Month: June 2020

A couple of weeks ago, Katie Bursley, a daughter of David and Karen Siklosi and also a daughter of Keith Church, emailed me to inquire about how our church was addressing the question of wearing masks as we anticipated returning to in-person worship during the COVID-19 pandemic. Katie is serving as the lay leader of her United Methodist Church in Shreveport, Louisiana, and was interested in some guidance she might be able to share with their church leadership in their own preparations. I responded that our conference’s leadership had resolved the question of wearing masks for us by making it a non-negotiable requirement for all in-person worship services to be held in the Holston Conference. But I suggested to her that the Wesleyan Quadrilateral might provide some guidance on this question, and then I sought to “unmask” some of the ways in which this might be so.

For more information on what the Wesleyan Quadrilateral is and how it can help us engage in robustly biblical and theological reflections on any number of questions that Christians may face, I would refer you to my colleague the Rev. Andrew Lay’s podcast on it which came out last Monday (see “The Methodical Methodist Podcast” at https://www.iheart.com/podcast/269-the-methodical-methodist-p-59418523/episode/ep-16-the-wesleyan-quadrilateral-65224114/).

Andrew describes how a Wesleyan scholar Albert Outler coined this term after witnessing how John Wesley wove these four sources together – scripture, tradition, reason and experience – in his sermons, essays and other writings. Even though it may sound a little too much like mathematics for some folks’ tastes, the Wesleyan quadrilateral continues to provide a helpful framework for exploring some of the questions Christians face today.

So what might the Wesleyan quadrilateral have to say about wearing masks during a time of pandemic?

Scripture (Part 1)

Because Wesley considered scripture the primary and foundational source among the four (thus the quadrilateral is not really an equilateral, but maybe more of a trapezoid, but again, that’s starting to sound too much like math!), I want to both begin and end with scripture. So what does scripture say about wearing masks? Truthfully, not much. At least, not directly.

In the Old Testament, there is the story of Rebekah wearing a veil at her match-making with her future husband Isaac (Genesis 24:65). There’s the scandalous story of Tamar wearing a veil to disguise her identity so that she can seduce her father-in-law Judah (Genesis 38:15). There’s the story of Moses wearing a veil to shield his fellow Israelites from the blinding brightness of his face shining from his encounter with the Lord upon the mountain (Exodus 34:33-35). There’s also a lot of veiling and unveiling in the interactions of the newlyweds in the Song of Songs. But other than that, the wearing of masks or veils figures very little in the Old Testament.  

In the New Testament, it’s even sparser. Paul wanted women to wear veils while praying and prophesying but not men, but his words perhaps reflect more the misogynistic practices of the time than any relevant practices today (1 Corinthians 11:4-7). So the scriptures do not seem to directly and explicitly address our question of whether to wear our masks in the midst of a global pandemic. But the scriptures do address this question indirectly and implicitly, as I will suggest in a moment.

Tradition

What about the second resource that Wesley used, tradition? Tradition has to do with how the church has interpreted and applied the teachings of the scriptures over the years. Fortunately, Wesley himself has already done a lot of the heavy lifting for us in his distillations of the scriptural guidance that he provided in his sermons and essays. One of those distillations is found in the “General Rules” that he laid out for small groups to follow in their sharing of life and faith together. (Andrew has another episode on the “General Rules” in his podcast to which I would also refer you!) There are three General Rules, and though they are simple to state, they are not always easy to follow. In summary, the three rule are:

1. Do no harm and avoid evil of every kind
2. Do good and be merciful in every kind
3. Attend upon all the ordinances of God (or as the late Bishop Reuben Job paraphrased it, “stay in love with God”)

The wearing of masks has been shown to help reduce the risk of spreading the virus to others (more on this in a moment), so it seems to satisfy the first general rule. It seems to help do, if not absolutely no harm at all, then at least less harm than not wearing a mask. It also seems to satisfy the second general rule in that it appears to actually help do some good in preventing the spread of the virus. In other words, wearing a mask might help meet two of the three “General Rules,” and as Meatloaf reminds us, “two out of three ain’t bad!”

