guest writer: Sheila Wise Rowe,
Adaptation from Healing Racial Trauma by Sheila Wise Rowe, Adapted from Chapter One, “Wounds”
For several decades Southern black folks carrying suitcases full of prized possessions fled poverty and threats of lynching to pursue the elusive dream of a better life in Northern cities like Boston. By the early 1960s, turbulence and race riots plagued much of the country yet bypassed Boston. The city had a self-congratulatory air because its predominantly African American community of Roxbury exercised restraint while other cities burned. Everything changed that humid day in June.
I was seven years old at the time. That night in my aunt and uncle’s apartment, I watched the nightly news report bearing witness to mothers treated like chattel and an agitated crowd cursing and hurling rocks at the police. The reporter said the violence would likely carry on throughout the night. As we watched in stunned silence, suddenly we heard someone pounding on the front door. I hid nearby but within earshot, as my uncle barked “Who is it?” He unlatched the dead bolt and on the other side of the door stood my dad, Robert Wise, dressed in black. His speech was halting as if he had run a road race: “We don’t have to take this crap anymore. Come on; let’s go beat up some whiteys.” My uncle declined, and with a dismissal of his hand my father bolted down the stairs. I spent the night listening for the front door to open or a floorboard to squeak upon Dad’s return. Eventually, he made it home safely. Perhaps he shared with my mother (also known as Momae) what happened that night, but not a word was said in my presence.
The rioting carried on for three days, as over one thousand demonstrators armed with rocks, bottles, and matches clashed with police officers armed with guns and billy clubs. When the smoke cleared, Blue Hill Avenue looked like a war zone strewn with debris and charred apartment buildings and storefronts. I wondered, Was Dad partly responsible for the devastation? Years passed before I knew of the deferred dreams of my dad and how deep were his well of trauma, grief, and rage.
In a 1968 speech titled “The Other America,” Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. pointedly remarked “in the final analysis, a riot is the language of the unheard.” Dr. King’s remark is as relevant today as it was back then.
The recent deaths of unarmed black men at the hands of the police, the immigration crackdown, and the rise in white supremacists have led to protests across the country, and inner cities still burn. I believe that riots are also the language of the unhealed.
When God says, “They have treated the wound of my people carelessly, saying ‘Peace, peace’ when there is no peace” (Jeremiah 6:14), he acknowledges that he sees and knows that we bear wounds that have not been taken seriously. Although there is significant research on the social, economic, and political effects of racism, little research recognizes the emotional and physical effects of racism on people of color.
People of color have endured traumatic histories and almost daily assaults on our dignity, and we are told to get over it. We have prayed about the racism, been in denial or acted out in anger, but we have not known how to individually or collectively pursue healing from the racial trauma.
We need healing and new ways to navigate ongoing racism, systemic oppression, and racial trauma that impairs our ability to become more resilient. Resilience is the capacity to recover quickly from difficulties or to “work through them step by step, and bounce back stronger than you were before.” In relation to racism, resilience refers to the ability “to persevere and maintain a positive sense of self when faced with omnipresent racial discrimination.” Resilience is not an inherited trait; how we think, behave, and act can help us to grow in resilience.
Historians have revealed that from the earliest days of First Nation genocide and the enslavement of Africans there has been a concerted effort to keep people of color separated and to develop a caste system of sorts. Rather than seeing the commonality that we have as people of color, we have been grading whose experience is worse. In his speech “I’ve Been to the Mountaintop,” Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. wrote, “when Pharaoh wanted to prolong slavery, he kept the slaves fighting among themselves. Whenever the slaves got together that was the beginning of getting out of slavery. Now let us maintain unity.”
My invitation to people of color is that you experience your own life story affirmed and acquire new solidarity with other people of color. Also that you obtain tools to help heal your racial trauma and to persevere on the road to resilience. My invitation to white folks is to be open to however these stories challenge you to be a better friend and ally to people of color. Perhaps you will hear echoes of your own trauma that you need to address. My hope is to lead you to greater empathy and activism.
