Dear friends,

Somewhere growing up I learned that you weren’t racist if you ignored the color of everyone’s skin; that if you just treated everyone the same, that was enough. And maybe if you lived in an affluent area where you didn't see daily injustices, that WAS enough. With that mindset I could convince myself that the world was fair and that skin color didn't matter.

Over time, of course, I learned that this point of view is flawed—skin color does matter, as confirmed recently by the death of George Floyd and the subsequent national protests.

I was as appalled as everyone else by the events of these last few days. But it especially hit home for me when I read the words a friend posted on Facebook. 
 
Before I tell you what she wrote, you need to know this is not just “some” Facebook friend. Her name is Amber, and we have known each other since 2008 when I became the director of her church youth group. She and her mother are close friends of our family, invited to graduation parties and family weddings. Amber means a lot to me. Amber also happens to be a black woman.
 
And so I was “listening” as Amber compassionately expressed her weariness and anger over racism in America today. You could tell she was serious and intent as she shared stories from her own life—being followed around in stores, verbally attacked, and dismissed by police. In her post she wrote to her friends, “You should feel uncomfortable with the fact that people are being mistreated due to their skin color.”
 
And I did, as I have before, but this time I felt moved to respond in a new and different way. Because after sharing her fatigue with the situation in our country, Amber—this young, loving, Christian black woman—begged us, her friends, to show what it truly means to love one another.
 
“I personally beg you to do something,” she wrote, “because I’m tired of crying over this. Forgive me if I am asking too much, but I just want to be proud of the world that we live in.”
 
I want that, too. There are so many words that I can’t offer and so many things that I don’t know. But I do know that the suffering is real, the pain is deep, and the tears are many. And I am tired, too.
 
I also know that Jesus tells us where to start—something we already know—we start with loving our neighbor as ourselves. We may believe we are already doing this, but the events of this week make it clear that the way we are loving is not yet enough. We need to further explore what’s going on, so that we might respond—and love more effectively.
 
To that end, I am organizing a parish discussion about racism in America. I haven’t decided what material to use or what format this will take. Considering we’re in the middle of a pandemic, we will probably start with a book study.
 
Note—this is not an attempt to make anyone feel bad. I will do my best to make sure our discussion does not become “political.” It is time, however, for us to grow and focus together on what it means in this day and age to love our neighbor as ourselves, so that we can be proud of the world we live in.
 
May God grant us wisdom and courage, and show us the way.

Rev. Meredith

PS: If you’re a parent looking for ways to discuss race with your children, Parishioner Carrie Fox, Founder and CEO of Mission Partners, invites you to join their summer reading club for raising racially conscious kids.