We also have within our tradition the witness of one of the most famous Methodist evangelists of a century ago whose name is not only found on an elementary school in nearby Cleveland, TN, but also adorns the mammoth auditorium on the Methodist assembly grounds of Lake Junaluska, NC – George R. Stuart. He is quoted in the Birmingham, Alabama Age-Herald on October 14, 1918, during that pandemic, musing on what we might learn from this experience.

Stuart insisted that “intelligent Christians” turn to science rather than trying to “tempt God to perform a miracle in the preservation of our health…Christians do not discount their faith in the omnipotence of their God by keeping their bodies and homes and streets clean and nongerm producing; by using care in traffic and travel, accepting vaccination, sprays and disinfectants and keeping God’s own laws of health and life. Any other course is the fruit of ignorance and false teaching.” (Quoted on the Facebook post of First Christian Church of Chattanooga, March 25, 2020). Although Stuart doesn’t specifically mention masks, I can imagine he would include the wearing of masks if that is what the scientific and medical community was recommending.

Reason

This reliance upon the recommendations of the scientific community and the findings of scientific research represents the third resource in the Wesleyan quadrilateral for our theological reflection, reason. Wesley lived in the midst of the European Enlightenment, as new horizons of scientific inquiry and understanding were opening up in all directions. He saw our human faculty of reason as a God-given gift to help us better understand and appreciate the beauty and the glory of God’s bountiful creation and our responsibilities within it. 

John Wesley was something of an amateur scientist himself. He published a book of home remedies called Primitive Physick that can certainly seem primitive by today’s standards but represented his best effort to provide practical help for the people of his day to be as healthy in body, mind and spirit as possible. I would like to imagine that if Wesley were writing his book today, he might have included not only insistence upon wearing a mask in a time of a pandemic but also instructions on how to make a homemade mask.

So, how does our human reason as exercised and expressed in the scientific enterprises today speak into this question of wearing masks? Well, three things must be said at the outset. First, the science about all of this – not just the effectiveness of wearing masks but also the transmission and potential mutation of the virus itself, the progression of the disease, the protection provided by antibodies, etc. – is continuing to unfold and it seems there are new developments nearly every day. This means, second, sometimes the recommendations from the scientific community can change over time, as it has over the past few months on the subject of wearing masks. And third – believe it or not – scientists, medical experts, health care professionals, etc. don’t always agree with one another!

But with those disclaimers in mind, I did find it interesting to hear a report on National Public Radio of an article published June 1 in the British medical journal Lancet of a meta-analysis of 172 different observational studies from across 16 different countries and 6 continents that found that wearing masks, along with physical distancing and eye protection, was demonstrably effective in reducing the risk of the transmission of the virus. (https://www.thelancet.com/journals/lancet/article/PIIS0140-6736(20)31142-9/fulltext#%20) One of the co-authors of the study, Holger Schunemann, an epidemiologist at McMaster University, says that “what this evidence supports is that, if there is a policy around using face masks in place, it does actually come with a fairly large effect.” (https://www.npr.org/sections/health-shots/2020/06/21/880832213/yes-wearing-masks-helps-heres-why)

But the article that grabbed my attention the most was one my wife Tracy shared with me as I was contemplating whether to shelve my own clippers and go get my hair cut by a bona fide professional. She shared with me an article about a Great Clips hair salon in Springfield, Missouri – I’ve gotten my hair cut many a time at a Great Clips – where two of the stylists contracted COVID-19 and went on to risk exposing at least 140 customers to the virus. But because the salon required masks to be worn by both the stylists and the customers, the wearing of masks was credited with preventing the potential spike that could have caused. In the weeks since this happened, none of the clients have come down with the virus. (https://www.washingtonpost.com/business/2020/06/17/masks-salons-missouri/)