People of color know that racism and racial oppression is real. We’ve felt the sting of each racist incident whether it was overt or covert, intentional or unintentional. Yet we’ve often been unaware of the full impact of the racial trauma that remains.
Racial trauma is real. Every day in the United States and across the world women, men, and children of color experience racism and witness lives and livelihoods devalued or lost as if they do not matter. The result is that people of color are carrying unhealed racial trauma.
Racial trauma and oppression of African Americans and other people of color must be shared. These stories are records of a journey on the road to healing and resilience. Identify and treat the root and symptoms of racial trauma. Make peace and obtain a renewed hope for the future.
Adapted from Healing Racial Trauma by Sheila Wise Rowe. Copyright (c) 2020 by Sheila Wise Rowe. Published by InterVarsity Press, Downers Grove, IL. www.ivpress.com, used with permission.
Bio for Sheila Wise Rowe
Sheila Wise Rowe is a graduate of Tufts University and Cambridge College with a master’s degree in counseling psychology. For over twenty-five years she has counseled abuse and trauma survivors in the United States. Sheila ministered to homeless and abused women and children in Johannesburg, South Africa, where she also taught counseling and trauma-related courses for a decade. Sheila is the executive director of The Rehoboth House and the cofounder of The Cyrene Movement, an online community for people of color seeking healing for racial trauma. She is the author of Healing Racial Trauma, The Well of Life: Heal Your Pain, Satisfy Your Thirst, Live Your Purpose along with The Wonder Years.
Our newest course, Time to Heal Online Course, is available now for purchase! This course provides 5 sessions with Christine Sine, Lilly Lewin, and Bethany Dearborn Hiser each with different approaches and practices to assist in processing grief and healing.
Note: As an Amazon Affiliate, I earn an amount on qualifying purchases. Thank you for your support for Godspace in this way.
by Jeannie Kendall,
During Advent 2020, I posted a poem a day. They seemed to be appreciated by some as a way to reflect through the season, so I am doing the same for Lent. Poetry is very personal, so some may pass you by, but hopefully at least some will be helpful. I am starting with the baptism of Jesus and working through the gospels (not necessarily in order, I’m afraid!) until we reach the events of Easter. Some poems are based around characters we encounter, some are more general reflections for this season. The references are there for you if you would like to use them as daily readings to accompany the poems. God bless you as you read. Feel free to re-use any in any way, I would just appreciate that if it is in print or any similar media, that you name me as author. Thanks.
Calling – Simon Peter (Luke 5:1-11)
It was always a calling for me,
Not just a business.
I loved the secret knowledge,
Every pattern of the water,
The ripples only we would spot
Signaling a catch,
Meaning celebration with the men,
And relief for the wives.
Then one day,
A futile night behind us
With nothing to show
For all our exhaustion,
A rabbi came.
Well, he could use my boat to teach,
It was no use to me in daytime
When the fish would see
The shadow of the nets.
I carried on my cleaning,
His words drifting over
My distracted thoughts.
You have to respect a rabbi
But asking me
To let down the nets in daytime,
With them just washed at that?
So, smiling inside at his foolishness,
I let them down,
And, defying all I knew,
A shimmering, wonderful catch
For all of us to share.
And for me that day,
A brand-new start,
A glorious adventure
Which I could never
Have imagined.
Written by Jeannie Kendall, used with permission.
Photo by AMIT UIKEY on Unsplash.
Interested in more poems like this? Jeannie has made this entire Lent poem collection available as a download on Godspace!
by Christine Sine
Last week you may remember, I sacrificed one of my masks to burn on Ash Wednesday. I was amazed at the response to my post. Some loved it as they, like me, were looking for fresh and creative ways to enter Lent this year. The old ways no longer worked for them and they looked forward to the new things God was preparing them for. Others hated it and found the deviation from old traditions offensive.
I love the traditions that give us celebrations like Ash Wednesday but I also strongly believe that we need to anchor these in practices that help us grow into a future that will be very different from the present. That seems to be part of what the time in the desert is all about. It prepares us for something new, something different. It prepares us to move forward beyond the cross to the kingdom. To me, burning old masks and making new ones speaks of preparation for that newness that will emerge from our time in the desert.
