When I was in seminary, one of the professors of systematic theology was a student and protege of the great Black Theology founder and propounder James Cone. Josiah Young as a tall, beautiful man, elegant, brilliant (he also got a Masters in philosophy under Cornel West while studying at Union Seminary, spoke and wrote several languages, and even published a guide to African theology in French), and angry. I was taking a seminar Young was leading on Barth's theology the spring the LA riots occurred, and I shall never forget how tense things were that first morning when we all wondered whether Washington would explode, as it seemed on the verge of at times; Josiah seemed on the verge of an explosion, too.
He was promoted to full professor my first year, 1990, and gave his sermon during a special chapel service. In that sermon, he confessed his anger which occasionally spilled over to hatred, for whites, based on his own experiences and those of his family and friends. He spoke of day-dreams of "rivers of white blood flowing in the streets". Yet, he also spoke eloquently of how that evil could never overcome the evil of systemic racism, and could only be countered by the love of God, realized in the love of community in solidarity for justice. In the first class I attended after that sermon, one woman was in tears because she stopped listening after she heard Josiah talk of his anger and wishes for violence.
Barack Obama's former pastor, Rev. Jeremiah Wright, made comments in a similar vein, pointing the prophetic finger of blame at the hubris and arrogance of white America for so much of our current predicament. It is a diagnosis that should be unsurprising to anyone paying attention, yet people still get all vapory, swooning at the thought of blacks actually standing on their two feet shouting, "J'accuse!" The situation is made worse by racists who not only refuse to accept this diagnosis, but tell white folks who do accept it that we suffer from something imaginary known as "white guilt". After all, I've never lynched anyone, or owned slaves, so I can't possibly be responsible for the plight of African-Americans, can I?
My experience with Dr. Young taught me a lot. Not just him, but my friends Alpha Brown and Rodney Graves and Anthony Arrington all taught me to see the world a little differently, to enter imaginatively in to the lives of others whose life experiences, and the experience of the communities of which they are a part, are far different from my own. I left behind the sheltered, privileged cocoon of my race, class, and up-bringing and understood something I might not have but for the intervention of these individuals - that the promise of America is a shameful lie to large minorities of American citizens (not just African-Americans, but Latinos, women, and others), and the historic legacy of these folks is often stolen and turned against them. Reading Rev. Wright's sermon, I was reminded that the prophetic voice of black America is not dead, and carries the uncomfortable message that we must own the responsibility for the mess we've made, or we shall perish.
Today, Barack Obama gave a speech in which he managed to say what needed to be said - this is an opportunity to speak about race candidly that should not be lost because a bunch of racists get all skittish at the thought that some black folk might be angry. Of course, those racists have the bulk of the power, including the power to direct our discourse down trivial side roads that have nothing to do with the real issues before us. Without distancing himself or embracing too closely the specifics of the Rev. Wright's words, Obama managed to change the subject, making it a challenge for a serious conversation on race, moving beyond the obvious rut we've been in, with the words of Dr. King emanating from the mouths of those who wished him ill while he was alive (all that bleating about "content of their character" is taken wholly out of context, and distorted to mean the exact opposite of what he intended; color-blindness is a genetic deformity, not an elevated social condition).
While Obama has not tried to be "the black candidate", neither has he shied away from making clear that, like Justice Thurgood Marshall said in an interview after he retired, "not a day goes by that I don't wake up knowing I'm a Negro". The reality of race in America is too deeply ingrained to ever overcome that hurdle. Yet, discussions of race have been forbidden for far too long in this country, with the rules set by those whose only desire is not to hear black voices that a real discussion, an honest argument is almost impossible as things stand.
So, we have a choice before us. A largely fabricated controversy is creating a set of conditions in which we as a country can start, perhaps for the first time, to talk about race and culture and politics. Do we grasp this particular bull by the horns? Do we do what needs to be done? Or do we, collectively, remember that our responsibility and guilt weigh far too much, and give over and silence the voices that call us to account?
UPDATE: Glenn Greenwald is quite clear on why this entire hubbub is largely an invention. The fantasies of John Hagee, the psychosis of Pat Robertson, and the divisive hatred of Jerry Falwell are all perfectly acceptable while the prophetic voice of conscience is somehow out of bounds as serious discourse. It isn't just weird, it's wrong. Obviously, the color of the preachers has much to do with it. The three white evangelical, dispensationalist, and Baptist preachers mentioned do not threaten our sense of ourselves as good and true Americans, called by God to save the Universe. Wright, on the other hand, calls us by the name we dare not speak, and reminds us that our success as a nation is floating on a sea of blood, built largely by those in chains and denied their humanity. That is the difference. The three whites lie. Wright, on the other hand, speaks prophetic truth far too real to be acceptable.