I am aware that not everyone believes these reports, and that there are some reviews that purport to show the opposite, that the wearing of masks is actually ineffective outside the hospital setting. Again, scientists don’t always agree with one another. But the escalating and overwhelming volume of scientific research supports the idea that wearing masks, along with other practices like handwashing and safe distancing, actually does help to prevent the person-to-person transmission of the coronavirus. It helps protect not so much the wearer from contracting the virus as it does from our (inadvertently, unknowingly) transmitting to others through talking, coughing, sneezing, shouting, singing, etc. Thus it seems to be true that we wear our masks not so much to protect ourselves as primarily to protect others. I wear it to protect you, you wear it to protect me, and so we all look out for and protect one another.

Scripture (Part 2)

Which brings me back to our first and foundational source in the Wesleyan quadrilateral for theological reflection on the questions facing Christians today – scripture. As I said earlier, even though the scriptures may not directly or explicitly address the question of whether or not to wear a mask during a pandemic, they absolutely and unquestionably address this question implicitly, indirectly, and they do so in at least four instances. Three of these four are found in the words of Jesus, and the fourth comes from the Apostle Paul.

First, when Jesus is asked in the Gospels which of all the commandments of God is the greatest, he answers, “Love God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:34-40, see also Mark 12:28-34, Luke 10:25-28). Therefore, if wearing a mask reduces the risk of our neighbor – the person near to us – contracting this deadly virus, then that is what loving our neighbor looks like in a time of pandemic.

Second, on the last night Jesus was with his disciples, the night before he went to the cross, he gave them a new commandment. “I give you a new commandment,” he told them, “that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:34-35). If our wearing a mask helps protect one another from this virus, then that is what loving one another looks like. (And – bonus – it is also how others in the community will know we are Christian.)

Third, one of the teachings for which Jesus is most famous is the so-called “Golden Rule.” Found in some form in most of the major world religions, Jesus put it like this: “In everything, do to others as you would have them do to you; for this is the law and prophets” (Matthew 7:12). If you expect me to do whatever I can to protect you and your health in this pandemic, and I expect you to do whatever you can to protect me, then both of us wearing a mask during a pandemic fulfills the Golden Rule. Again, this is not just according to Christian scriptures but other religions’ sacred writings as well.

Finally, this can also be inferred from Paul’s letters. In both Romans 14 and 1 Corinthians 8-9, Paul is addressing a question about whether it is appropriate for Christians to eat meat that has been sacrificed to idols. There are some in the Christian community who see no problem with this. Idols aren’t real, they say, so the fact that the meat has been sacrificed to an idol shouldn’t be cause for any real concern. Paul calls this group the “strong.” But there are others who are concerned about being contaminated by consuming food sacrificed to these false gods. After all, aren’t our bodies “contaminated” in a way with the life and spirit – the body – of Christ when we partake of food that has been consecrated in his name? Paul calls this group the “weak.” 

Perhaps the terms he uses here are unfortunate. But although Paul himself agrees with the “strong” position – with those who say there’s no problem with food sacrificed to idols – he says he would rather go without eating meat than risk wounding the conscience of the “weak” for whom Christ died just as much as for him. Remarkably, Paul refuses to insist upon his own right to eat meat out of an even greater sense of responsibility for his fellow brother and sister in Christ. Why? Because that’s what love – the agape, self-giving, other-oriented, Christ-like love that Paul describes so beautifully in 1 Corinthians 13 – looks like.

In Paul’s eyes, there’s something even more compelling than our own individual rights and liberties and freedom, and that is our responsibility to others in our community. For Paul, the we is greater than the me (in mathematical terms, we>me). How relevant Paul’s rhetoric is to our day and to our question about masks! 

There are those today who don’t believe this virus is a big deal, who believe it’s all been blown way out of proportion, that perhaps it’s even a hoax, a conspiracy, and that wearing a mask is useless and ineffective – and who want to assert their “right” not to wear one even when it’s requested or even required by state or local or church authorities. Let’s call this group, following Paul, the “strong.” Then there are others who aren’t so sure about that, who are taking the virus very seriously, who maybe have contracted the virus themselves or have lost someone very dear to them from this virus, who are following the recommendations of the scientific and health care experts to the letter. Let’s call this group the “weak.”