As I think about that today, I am reminded of a trip Tom and I made several years ago when we had the privilege of visiting St Catherine’s monastery in the Sinai desert. This is the oldest working monastery in existence, and monastic life in the area dates back to the 4th century. Evidently, at one point, there were something like 3,000 hermits living in the hills around the site. However, the history of St Catherine’s monastery goes much further back than that. Tradition has it that St Catherine’s monastery sits at the base of Mt Sinai. Many believe that is also the site for Moses’ encounter with God in the midst of the burning bush.
I was thinking about this over the weekend and wondering what it must have been like for the Israelites to live out in the desert. It had never struck me before that God did not send them out without a well-seasoned guide. Moses had lived out in the desert before, and if tradition is correct, then he brought them back to the same part of the desert that he was familiar with. Maybe he even brought them back to the home that he had lived in for all those years, the place where he raised his family, the place where he knew how to live without allowing the desert to consume him.
Moses would have known how to find water, how to track the animals and how to provide shelter. And not only did Moses provide guidance and leadership for them, but God also provided a pillar of cloud to guide them through the day and a pillar of fire to light the night. Talk about overkill, but a people who were not used to desert life probably needed a lot of help in finding their way.
As I thought about this, I was reminded of the Australian explorers who ventured into the desert interior of my country. Some of them took aboriginal guides with them, native peoples who knew how to recognize the tracks of animals and signs that water was close. These explorers survived. Others, like Burke and Wills, took no aboriginal guides. They perished in the wilderness.
God does not send us out into the desert to die either and though we may feel that we have been in the wilderness of Lent for a long time this year, we are not without lots of well-seasoned guides either. It is reassuring to know that thousands have walked out into the desert, led by God, before us and not only survived but thrived and have grown in intimacy with God as a result of their experiences.
My own guides are many and varied. There are those I know only by the stories I have read – people like Moses and Aaron who not only guided the Israelites so many thousands of years ago but who continue to inspire and direct us. Others like the Celtic saint Patrick, whose life we celebrate in a couple of weeks, and Julian of Norwich whose life and witness has taken on new significance for me as she was writing during the 14th century in the midst of the plague known as the Black Death, have guided not just my life but all our lives in wilderness times. For most of us, there are other lesser known guides too, like our parents, pastors and friends who have walked both beside and ahead of us through the desert places.
Who are the Moses figures in your life who have wandered in the desert ahead of you and established a home for you? Who are the ones you can rely on to find water, food and shelter for you in desert times and places? Take some time to give thanks to God for them today.
Register and Pay for this virtual Lenten Retreat Experience with Christine Sine and Lilly Lewin! Join live or download later!
To have a contemplative service like this for Lent is invaluable. I hope you enjoy this offering from St Andrews Episcopal church in Seattle as much as I do. The stained glass above is one of a series of stained glass windows at St Andrews for the Stations of the Cross. You can see the entire series in this Stations of the Cross Reflection
A contemplative service with music in the style-of-Taize for the First Sunday in Lent. Carrie Grace Littauer, prayer leader, with music by Kester Limner and Andy Myers.
Permission to podcast/stream the music in this service obtained from One License with license #A-710-756 with additional notes below:
“L’ajuda Em Vindra (I Lift up my Eyes to the Hills)” and “In God Alone my Soul (Mon Ame se Repose)” are songs from the Taize Community. Copyright and all rights reserved by GIA/Les Presses de Taizé.
“Be Thou My Vision” is a traditional Irish hymn, public domain, with arrangement by Andrew Myers and Kester Limner, shared under the Creative Commons License 0.
“Lay Me Low” is a musical setting of a Shaker text is by organist and composer Daniel Schwandt, Music That Makes Community, 2013. Used with permission (musicthatmakescommunity.org).
