesville, Va., in 2017. The march turned deadly when a car rammed through a group protesters who were there to counter the Aug. 12 march by white nationalists fighting the moving of a Confederate statue.
Watching a loved one in pain inflicts some of the worst discomfort imaginable. Their pain profoundly becomes our pain, especially when there’s nothing we can do to relieve it except to endure until healing happens. I’ve relived this truth of life this week through our readers’ reactions to the July 26 issue of United Methodist Insight’s e-newsletter, “Saying No to Hate,” which generated more negative responses than we’ve had in months.
My first reaction to the emails was dismissive: I simply can’t fathom how any human can NOT say that demeaning, dehumanizing speech must not be tolerated, as Bishop Kenneth L. Carder wrote so eloquently. But the more I thought about readers’ reactions, my dismissiveness transformed into pity. I empathized with the pain that some of our readers expressed because they’re confronting the unthinkable. It’s like that moment when a bandage, soaked in clotted blood that has adhered to an infected wound, is removed so the wound can be cleaned and treated. They – and we, all of us – face an agonizing moment of revelation:
America is a racist nation, led by a president whose racialized rhetoric is causing dire consequences both through public policies and by legitimizing white supremacist violence.
This statement no doubt will spur last week’s disgruntled readers to send more outraged emails claiming that I am the one spreading hate. I understand, and I do pity them, because they have been indoctrinated to believe that America is meant to be a white-superior country. I understand and pity them, because they are us; not only are we fellow citizens, but as United Methodists we belong to a predominantly white denomination. Most United Methodists can’t or won’t recognize the privileges that adhere to them because the institutional church has been organized to favor those of the white race. At best, we are recovering racists, but we must not allow our remorse at past injustices prevent us from seeking justice now.
It is unconscionable that we have a White House occupant who apparently delights in whipping up racial hatred with his words. Contrary to other pundits, I contend that fostering this climate of rage and hate isn’t simply a political gambit for re-election. The president’s racialized rhetoric and the acts it inspires pose genuine dangers to the nation’s safety. Consider this excerpt from an Aug. 1 column by Greg Sargent of the Washington Post:
“A former Department of Homeland Security analyst named Daryl Johnson — who was pushed out from the Obama administration after warning of resurgent white supremacy — recently told me that Trump’s language is emboldening hate groups.
“What exactly can be discerned about the role of Trump’s rhetoric is complicated. But as that analyst noted to me, the constant drumbeat of Trumpian tropes — build the wall, keep out the swarthy invaders, George Soros is behind the caravans — has them ‘energized,’ because the president is ‘mainstreaming their message.’”
We’ve already seen presidential rhetoric result in anti-Semitic attacks in Pittsburgh, Pa., and Poway, Calif. This week a Jewish man was shot multiple times on his way to synagogue in Miami, Fla. Believers whose faith requires certain modes of dress are being attacked, as a Muslim man was in Baltimore and a Hindu priest in Modesto, Calif.
These messages of hate can only be countered by the message of love. Let’s not delude ourselves that this task will be simple or risk-free; Jesus was killed in part because he preached a message of God’s sovereign love that subverted the dominant narrative of the Roman Empire. We will need to put our bodies on the line as well as our words to show that racism is a sin against God and humanity. We can expect that some of us may be jailed or physically harmed; at the very least, we will endure taunts and confrontations, even in our own congregations. Our witness will take many different forms across the country. But like Esther, whose status as queen became the key to save her Hebrew people from massacre, we Christians are called to act at this time. The soul of our nation is at stake.
Cynthia B. Astle serves as Editor of United Methodist Insight, which she founded in 2011.