Would not following Paul’s argument and example here mean refraining from exercising our “right” to not wear a mask and wearing one anyway out of a greater sense of responsibility toward those who are worried and concerned? Not only would that be the even “stronger” thing to do – it takes more strength to refrain from exercising a right than to exercise it – but this is also, according to Paul, what love – Christ-like love – looks like.

So ultimately we can see that the scriptures join together with tradition and reason in commending the wearing of a mask during a time of pandemic as an expression of our Christ-like love and care and compassion for others. But wait – that’s only three sources? The quadrilateral is four sources. So what about the fourth – experience? 

Experience

One of the things I mentioned in my email to Katie are the experiences of churches who have returned to in-person worship where the wearing of masks may have been recommended but not required nor apparently very widely practiced in those congregations. Several of these churches have had outbreaks of the virus traceable back to their worship services or choir rehearsals or fellowship suppers or other gatherings. Consequently, many of those churches have made the decision to re-suspend in-person worship services.

As I wrote to Katie, “No church wants that PR. Nobody wants to be that church.” No church wants to go through that experience. But my heart still sinks every time one of these stories comes across my news feed, and frankly, sometimes it makes me wonder what on earth we are doing going back to in-person worship so soon ourselves.

But if wearing a mask in worship can help reduce the risk of spreading the virus, then why not? What’s the big deal? Really. It is so sad to see how wearing a mask has become so politicized. I don’t care what your politics are or aren’t. A mask is not a political symbol. You shouldn’t wear it or refuse to wear it because you’re a Democrat or a Republican. I would hope we would wear it because we’re something even more definitive – a Christian! But even setting both politics and religion to the side, it’s such a small, simple, easy thing to do. And if it can stop the spread and save lives, then why on earth not?

Plus it can be a lot of fun to buy or make or give or receive masks that show a little personality, a little pizzazz, a little flair! You can sport a mask in the colors of your favorite team. You can even order a mask with a depiction of your mouth and smile on it! I kid you not!

I know it takes a little getting used to at first, but you actually get used to wearing one after a while. Some people – surgeons, dentists, welders – wear a mask all day long and think nothing of it. If wearing a mask for maybe 30 minutes in a grocery store or in a place of business or in a worship service helps to prevent the spread of this deadly virus and may even prevent a second wave of infections and allow an even quicker return to some sense of normalcy, then it is quite literally very nearly almost the absolute least I can do. And if it turns out in the end that all those naysayers were right all along and that wearing a mask doesn’t do a darn (trying to keep it PG here) bit of good for anybody, then it won’t have set me too far back anyway.

Finally, based upon the experiences of those who have contracted this virus and have been hospitalized in ICU units and have fought for – and so many have lost – their very lives while cut off from the love and presence and support of their family and friends and faith community, I can unapologetically and unequivocally say I would much rather wear a mask around my face than a ventilator down my throat.

So let’s do whatever we can to keep one another as safe and healthy as possible in the midst of this pandemic. Wash your hands. Watch your distance from others. And on the authority of at least four witnesses – scripture, tradition, reason and experience – when you’re out in public, wear a mask.

Pastor Dave

When Tracy and I got married 20 years ago this spring, we asked a fellow student at the seminary to be our wedding coordinator. Leah Gunning Francis was born and grew up in the same town where Tracy was born – Willingboro, New Jersey – so they had that connection. And Leah and I had been in the same small group for our introductory preaching class. Leah could preach circles around the rest of us. She could pack more punch into one of our five-minute mini-sermons than most preachers could in an entire career. Whenever it was her turn to preach, she showed up with a stick of dynamite, whereas I always seemed to show up with a box of wet matches.