Thank you for praying with us! www.saintandrewsseattle.org
This year the United Nation’s World Day of Social Justice’s theme is “A Call for Social Justice in the Digital Economy”. Their focus is largely to achieve progress and social justice in the context of globalization in industry and commerce. In their statement on the theme, “The General Assembly recognizes that social development and social justice are indispensable for the achievement and maintenance of peace and security within and among nations and that, in turn, social development and social justice cannot be attained in the absence of peace and security or in the absence of respect for all human rights and fundamental freedoms.”
How can any of this happen if the concept of social justice does not first imbed itself in individuals’ hearts, minds, and consciousness? That social justice is a new concept, comes from the prominence of the term in the news and on social media. However, the concept can be found in the theology of Augustine of Hippo and Thomas Paine’s philosophies. The term was first used explicitly in the 1780’s. The Vienna Declaration and Programme of Action in 1993 felt that social justice is a purpose of human rights education.
What does all this mean in the life of those who follow Christ? How would Christ look at our use of digital platforms? What rules might apply?
Recently, we have seen the digital world having a huge impact. And by those who proclaim Christ. Seeds of disunity have been sown, within governments and families, as well as between individuals. Micah 6:8 states, “He has told you, O man, what is good and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”
Nowhere, in the Word left us by God, does our all-seeing Father say, ‘except, of course, when the digital world arrives all previous teachings will become null and void.’ And yet, we see every day those proclaiming a Christian walk, leaving the love walk behind when it comes to the words left to their fellow man.
Does anyone truly believe, when our fingers become our tongues in the digital world, Divine guidelines change? Does it not grieve the Holy Spirit, as it tells us in Ephesians 4, when instead of beautiful words of encouragement and grace to help others, we turn to bitter words, temper tantrums, revenge, profanity and insults flowing onto our screens? Are our tongues still not “a small part of the body”, that carries great power? James’ warning to think of how small a flame can set a huge forest ablaze seems to still carry weight in the light of recent events.
We are still called to love and uplift our fellow man. We are still called to obey the laws of governments. We are still called to be sowers of peace and unity in a world that has always sowed division. Yes, we are allowed our opinions and differences, but how we express them matters.
It seems to me that both the news, often condensed to misleading headlines on social platforms, and all the digital platforms, used by individuals to convey their own thoughts and reactions, are now strewn with judgements on others extending even to who is and is not a Christian, based on political leanings. Can this ever be okay for those called to love even our enemies? “Judge not, and you will not be judged; condemn not, and you will not be condemned; forgive, and you will be forgiven…” (Luke 6:37 ESV) still seems very real to me.
“For he himself is our peace, who has made the two groups one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility.” (Eph 2:14)
Paul was talking of a racial ethnic divide being healed between Jews and non-Jews. At the time, he wrote of ethnic hatred being dissolved and that peace had to come by starting over—forming one new race of humanity. And yet, within the ether of social media exist groups whose sole purpose is to destroy one another. There are those, who seek to groom others to accepting their beliefs through appealing to their honest emotions with misleading information. We see Christians rationalizing their interest in such groups.
All lives do matter and yet the Bible tells us that there always have been those who are judged as less than, who need our steadfast support and whom we are called to love. Inequity exists and yet we are called to do our part to diminish inequality.
I believe the Bible still calls us to a more excellent standard, based on scripture, whether through our living in the world, in print or on social media. Social Justice, after all, is a call for scriptural justice. Isaiah 10 (ESV) declares, “Woe to those who decree iniquitous decrees, and the writers who keep writing oppression, to turn aside the needy from justice and to rob the poor of my people their right, that widows may be their spoil, and that they may make the fatherless their prey.”
The Bible remains our manual for how we live our lives justly and we do not get to rewrite it. Scripture remains the original call for social justice. In this world of self-promotion, we are called to promote unity through following the Word of God. In our lives, which include our digital lives, we are still called to behave as if for an audience (and ‘Like’) of One.
Philippians 2:3 tells us, “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves.”
