That offer struck me: in this unusual time, there are MANY with no one to talk to. How can I lean into that reality? How can my church, ALL our churches, offer space for friendship and conversation?
Several people responded with heartfelt personal stories: a man who had had painful encounters with police officers. A woman concerned about the safety of her husband, a large, strong Black man living in a predominantly white community. Reflections on miscommunication, misunderstanding.
Then: “I would be interested in joining a group to discuss these issues,” followed by discussion about an online group, or an in-person group once COVID-19 restrictions end.
Then: “I would be interested in joining a group to discuss these issues,” followed by discussion about an online group, or an in-person group once COVID-19 restrictions end.
A day later I was invited to be part of a Zoom call with someone I’ve met through my work, an activist organizer with extensive friendships in the returned-citizen, formerly-incarcerated community. She has a vision of an online discussion where people can share their stories and come to know each other as people caught in a broken system. I’m not sure how that will take shape, but interested to be part of it.
Praying about all this, I stumbled over a friend’s recommendation of Be The Bridge: Pursuing God’s Heart for Racial Reconciliation.
In December, 2019 Be the Bridge tied for first place in the Christian Living category of the Christianity Today 2020 Book Awards. The book was written by Latasha Morrison, founder and president of an organization she launched in 2016 “to encourage racial reconciliation among all ethnicities, to promote racial unity in America, and to equip others to do the same.” Her book shares some stories from that work, but also stories from our country’s history, stories not told in our textbooks or classrooms.
I immediately ordered four copies. I was going to order one, then found it on ThinkOrange for $11 a copy, and began to wonder who might read it with me. If you’re interested, let me know!
While waiting for it to arrive, I’ve been wandering the Be the Bridge website, praying.
I love this vision of reconciliation:
We turn up the voices of the marginalized and require that those in the dominant culture listen, educate themselves on history, grow their empathy muscles and develop language to understand marginalization and oppression.
In these conversations that we’re having at Be the Bridge, there’s not going to be an even exchange of information, where, “Hey, I’m going to tell what I know, and you tell me what you know.” The fact is, history has been erased, hijacked, white-washed, and skewed. We have to set that right with truth-telling. That’s where we start. A lot of people coming to this bridge are coming with a lot of misinformation related to history because we don’t have the same common memory or shared understanding of history.
No one is voiceless unless there’s a medical condition. The reality is, people are unheard. We spotlight the stories, the concerns and the injustices of marginalized people groups so that together we can Be the Bridge toward racial reconciliation.
I love the unapologetic clarity, claiming space for voices too often unheard. I started this blog, Words Half Heard, with the strong belief that there are too many words I’ve never fully understood, in part due to the cultural and political hijacking of the white Christian church, in part due to theological constructs that elevate some voices over the voices closest to God’s heart: the poor, the oppressed, the marginalized, the stranger. I’ve sat through far too many exercises in “even exchange of information” where the predominant voices continue to dominate, where the one-sided “this is the way it is” story is told, yet again.
I so much want to hear the stories not yet heard, to understand grace, justice, beauty, wholeness from voices that contradict and challenge the defining narratives.
Mostly, I want to listen.
I want to think about hair, skin, bodies: how hard it is to love ourselves when we don’t look like the prevailing standards, when our hair has a mind of its own.
I want to hear about voices, dialects, accents, words: how we can learn to hear truth from voices different from those we’ve been taught are right or respectable or reasonable.
I want to listen to stories: the heartbreaking stories that are hard to tell, the terrible stories that will make me rage, and grieve, and pray, and think, and plan.
The Be the Bridge website has a few of those stories, told simply and clearly by those who have lived them. It offers a wealth of recommended resources, including a “Where Do I Start?” blogpost with lists of books and films and podcasts.
The website also offers a link to a private Facebook group with strict rules on what’s allowed, including a requirement that those new to the group spend three months listening and learning before being allowed to comment or post.
What would our churches be like if we were all required to spend three months really LISTENING to the people least like us? If we spent three months praying to hear the questions behind the questions, struggling to understand the grief and love and longing behind the half-heard words?
I’ve been feeling that in this strange, difficult time, God is inviting us all to something new. I’m not quite sure what that entails, but feeling sure there’s more work to do to get ready. For me, joining the Be the Bridge community as a listener and learner is an essential next step.
I invite you to join me.
I invite you to join me.