Leah had been doing some wedding coordinating on the side, and she was really good at it. In fact, most of what I do now as a pastor when I am also called to do a little wedding coordinating on the side, I learned from her. Fortunately, at my own wedding, there wasn’t much for me to do, which meant there wasn’t much for me to mess up. She showed me where I needed to stand, when I needed to move, what I needed to say. And the wedding all came together beautifully and went off, as I like to say, with a hitch!

As has happened with so many of my classmates from both college and seminary, after graduation we all went our separate ways and did our own things and lived our own lives. But we would eventually catch up with one another through the advent of social media. Leah went on to serve as a pastor, to earn a PhD and to teach as a seminary professor, and now she serves as an academic dean. She got married (I wonder if she coordinated her own wedding!) and she and her husband have two sons, just like Tracy and I do. While I haven’t heard her preach since we were in class together, I have seen some of the videos she’s posted to help her seminary community navigate the current COVID-19 crisis with confidence and care.

I’ve also been thinking about Leah recently with the resurgence of the awareness of and protests against racism in the aftermath of the killings of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, and Rayshard Brooks this spring. Five years ago, Leah wrote a book in the aftermath of the shooting and killing of an unarmed black man by a white police officer. The book is called Ferguson & Faith: Sparking Leadership & Awakening Community (Chalice, 2015). 

On Saturday, August 9, 2014, Michael Brown, an 18 year-young black man, was shot and killed in the middle of the day, in the middle of the street, in the middle of a residential neighborhood in the city of Ferguson, Missouri. Witnesses say he had his hands up in surrender before he was shot. He laid there in the street for over 4 hours. The place where he died was only eleven miles from where Leah and her family lived at the time while she taught Christian education at Eden Theological Seminary in St. Louis. This tragedy hit home hard for her.

In the days, weeks, and months afterwards, Leah knew she had to do something. So she did. She prayed, she preached, she protested, she marched, and she advocated for social change and justice. In the introduction of her book, she writes, “as a woman of faith, I did not separate my actions in pursuit of justice for Michael Brown from my faith. My faith, or my belief and trust in God, motivated me to join the efforts to seek justice and provide care. My faith was integral to my works, and, together, enabled me to embody my idea of faithfulness in this time of communal distress.” (p. 3)

Leah knew she was not alone. She was already connected with several other clergy in the area who were involved in this work, and she met many others along the way. She interviewed two dozen local clergy and over a dozen other young leaders and community organizers and activists. Her book tells the story of how these people from various walks of life and backgrounds came together to transform this moment into a movement, as Jim Wallis put it in his foreword to her book. It’s a compelling narrative – told in so many of their own words – of how they put their own lives on the line and risked arrest and incarceration themselves to advance the cause of justice in their community.

I pulled Leah’s book down off the bookshelf in my study at the church a few days ago with a mixture of sadness and hope. Sadness in that here we are all over again, a handful of years later, wondering whether we have made any progress at all, and worried that we have, in fact, regressed in many ways. But hope, too, that maybe her words then could still speak to us today and help us find a way forward together. Her words, as I expected, did not disappoint.

In her final chapter, she writes that “there are at least three things we must do to #staywoke in order to be able to demand systemic changes that promote the fair and equitable treatment of black people. We must awaken to the awareness of our own privilege, build relationships in our own communities, and connect this awareness and the corresponding action in order to effect change for a more racially just world.” (p. 158)

As I reflect upon her words, I would want Leah to know that I’m working on these three things. I’m working on recognizing my white privilege, the “benefits bestowed upon white people that non-white people do not receive.” (p. 158) I’ve read her book, and I’ve read other books, and I’ve got more books to read, more movies to watch, many more lessons to learn. And I’m trying to help some of my white brothers and sisters in Christ recognize how our white privilege functions in our society. “Recognizing white privilege,” she writes, “is a step toward using it as a resource to bring about a more just and equitable world.” (p. 159) I’m learning not to be afraid of my white privilege or ashamed of it either, but rather to be educated, empowered and equipped to put that privilege to use for good instead of for ill, to help and to heal rather than to hurt and to harm.

