From Erik and the Session
City Church Family,
The last four nights I’ve laid in bed listening to the drone of a police plane circling above our city. I’ve woken to texts from friends, checking that our family is safe and okay. I don’t share that as a complaint but as an un-ignorable indicator of the brokenness and pain that has gripped Richmond over the last week. Videos of vigilante (in)justice carried out against Ahmaud Arbery and the too-familiar death of George Floyd by suffocation while in police custody in Minneapolis have catalyzed outrage and protests through our nation.
During our weeks in quarantine I repeatedly accompanied my youngest child and one of her friends to Lee Circle, three blocks from our home. The wide grass field surrounding the granite monument base is, for them, an appealing setting for bike riding and other games. The insouciance of childhood and the familiarity of the everyday obscures the loaded-ness of a symbol which has become the epicenter of protests against systemic injustice.
Richmond’s streets—especially Monument Avenue—are now the scene of tense encounters between protesters and law enforcement. Richmond seizes with racial tension. Richmond cries for justice. Many of us have been frightened reading the newspaper and scrolling our newsfeeds seeing familiar sites of our city in a new light: tagged with graffiti, set on fire, clouded in the haze of tear gas.
On behalf of the leadership of City Church, I want to convey our deep sadness that the city we love—and are called to love—is in turmoil and I want to offer a few postures to shape our faithful response.
A posture of solidarity.
As a white male pastor of an overwhelmingly white and resourced congregation, I am hesitant to say much of anything. I don’t have prescriptions. I can’t offer solutions. I’m even fearful of saying or doing the wrong thing, but that’s no reason to remain inert. Now is a time to listen to and amplify other voices. A posture of solidarity recognizes and validates the experience and long-endured pain of our black brothers and sisters.
Yesterday I listened to a sermon by an African-American pastor from Chicago named Charlie Dates who gives voice to the historical experience of blacks in America. He preaches powerfully about how the phrase “I can’t breathe” is not simply a cry for help from the gasping lips of Eric Garner or George Floyd, but an affront to the shared humanity of all who descend from Adam, into whom God breathed breath at creation.
Pastor Dates reminds Christians that God’s Word is our lodestar: it provides rich theological insight into our common condition as beautiful ruins, all. A posture of solidarity acknowledges and affirms the image of God in all people. It allows us to state unhesitatingly, “Black lives matter.” It allows us to honor those who have died by saying their names. It helps us to share in the tears of those who weep. It helps us to feel the righteous anger of those protesting generations of oppression. It helps us listen.
A posture of repentance.
If the image of God grounds our posture of solidarity, an understanding of human depravity grounds our posture of repentance. At the core of the Christian faith is a commitment to the habit of ongoing repentance. God’s Word tells us that on this side of the mountain no one, and no thing, is untouched by sin.
As we become aware of more and deeper ways we’ve been complicit in approving or sustaining sinful action and unjust systems, we must enter more deeply into repentance. Four years ago our denomination adopted a resolution recommitting itself to “the gospel task of racial reconciliation.” Following that resolution, two years ago, we received and accepted a report on racial reconciliation with recommendations that remain germane. That report encourages local churches to walk in repentance by: holding one another accountable to the biblical commands of neighbor-love, addressing the topic of race through our liturgy and preaching, equipping church members for the work of reconciliation, and partnering with other organizations that are advancing such work in our community. We must continue to bear these fruits of repentance—individually and collectively.
A posture of prayer.
Just as biblical theology grounds our postures of solidarity and repentance, so it informs our posture of prayer. We are dependent—ever and always—on God. Karen Ellis, an African-American writer and teacher says, “People will mock those who prioritize prayer. Gather and pray anyway.” There will be some who say that prayer is not enough. And while prayer alone is not a sufficient response, it is a necessary response. For me—in the sadness and anger and confusion I feel right now—prayer is where I need to start.
Other postures come more easily—to reach for my phone to watch another video or read another article; to avoid hard emotions and questions through frivolous distraction. But I need to pray. Jesus meets me in prayer. By prayer the Spirit leads me—and will lead us—into faithful action for justice in our city and nation.
To that end the Session of City Church is calling for a Day of Prayer this Friday, June 5. We’ll provide further structure and guidance for your praying later in the week. While it feels particularly challenging to respond to this fraught moment in the midst of COVID-19 restrictions and an absence of the embodied community we so desperately want, we trust that through prayer the Spirit will unite the church in the bond of peace.
This morning as the curfew lifted in Richmond, I walked three block to Lee Circle. As my steps traced its circumference, I pledged solidarity with the cries of the wounded and oppressed. I spoke out loud the names of a few—among many—of the image bearers who have died unjustly: Marcus-David Peters, Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, George Floyd.
I repented of the sin of racism in me and in the structures from which I benefit. I asked the Spirit to reveal deeper places in me that need to be healed and to lead me to bear fruit in line with my repentance.
And I prayed. I prayed for justice and for peace. I prayed for Jesus to come and heal us with His touch. I lamented: It is not yet, but it will be.
Let us not cower from this moment in the life of our city. Instead let us commit ourselves again to the faithful postures of doing justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly with our God (Micah 6:8).
For the City Church Session,
Erik