From Mark - History Was Made Last Night

This post is from Mark, a reflection he wrote a few days ago.

Dear Urban Family,

No matter who you voted for…or if you chose not to vote…history was made last night and Jennifer and the boys and I felt like we had front row seats! Again, regardless of who you voted for I am sure you all have some idea of what this election meant to our African-American brothers and sisters! Some of whom remembering like it was yesterday when they were kept from voting because of the color of their skin. They remember those who died trying to make a day like yesterday possible! The feelings and emotions you may have witnessed on the television screen, or like us, shared with your neighbors and friends come from a deep well of suffering and hope that is hard for those of us of “lighter” hue to understand. What a privilege it has been to rejoice and shed tears with dear friends.

It was something to be here in Chicago for this day and it was something to stand in line for an hour at Crown Academy across the street from our house with senior citizens inching forward clinging to their walkers and young men and women who had never voted before. In our 18 years here there has never been a line that extended out the door let alone down the street where it was when i joined it at 6:15a. Everyone was talking, everyone had a smile and the atmosphere was pregnant with the feeling that we were participating in something that was historical no matter what the final count was going to be.

It was something to ride the “El” with Dane after school down town and, even though we couldn’t stay for the main event, it was amazing to walk around and see the people starting to arrive, to see the stage and the fenced off areas which we saw again later on TV filled to overflowing with people. It was amazing to start receiving text messages from around the country from African-American friends and White friends who have spent time here in the city with us.

There have been many stories and many conversations that have felt like moments frozen in time. I wish we could sit down and share our and hearts and hear yours….maybe we can do some of that at the Urban Conf coming up in May 2009. I will share two of the most moving experiences for me.

The first was a voicemail I received at 5am on Wednesday Nov 5 from Mrs Harris, who is our Block Club President and Great Grandmother, grandmother, and mother who retired after working for 47 years a few years ago. She is one of the “Angel/Saints” that live on our block here on the West Side of this great city. Some of you have heard me tell a story or two about our Mentor and friend. Tears rolled down my face as she tried to put into words what she was feeling. She rejoicing in something that she never thought she would see in her life time. She rejoiced in the hope this gave the young men standing on the corner in our neighborhood. She recalled leaving Mississippi when she was 13, “Ya know Mark, they were hangin us down there then!” and she remembers her Grandmother telling her to “get out of this place and don’t ever look back honey”. She talked about the years we’ve spent walking and working together to transform our neighborhood and how blessed we were to have each other and maybe now there was hope for the whole country. There was more…but there’s not room…so ask me next time we see each other to let you listen…cause this is one voicemail I won’t be erasing.

And then the ph call i got from my good friend and IT colleague Todd Burkes who is African-American who has served with IT in Paris France for about 12 years now. It was 5am in Paris. He had just watched and listened to Obama’s acceptance speech. As he tried to tell me what he was feeling…he wept. Todd and I have shared many tears together over the years as we have tried to wrestle with this still festering wound of racism that is part of our countries legacy and still permeates our psyche as a nation. He emailed me today and told me to check his latest entry on his blog (click here to read). He has a great blog, and has been doing a lot of writing the past weeks on the election. If you are at all interested in a different perspective…an African-American Evangelical Missionary to France who loves Jesus deeply and follows Jesus in way that challenges me every time i get together with him or talk with him…then check out his blog at http://followhim.typepad.com/.

Again, i think we can appreciate these stories regardless of who we voted for. Jen, the boys and I continue to feel humbled and privileged to be part of this neighborhood and our little church on the “West” side. We have learned so much from a people whose Faith is deeply rooted and influenced by a story that includes deep suffering and injustice.
WE STILL HAVE MUCH TO LEARN!

Still Seeking Peace for Our City!
mark

I heard an interesting article on racism and the church on NPR.  I only caught the end of it but found this on their website.  Then there were a few comments from responding listeners that typify some of the views on the subject.

The Election and Racism

What do you all think will be the impact on racism of having our first African-American president?

Secondarily, do you feel like it will be any easier to have some of these discussions about our experiences on the trip, now that the build up to the election is over?

My thoughts:

I don't know that having a black president will necessarily translate into decreased racism, just more tolerant language, maybe more tolerance, which I take to be simply ignoring the underlying issue. I think it will require us to be just as diligent and intentional as when there was a white president, maybe even more because now people can point to a black president and say "Hey racism must be dead. I don't have to deal with the issue anymore." I do believe however that it will get more of the issues out on the table if we allow it and don't sweep it under the rug.

I feel like what I learned in Chicago can now come out with out ruffling as many political feathers because what has been done has been done.

Update...

Grant's parents came down this weekend, and i had to relearn again the things that i had forgotten since Chicago. I kind of forgot that everyone i knew didn't get to go to Chicago and experience the things we did, and learn the way we did, and get affected by the city. I suppose guess i have been more aware since our trip, but i can see that i am at the very start of the journey of racial reconciliation in my own life, much less the journey of trying to push racial reconciliation within the church. Its an exciting place to be because there is such a large opportunity for growth.

Caitlyn was reminding me that even though i think we are on a tiny island amidst the sea of racism, systemic and individual, in the church, i can find hope when i remember that there are people working toward reconciliation, and that God is working through these people. I can find hope that the Father thinks individuals are of eternal significance.

In light of all of this, Ian and myself are hopefully going to show A Time For Burning to our suites sometime in the next few weeks. Though i'm not naive enough to believe that we are going to be changing everyone's, or even anyone's, life when it comes to reconciliation, pray that we can at least have some meaningful discussion with people. That we could all find where God's heart is in the issue.

