The Conversation Isn’t Over…
Throughout this term, our group’s discussions around African-American Liberation Theology have been raw, honest, full of curiosity, and laden with grief in response to a theology born out of oppression and the experience of African-Americans who still face systemic and personal trauma on a daily basis. African-American Liberation Theology is, at its core, a theology that both acknowledges the impact of trauma and demands action in response to it. We were honored as a group to listen to and learn from voices that have spoken despite the prevalent racism and oppression that would seek to silence them. We all gained clearer pictures of how deep systemic oppression runs and what the call to action in African-American Liberation Theology demands from each of us — both white and black.
The core of African-American Liberation Theology is that hope can be realized now and should be pursued actively by all. James Cone in Eschatology said “To believe in heaven is to refuse to accept hell on earth” (p. 141). The urgency of liberation theology is reminiscent of the urgency with which Christ commanded his followers to take action when he was gone. Christ did not emphasize life after death, but rather focused on fighting oppression and building communities in the present. African-American Liberation Theology follows that same path as it voices the present struggles and hope for the abolition of systemic and individual oppression.
Although we were all familiar with systemic oppression, Eyerman’s book on cultural trauma was eye-opening, thought provoking, and deeply sobering. Our individual traumas gave us a glimpse into a vast and pervasive trauma experienced by African-Americans most often at the hands of white people with power. Through one group members experiences of both cultural trauma and individual trauma as an African-American man, we all gained a glimpse of how deeply impactful cultural trauma has been and continues to be. His willingness to approach areas of deep harm in the midst of the white privilege the rest of us have was so brave, so bold, and so beautiful in light of the generations worth of silencing he and other African-Americans have experienced. His willingness to share his own experiences with the rest of us was above and beyond anything this class asked of him and was filled with a hope that such conversations will continue and be had in the context of action.
Our group was able to interact around not only what we were reading, but also our personal experiences. We all shared a sense of honor to be able to come to terms with our own contributions or experiences of systemic and individual oppression. Our group holds a deep desire to continue to approach areas of diversity, discomfort, and shame in order to grieve what has been, hope for what can be, and move towards that hope moment by moment. These conversations are not meant to be had by white people sitting in a classroom of privilege. These conversations are meant to be had on the ground, to be experienced alongside our fellow humans, and to be treasured for the glimpses of hope that they are. A conversation about diversity — but without diversity — is little more than a cerebral exercise.
A pursuit of heaven on earth demands that these conversations continue and that these conversations be face-to-face, human to human, honest, and ultimately conversations that take place in the midst of action. The story of oppression is not over and the work we all have to do is vast.
In light of such urgency, and to paraphrase Jesus(?), GO. DO. LOVE.