She also encourages us to build relationships in our own communities, especially with the young people. I’m heartened to see that very thing happening here in Athens. The very first of the protests here in town over the killing of George Floyd was organized by young people, which resonates with what Leah observed in Ferguson. The young people get it, and perhaps they can often lead us older folks along the way we should be going. And I was also heartened to see our law enforcement officials present and supportive at these protests as well. I have seen bridges being built among blacks and white, young and old, laity and clergy, law enforcement and people of color in ways that maybe have never happened quite so intentionally, so purposefully before. We are getting to know one another. We are listening to each other’s stories, hearing the pain that is being expressed, honoring the anger and the frustration, and sharing in our collective hope for change for the better.

And I pray we are strengthening our resolve at least as a local community to connect the dots to the corresponding actions that we will need to take to start to right the wrongs, to repair the damage, and to build the kind of loving and just community that comes to resemble more and more closely the kingdom of God that Jesus came to proclaim.

It’s been twenty years since Leah was our wedding director. But it turns out she is still helping me know where I need to stand, when I need to move, and what I need to say.

Pastor Dave

I was standing in my backyard in a dirt spot worn from countless hours of learning to hit a baseball. We had been sent outside indefinitely so my mother could clean the house, and since I was the kid who would always say just one more just one more and would play forever, I was in heaven. And then it happened. I saw a pitched baseball that was in my wheelhouse, (baseball term for it was right where I could hit it), and hit it I did.

In a scene that was years later repeated in the movie, The Natural, the ball left my bat perfectly, and everyone in the yard saw it in slow motion, because we could see where it was headed. In what seemed to me like an eternity the ball flew toward my house and not just toward the house, it was headed toward the kitchen window. I had grown up in church, and knew not to pray for things like this, but I stood watching and hoping, if this was in- deed heaven, God would help me out. And then, we heard the breaking of glass as the ball went right through the window and into where my mom was cleaning. Talk about a walk-off hit, everyone in the yard ran but me, and the game was instantly over. Part of me felt good because it was one of the best balls I had ever hit and then I heard my mom crying hysterically.

Once I figured out I had not killed her, because no one could scream that loud if they were dead, I got my nerve up to go in the house where I found my mom crying and my dad doing his best to console her. I remember him telling her it was too late to get a glass company out and he would just have to put a piece of cardboard in the window, which made her cry even more. You see we lived in a very small house and it was my mom’s turn to host the women’s Circle the next day. My mom wanted everything perfect, because of the small space, and now she was picking up glass and faced with a big piece of cardboard for a prominent window. I was sent to my room, thankfully, where I spent the rest of the evening.

Throughout the whole ordeal my dad never seemed very upset with me which I found surprising but comforting. The circle met the next day, and my mom must have had a good time explaining the cardboard window, because she was smiling when I got home.

Years later, my dad and I were walking through his high school school gymnasium. The gym could have been used as the gym in the movie Hosiers, and you could sense the aura from all the games and activities that had been held there. It was even more important to our family because my grandfather was the principal and basketball coach and my dad was a known athlete there. It had been many years since that gym had seen a basketball game but I could tell it brought back memories for my dad. When we got to mid court my dad smiled and told me this story.

During an assembly my dad and a few others had skipped and opted to play a baseball game instead. Skipping was a bold move, but skipping when your dad was principal even bolder. My dad went on to explain that during the game he had hit a ball that was one of his best ever. He said he stood and watched as the ball elevated to home run height, and then it happened. The ball went through the gymnasium window where my grandfather was speaking.

As he told the story I could just picture in my mind the ball going through the window and coming to a stop at the base of the podium. I asked my dad what he did and he said one word, “ran”. I then asked if grandaddy ever knew it was him and he said, “I’m sure he did, but he never said anything about it.”