Our newest course, Time to Heal Online Course, is available now for purchase! This course provides 5 sessions with Christine Sine, Lilly Lewin, and Bethany Dearborn Hiser each with different approaches and practices to assist in processing grief and healing.
guest post by Ron Friesen,
It is 1988, I am leading an adult Bible study in north Phoenix in a church I helped plant a few years earlier. As I am leading the study on the man born blind (John 9), I am realizing how privileged I am to be in this group. Some are very successful businesspeople, some are in professions like nursing and teaching, and still others are new single parents and several struggle with mental health issues. I divide the group into small groups. I invite them to put themselves into the characters in the story. Some are the blind man, some are parents of the blind man, some are the Pharisees and scribes and some are Jesus. After some struggle, each group enters into the character of their assigned personages. A lively debate ensues.
Bringing the Gospel narrative into the context of my class in 1988, I flip the script and say, “The man is not born blind, however, he has just told you he contracted AIDS. How would you react based on your roles you were just in?” Most group members realized that their roles reflected the varied societal responses to recently disclosed AIDS crisis.
Some wanted to question what sin he had committed? Some wanted to blame the man’s parents for failing to be good parents. Some wanted to pull out the rule book on sexual behavior. Some expressed compassion and wanted to see him healed.
Today on May 25, the issue is not AIDS but social injustice. On this date, one year ago, George Floyd suffocated on a street in Minneapolis while a policeman placed his knee on his neck.
Who are we in the narrative?
Are we the policeman who had his knee on George’s neck?
Are we the fellow policemen who are observing and trying to shield your fellow kneeling officer from the prying eyes of the public?
Are we the person with the telephone video camera taping the scene?
Are we one of the by-standers who is shouting at the policemen?
Are we a passer-by who notices the scene and who keeps walking by?
Perhaps at the date of George Floyd’s death, we were in the role we have been set in by our life experience. A year has passed, in what role are we today? Or are we still in a period of transformation?
It was my privilege to wash the feet of one of the homeless men. “Arnold” told me how he and his wife have been homeless a number of times in the past five years. Various circumstances such as lost jobs and lost housing have caused their homelessness. He was grateful for the attention I paid to him and the service offered.
There is something profoundly intimate in washing the feet of another person. The feet are the place where all nerves come to an ending. This is why the ancient practice of reflexology works miracles for many people.
As I was holding Arnold’s feet, I was wondering where his feet had been in his fifty-plus years. What did they play when they were in school playgrounds? What halls of achievement had they strolled through? Where had these feet moved to seeking relief from suffering and pain? As I gently washed, dried and applied lotion on Arnold’s feet, I prayed for his feet. I prayed they would walk in paths of peace, in ways of love and joy, and in streets of service to his family and his community.
As Arnold was grateful for my service; I am even more grateful for the opportunity to minister in the ways of Jesus, who washes our feet every day.
Bio for Ron Friesen
Ron Friesen, a native of British Columbia, Canada, has resided in Phoenix, Arizona since 1981. As an ordained minister with Mennonite Church, USA, Ron has served as a pastor, hospital chaplain, hospice chaplain and a chaplain with people experiencing homelessness. The last twenty-two years, Ron has been a bi-vocational minister while he worked as a professional mental health counselor in a community health center, a psychiatric hospital and a prison. Ron continues to be an adjunct professor at Grand Canyon University. Ron recently became a Certified Spiritual Director through the Christian Formation and Direction Ministry – Arizona.
Ron is married to June Friesen, a frequent contributor to Godspace. They are the parents of two adult sons and the proud grandparents of two girls who live with their parents in northern Virginia. Ron recently took up photography and hiking as a hobby. Ron’s life purpose is “Love God, love those who love God, and love those who don’t know God loves them.”
Register and Pay for this virtual Lenten Retreat Experience with Christine Sine and Lilly Lewin! Join live or download later!
I’ve been considering what my Lenten focus, Lenten practice, is going to be for this year… and I’m still pondering.
Many of us feel like the entire past year has been a season of Lent… since we’ve given up time with friends and family and all the normal rhythms of life, thanks to the pandemic. We really don’t want the wilderness of Lent, we are truly ready for the joy and celebration of Resurrection and Easter.
Maybe you are just plain exhausted… and the thought of a Lenten Practice is just one more thing on a list that is already too long.
I said last week that maybe you just need to have REST be your practice this Lent.
