Category: community

Stay Safe Stay Strong Live Life

by Gordon Street III, Commissioned Minister for Reimagining and Connecting with the God of One’s Own Understanding

“Stay Safe Stay Strong Live Life!”

That’s how I end my Facebook Messenger outreach messages. I need to remind myself and give others a focus point . My original intent was to reach out to seek and give support at the beginning of the pandemic. I just wanted to make sure everyone was ok and let them know they were not alone . As time passed my messages evolved to offering words of hope and light. Staying connected during the pandemic is and was very important to me. What began as a simple outreach, Facebook Messenger became a great tool for me and part of my ministry.

I share words of inspiration and acknowledge the struggle. Early in the morning I search for inspirational pictures and connect them to my outreach message. I continue to get responses that range from “Thanks” to “I really need that today” to “I look forward to your messages” and “your words of hope and light helped me through difficult moments.”

Well over a year of outreach and still going strong . I have moments when I think “what do I say today” and often Spirit speaks to me with inspiration. As with all my outreach, I don’t expect a reply—that’s not the point of why I do it. I share the Love, Grace, and Hope that God gives to me. I have to give away what has so graciously given to me.

Hope all is well.

Stay Safe Stay Strong Live Life

Humbled to be an American

by Rev. Dr. Barb Doerrer-Peacock

The phrase…the song, “Proud to be an American” has always caused me to bristle. It was no different during this year’s Independence Day celebration. It has the strange, paradoxical effect of evoking both revulsion and tears of compassion. How is that possible? It pulls in me both the worst of American arrogance and exceptionalism, but also the swelling of gratitude for ultimate sacrifice and high values. 

On July 4th, my husband Rich also was bristling at the song. He asked, “What’s the opposite of ‘proud’?” He was trying to figure out what exactly he felt about our nation these days. I had the same impulse. What do I feel, after 16 months of pandemic, after watching our country go through years of elected leadership that brought democracy to the brink of destruction, betrayed the trust of allies around the world, manifest the worst of the “ugly American” stereotype, and even now continues to threaten those lofty values by polarization of fears, distrust and demonizing others – both other Americans and non-Americans. We’ve experienced 16 months of ugly truths and hidden histories revealed, heard the cries of the oppressed, seen protests in the streets, and what feels like chaos reigning in our capitol, and people dying, dying, still dying – so many refusing the very serum that could save their lives, often because of the insidious erosion of trust.

I replied to him, “humble.” Humble is the opposite of proud. That caused us both to stop in our tracks and look at each other. Humble. I am humbled to be an American. That is indeed the right word.

I am a person of great privilege which I did nothing to deserve or earn. It was the system I was born into, and my skin is the right color. Yes, those who served in the United States military fought and sometimes died for our freedoms, our way of life, our privileges…and I am a grateful American. But I’m also keenly aware that so did many thousands, maybe millions of Indigenous people who died as a result of colonization from White Europeans. So did kidnapped and enslaved Africans and their descendants who constructed much of the American economy and infrastructure yet reaped little benefit, or even fair share, and instead inherited an inequitable system within which they have always been kept at a disadvantage. So did Asian, Pacific Islander, Hispanic and Latino, Middle Eastern immigrants, refugees, asylum-seekers, indentured workers, all who found their way either by will or by force, either seeking a better life for their families, or to escape horrors in their homelands.  I could go on reciting what now is a litany coming to light.

I am humbled to be an American. Some of my forbears were the White European colonizers, some of them escaping tyranny in their homeland…some of them – maybe all of them – bringing that unhealed trauma with them. I am growing in understanding of my own ancestral history that bore the ugly stains of flawed humanity. Yet, I am here and I’m humbled to be an American. For all its flaws…there are ideals that somehow, in some way survived the dysfunctions, the abuses, the greed, the lies told.  It is those that make my heart swell with gratitude. Yes…freedom, justice for all, equality and equity, and the embracing of all who seek refuge and a better life. We may not yet have achieved those ideas, but many of us still hold them, live for them, die for them.