As my dad and I continued our walk, I suddenly realized why he was so under- standing that day I broke the window, screams and all. I went to school the morning after my broken window feeling like I had ruined a Circle meeting. When I got home I was so excited to see my mom smiling about all the church women laughing with her as she told the story. It seems that my hit was the hit of the meeting.

Over the years I saw the women of my home church running bazaars, dinners, holding meetings in various houses, being cub scout leaders, Sunday school teachers, band parents, and overall models to the youth of our church as they lived their Christianity. In my 33 years at Keith Church I have seen the same, and it continues to this day.

Now, I hear people saying that it may be hard for people to get back in the routine of going to church, and I just do not believe that. I don’t believe that because a bunch of ladies proved it to me when they treated my mom like that piece of cardboard was made of diamonds. I don’t believe that because I know the Circles at Keith never stopped working, I don’t believe that because I know Keith Church and its members can’t possibly feel that way because of all the things the church has done, and has left to do.

James 1:12 says, Blessed are those who remain steadfast under trial, for when they have stood the test they will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him.

When I broke the window the window broke the Circle didn’t because those women loved God. I know the women of Keith love God and will be back, I know the men of Keith love God and will be back, I know the children and youth of Keith love God and will be back, and I know I will be back. Hope you join me.

When I was young, I remember hearing stories of my mom growing up in Smyrna, Tennessee. She told me one story of her driving to church at night. As she drove by the highway, she passed by a large field full of Ku Klux Klan members carrying torches. She saw around 50 hooded figures standing before a burning cross. Even as a sixteen-year-old white girl, she talked about feeling absolutely terrified. She said she remembers thinking, if I’m this scared, I cannot imagine how scared the black people in the community are. Listening to these stories made me think, “How could this blatant racism occur in the wide open? This sort of thing would never happen today.”

On May 25, 2020, George Floyd, a black man in Minneapolis, Minnesota was murdered by police officers. Officers responded to a call accusing him of buying cigarettes with a counterfeit $20 bill. For 8 minutes and 46 seconds, George Floyd was pinned down by three police officers – cutting off his air supply. This happened shortly after the murders of Ahmaud Arbery and Breonna Taylor. Both were innocent and wrongfully killed. It seems not much has changed since my mom was a kid. Today I am still asking the question, “How could this blatant racism occur in the wide open?” The truth is, blatant acts of racism have been going on this whole time, and it is time for it to end.

Our nation has a long and drawn out history of racism. From slavery, to Jim Crow laws, to continued discrimination that black people experience today. Unfortunately, racism is still alive and well today. But Enough is Enough.

The Book of Disciple of the United Methodist Church describes racism and the ways it is manifested in our world today:

“Racism is the combination of the power to dominate by one race over other races and a value system that assumes that the dominant race is innately superior to the others. Racism includes both personal and institutional racism. Personal racism is manifested through the individual expressions, attitudes, and/or behaviors that accept the assumptions of a racist value system and that maintain the benefits of this system. Institutional racism is the established social pattern that supports implicitly or explicitly the racist value system. Racism, manifested as sin, plagues and hinders our relationship with Christ, inasmuch as it is antithetical to the gospel itself. In many cultures, white persons are granted unearned privileges and benefits that are denied to persons of color. We oppose the creation of a racial hierarchy in any culture. Racism breeds racial discrimination. We define racial discrimination as the disparate treatment and lack of full access and equity in resources, opportunities, and participation in the Church and in society based on race or ethnicity. Therefore, we recognize racism as sin and affirm the ultimate and temporal worth of all persons. We rejoice in the gifts that particular ethnic histories and cultures bring to our total life. We commit as the Church to move beyond symbolic expressions and representative models that do not challenge unjust systems of power and access.”

 – From The Book of Discipline of The United Methodist Church 

So, you may be asking yourself, “What can I do? How do I respond?”

I don’t have all the answers, but I think this might be a good start.