I truly believe that our culture would be more kind and compassionate if we had more rest and more space for things that restore our souls.
What would it take for you to make REST your Lenten practice this year? Could you do this with your partner or your family? Or with your flatmates/roommates? Could you take an afternoon each week to just BE… or to take a nap or read books, or do a puzzle, leaving technology and screens behind so your mind gets a break? Could you plan a time to just rest with Jesus, allowing Jesus to hold all the stuff you are busy carrying around? How would you feel by Easter if REST were your weekly practice?
Permission to REST for Lent
WRITE YOURSELF A PERMISSION SLIP to allow yourself to REST!
With so many people suffering due to the cold weather and due to the pandemic, fasting something for Lent feels a bit forced or useless. I’ve never been a good faster of food anyway, but I am considering what I might fast in order to draw closer to Jesus between now and Easter. I found this great poem/prayer that is helping me process fasting this Lenten Season.
The Fast Life
Fast from judging others;
Feast on Christ dwelling in them. Fast from fear of illness;
Feast on the healing power of God. Fast from words that pollute;
Feast on speech that purifies.
Fast from discontent;
Feast on gratitude.
Fast from anger;
Feast on patience.
Fast from pessimism;
Feast on hope.
Fast from negatives;
Feast on encouragement.
Fast from bitterness;
Feast on forgiveness.
Fast from self-concern;
Feast on compassion.
Fast from suspicion;
Feast on truth.
Fast from gossip;
Feast on purposeful silence.
Fast from problems that overwhelm; Feast on prayer that sustains.
Fast from anxiety;
Feast on faith.
-Author Unknown
Any of these resonate with you?
Remember that Sundays are Feast days during Lent, so if you do decide to fast something, you don’t have to fast it on Sundays! My friend Professor Maggie Dawn, a theologian in the UK, feels like the entire last year has been a Lenten fast, so she is opting to focus on a saint everyday. She is posting her saint of the day on twitter and you can follow along!
How would you feel by Easter, if you chose to do something that filled your cup and drew you closer to Jesus?
Create something !
Maybe art, or music, or even baking? Or walking in nature? All done with the intention of allowing these things to draw you closer to Jesus.
I realized that I needed more music in my life. We don’t have singing as a part of our thinplaceNASHVILLE practice (it’s hard to sing on Zoom anyway) and I love to sing! I discovered a new to me group called THE PORTER’S GATE and I’m listening to their music each day.
Could you find some new music, or find some old music you love that you haven’t listened to or sung in a long time and make this a part of your day?
We celebrated Shrove Tuesday this week with a virtual pancake gathering and this made me think of something I’d like to practice during this Lenten Season. I’ve wanted to bake cookies for my neighbors all through this crazy year, but haven’t taken the time to do it. I think that this baking never happened because I wanted to make cookies for everyone at once and didn’t see that I could do a few neighbors at a time! Too much perfectionism rather than fun! Baking for me is good therapy. It slows me down and brings me peace. What if baking is my Lenten Practice this year? What if I choose to bake a batch of cookies each week and deliver them to my neighbors? I don’t have to do it all at once! It doesn’t have to be perfect. It can be a prayer practice, praying for my neighbors as I bake, and then giving away the cookies to them. You could even do this as a family practice.
Even if you don’t like baking or don’t want this to be a part of your Lenten experience this year, PUT OUT A LARGE SPOON OR A SPATULA where you will see it everyday and consider what Jesus wants to mix into your life this Lent. What has God been mixing in you lately? What needs more stirring? What is Jesus stirring in you? What recipe is God making through you?
What is Jesus Stirring in you?
Let’s take time to actually consider how we can draw closer to Jesus/God between now and Easter. Even in the midst of a frozen February here in the States, and in Lock Down, and in the land of Covid, we can experience more of Jesus’s peace and presence. Jesus longs for us to just be with him and know that we are his beloved. He is holding us in the palm of his hand.
And if you want to experience a bit of rest, healing and art, this Lent, check out our Healing Workshop or sign up for our Lenten Retreat happening on March 6, 2021.