I am humbled to be an American because I share the paradoxical heritage of this country, the push and pull, the fears and joys, the confusion and clarity, the power and vulnerability, the flaws and the ideals, the One out of Many, the harmonies of culture woven from the many threads of tradition. I am humbled because I can be both privileged yet repentant. I am humbled because I am so deeply enriched by those whose ancestral journeys have been so impoverished yet also triumphant and heroic.  I am humbled because I know myself and my country would be incomplete and so much poorer if it were not for the rainbow of earth’s human diversities that are represented here. I would not know God in the same way, I would not know our government in the same way, our natural environment, our sense of justice, the songs we sing and play, the art we make if it were not for each other, no matter if I call you friend or enemy.

I am humbled to be an American. My July 4th prayer is that God will keep my heart open, broken – yet healing, repentant and also repairing, humbled…yet also swelling with grateful joy.

My First Tattoo

by Rev. Deb Worley

“…at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered,
because each one heard them speaking
in the native language of each.
Amazed and astonished, they asked, ‘
Are not all these who are speaking Galileans?
And how is it that…in our own languages
we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power?’”
(Selected verses from Acts 2, NRSV)

“You’re the coolest minister I’ve ever met.” 
 

So said the tattoo artist who gave me my first ever tattoo, just a few weeks ago, at Talisman BodyArt in Santa Fe. To honor the struggle she and we have been through in the past eighteen months, and the progress she has made, and the commitment we both have to her full recovery, Sarah had invited me to join her in getting a tattoo that she had designed, based on the logo for NEDA, the National Eating Disorders Association. 

In spite of my very real fear that the pain would be excruciating and I would not be able to keep myself from screaming, sobbing, passing out, or otherwise completely embarrassing myself, I took a deep breath and agreed. Truth be told, I felt honored by her invitation. And besides, on the verge of turning the ripe old age of 52, I decided it was high time I got my first tattoo! 

I went first—knowing that if I watched Sarah get hers, I might very well bolt, never to return again, and I really did want to do this. Jordan, the tattoo artist, was a lovely young woman who, as it turned out, had grown up in Los Alamos. She had been doing tattoos for several years and, when she found out she would be giving me my first one, quickly and graciously put me at ease.  

When she was ready to start the actual tattooing, she told me she would do one small section and then check in with me to see how I was doing. I had, of course, shared my fear and dread with her! I told her I was ready, and looked away, looking instead at Sarah, who was sitting on the other side of me. She smiled at me, and I smiled back, putting on a brave face and bracing myself for the pain. And then Jordan began. 

I waited for a moment as the tattoo pen she was using whirred…and then I said, “That’s it??” And she smiled and said, “Yep.” And I, with a mixture of pride and profound relief, exclaimed, “I’ve had three babies with no anesthesia! This is nothing!” Phew….

As she worked, Jordan chatted with Sarah and me, cheerfully answering the questions I asked her about growing up in Los Alamos, about other art she enjoys, about her work, etc. At one point, when there was a lull in the conversation, she asked me, “So what do you do?” 

I looked at Sarah, and we both laughed. And I looked back at Jordan and said, “I’m a pastor.” 

Jordan: “Really?!?!?” 

Me: “Really.” 

Jordan: “Wow! That’s cool!”

Sarah: “Have you ever tattooed a minister before?”

Jordan: “I’m pretty sure I have not! But that’s so cool! I’ll be able to brag to my friends about this!” Pause… “You’re definitely the coolest minister I’ve ever met.” 

By the time we left, Sarah and I had these deeply meaningful tattoos: 

And a very memorable shared experience. And I think that Jordan will remember it, too. I can’t say for sure, but I hope she remembers it as a time when a minister-mom broke some stereotypes, leaving judgment at the door and offering acceptance instead, stepping away from condemnation and stepping into her world with curiosity, extending kindness and respect along with my arm. And I hope that maybe, through our interactions, Jordan was able to hear something about the goodness of God in a language she could understand…. 