John

How God Feeds Me

How does God feed me, my soul, my spirit?

I spent a week at a college, with students who want nothing but to serve God. Through long, late nights, endless conversations pumped with caffeine, I think I recognize God's Spirit amongst the teachable hearts. They aren't perfect. And they might even be transporting a Gopsel that is lacking. They might be transporting a "white gospel." Still, I'm able to manage my concern over that because of the hopeful, learner type attitudes that are everywhere.

And then I come home. I come home to a weekend, with more college students. (That would be you guys for those of you reading this blog). Hope upon Hope. I had an even more hopeful weekend as the students were honest, insightful, and pushed me to go deep. I hate to admit it, but I often enter those weekends with a bit of fear. By "those" weekends, I mean weekends that we invite others to come into our neighborhood, our home. We often get comments about how crazy we are, or how wrong we are. Not with this group. This group wanted to listen. And even if they didn't agree with everything, they were willing to let God speak into what they should take away from the time. There was love, tears, stories. Stories of the poor as real people. One person even said that homelessness lost its "romantic, wonderer like Jesus type feel" That's been my prayer for the past two months. My prayer was, "God, we talk about the poor so much, but do we romanticize their plight and pain? When we host students are we just exposing them enough to do more harm than good?" The answer is no. And I can say that because of how beautifully this group gave of their heart and how much they pushed me toward holiness.

And now, downstairs we have another group. And I'm remembering the pain again. The pain of comments tainted with such racism. The pain of being told we're wrong and there isn't any problem. The pain of being told this in our own home.

But I don't remain in hopelessness. I go back to last weekend. I go back to the graffiti wall that we kept up:) And I say to God, "I trust you more than myself. I give over my need to fix the church to you, and I trust you to fill me with your love, grace, and justice."

so i need

Mark Soderquist's email...por favor?

I'll get back and post something "for real" later.

BRAINSTORM: what now?

I'm a big picture person, so I was relieved when I was able to write down a "if you don't remember anything else, remember this" statement in my notebook on Monday night. It's all about relationship and understanding. I begin to learn how to help my oppressed brother—be he black, poor, or any other sort of underprivileged—when I enter into relationship with him and try to understand him. That's when the gospel becomes more real to me. That's when the gospel becomes more real to him.

So here's my question: How do we at JBU enter into those relationships? 

That isn't a rhetorical question. I want to know real answers, so I'd appreciate it if people would just through out one-sentence ideas. Don't worry about their feasibility; brainstorm.

I'll throw out a few ideas that have been swirling around in my head:

Go to the Spanish church on 412. I've been there once and they were really welcoming. Yes, it's in Spanish, and that means I don't get much of it, but I'm more concerned about the relationships. But going once doesn't build relationships. I wonder if there's a service each week during a time I'm not usually at First Pres. Maybe something that's less teaching-based so that I can work on building relationships (and not have to try to track a long sermon in a language I don't know that well)...

Capitalize on the relationships I already have here at JBU. I know some Hispanic students beyond just an acquaintance level. Maybe try to meet with them for lunch? That seems really formal and uptight, but I'm not sure what else would be feasible.

Where are we?

I don't have time to post much at the moment but look forward to it a little later. But the thing that has hit me this time even more than last time is mini-culture shock. Where am I? I have heard several students make similar comments as well. It just feels odd to be back here. Don't get me wrong, it was incredible to sit with my wife and talk face to face rather than over a cell phone. And my kids' hugs squeezed away a lot of heaviness. A morning at the library and the park sliding and chasing were so wonderful. Nevertheless, I desire to be back in the midst of dealing with things that "really" matter. And yet I am called to be right here. The discussions are so much harder on this side of things without the faces of Pops, Willie, Victor, Paco, Derrick, and others. Here it all seems to be theory. Part of me desperately longs to reenter the reality of the situation.

My prayer: O Lord, fill me with your spirit, that I might boldly explore, discuss, and engage my current "place" with all of its prejudices, opinions, political agendas, religious rhetoric, and real people loved by you. May the truth of my experience and the words of your "prophets" not become lost and mired in the comfort, ease, and busyness of this "place".

Getting Started

Hello all,

Once again, you should know what an encouragement you were this weekend. A few things to get us started:

• If you would prefer to not have your email associated with the authors list, just let me know, and I'll take you off the list. No problem.
• We'll be working out the kinks here in the beginning, so bear with us! :)
• This blog will allow everyone from the trip to write (if he/she wants to write). It will also allow everyone from the trip to comment. It will allow anyone at all (blogger users, non blogger users) to view the blog, but they will not be able to comment. Comments can only be made by your group. If you would like to inquire about the settings, just shoot me an email and we can talk.
  
• Please do not feel any pressure to utilize this resource. We recognize that not everyone will wish to process in this way. Let's remember that just because someone isn't sharing his/her writing doesn't mean he/she isn't processing. It might just be too personal to share via blog.
  
• Please respect the privacy of people's identities within stories (i.e. change names etc, even if you think they will never read this).
• Let's find the balance between gentleness, boldness, and respect in conversation here. A blog can be an interesting but vulnerable place to discuss personal experiences and issues, so let's be sensitive when others share.
  
• More than discussing issues, this is a great place to share experiences you have in the future which demonstrate some of the values you might have explored on this trip.

Walking the Journey Together--