1. Speak up and Speak out. Now is the time to speak out against racism. The silence of those failing to call out the evils of racism is deafening. You may be thinking, “I don’t need to call out racism. It is already understood.” But here is the thing… It is not understood. We are in a place right now, where you have to speak up and speak out. I recently heard one African American pastor say, “I always grieve when good people do or say nothing.”

2. Listen. Not only do we need to speak out, but we also need to listen to one another. Specifically, we need to listen in order to amplify the black voices in and around our community. Listening to the struggles of our black brothers and sisters will allow us to learn and grow as we strive to address the evils of racism. 

3. Stop Changing the Narrative. I recently heard a message from a pastor in Knoxville who said we often change the narrative with two words, “Yeah, but.” For example, at the beginning of our nation’s history someone said, “All men are created equal.” But then someone else came along and said, “Yeah, but not slaves.” When we say, “Yeah, but” we are often changing the narrative. This is not an issue of good people versus bad people. This is an issue of systemic racism. When people say, “I don’t see color,” then we are missing the point. When we “don’t see color” then that means that we are not recognizing the effects that systemic racism has on our black brothers and sisters. We need to stop changing the narrative and call out the evils of racism.

4. Peacefully Protest. One thing that we can do in response to this epidemic of racism is peacefully protest. As Americans, we have the right to protest peacefully which is ensured in the first amendment of the United States Constitution. This is a fundamental and important step in enacting change in our world. Lifting our voices and sharing our presence in the community will allow us to share our message with our leaders and local government. This step is tricky, considering we are still in the midst of a global pandemic. Consider ways you might protest while still keeping your distance and wearing a mask. 

And as we engage in protests, it is important for us to remember that the majority of our police offers and law enforcement are trying to do the best that they can to bring about peace, uphold law, and support a sense of positivity in our community. Yesterday I attended a peaceful prayer vigil at the courthouse, and it was heartwarming to hear our mayor, sheriff, and chief of police all speak out against police brutality and the evils of racism. We have both current and past police and law enforcement in our church community, and this is a time to offer support to them as well. We can make it known that our prayers are with our law enforcement and their families during this time as well.

5. Write Your Representatives. In order to enact change, we must let our representatives no that these acts of racism are no longer acceptable. We need to hold our government leaders accountable. We need bold legal reform, and in order to make the necessary changes, we must enable and elect leaders who are willing to bring about that change.

6. Make Your Vote Count. Another way to enact change is through electing folks who will stand up against the evils of racism. Make your vote count by researching candidates and making educated decisions on who you vote for.  Often times folks only exercise their votes in Presidential elections, but this is a reminder to exercise your right to vote in local government elections as well!

7. Give to the Cause.

– You can make donations to:

– The Official George Floyd Memorial Fund.

– Nationwide Bail Fund. 

– You can sign the Color of Change Petition to end violent policing against black people. 

– You can support black owned businesses.

8. Call to Pray. As Christians, we believe in the power of prayer to change things. We can pray for our black brothers and sister who are dealing with the effects of racial discrimination firsthand. We can pray for our government leaders to bring about the necessary change. We can pray for our church and community to take the necessary steps to combat the evils of racism. Together, we can lift our voices to God as we seek to transform this world and spread the love of God.

9. Love God and Love Neighbor. As a community, we can love God by loving our neighbor. God formed humanity out of the dust and breathed life into us. God formed us in God’s own image, and there is sanctity in human life. Together, we are called to treat others with the love of Christ. Black or White. Rich or Poor. Male or Female. Gay or Straight. Republican or Democrat. We are called to love our neighbor, even if they don’t look, act, or think like us.  

We are called to live by these words of Scripture: “There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear, because fear expects punishment. The person who is afraid has not been made perfect in love. We love because God first loved us. Those who say, “I love God” and hate their brothers or sisters are liars. After all, those who don’t love their brothers or sisters whom they have seen can hardly love God whom they have not seen! This commandment we have from him: Those who claim to love God ought to love their brother and sister also” – 1 John 14:18-21 (CEB).