In what ways do those we encounter who are not part of the “church-going club” hear us speaking about God? Do we speak in “languages” they can understand? 

God, help us… Amen.

Peace, and the power of translation, be with us all.
Deb

Racism’s Impact on People of Color—RBTS

by Kay F. Klinkenborg

The effect of racism on mental health has a name: Race-based Traumatic Stress (RBTS).

I write this to honor the Juneteenth “Day of Freedom.”  It is important and a crucial time for the church to be informed of the importance of freedom and ending racism; for the mental and physical well being of people of color.

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (most commonly referred to as PTSD) became a familiar term following post- Vietnam war era replacing ‘shell shock syndrome’ from WWI and WWII. 

Today there is specific identifying language regarding the trauma of racism on mental health.   Most commonly used is Race-based Traumatic Stress (RBTS)1.  RBTS has not been used as a medical condition but is recognized as a response to a consistent/life-long exposure to racism, discrimination, structural racism and all its implications.  It is the world in which people of color live that white people don’t experience.

In 2002, B.F. Butts2  documented the correlation between racial/ethnic discrimination and PTSD.  From 2005 to now I found ample empirical evidence that attests to the nature and impact of racial trauma on victims.  Should we be surprised?   No!   Are we alert and connected to the reality of those who live under racism daily?  “There is a cumulative traumatizing impact of racism on racialized individuals, which can include individual acts of racism combined with systemic racism, and typically includes historical, cultural, and community trauma as well.”1   American citizens and physicians (in general) are behind the eight ball in applying known medically detrimental stressors and their impact on the mental and physical well-being of POC.

Studies show that White supremacist ideology, the belief in White biological or cultural superiority that serves to maintain the status quo of racial inequality, is deeply integrated in dominant culture values (Liu et al., 2019).4  This consistent racist milieu is destroying lives and our democracy.

“Racism…Corrosive Impact on the Health of Black Americans” was aired on 60 minutes on April 18, 2021.  Dr. David R. Williams, a Harvard Researcher was interviewed by Bill Whitaker.  Williams gave a poignant example of the impact of racism on Blacks in America: “Imagine if you will, a plane  with 220 Black people crashes today and they all die.  Every day in America 220 Black people die prematurely.”5

For decades, the medical community has known that stressors impact physical health and can shorten life expectancy.  What is vital for us to understand is that RBTS is a day-in and day-out lived experience. And that trauma shortens lives significantly and creates mental stress beyond the norm of one significant time, or short duration of traumatic stress in one’s life.  The severity of being in ‘war’ has alerted us to PTSD. BUT we are now learning that a life-time of exposure to racism is detrimental and dangerous to POC and there are life-time impacts of Race- based Traumatic Stress.

A variety of symptoms/behaviors are observed (but not limited to): hypervigilance, depression, low levels of ethnic identity, low self-efficacy, low self-esteem, anger, recurring disruptive thoughts of racist encounters/events, chest pains, insomnia, mental distancing from traumatic events, a variety of medical long-term negative impacts, etc.1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11,12

 “It is important to note that unlike PTSD, RBTS is not considered a mental health disorder. RBTS is a mental injury that can occur as the result of living within a racist system or experiencing events of racism.” 2

Unequivocally, racism experienced by all people of color is shortening their lifespans, decreasing their quality of life and creating a constant state of anxiety and fear. What should be White Christian’s response to these chronic living conditions?  More crucial, why are we allowing this to continue?  If we are all created in the image of God, all people are equal. Apostle Paul write in Galatians 3:28: : “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” (NIV)  Dare we not add:  ‘neither White or people of color’?

Jesus demonstrated for us numerous examples of contact/concern/compassion for persons who are: marginalized, oppressed, economically disadvantaged, those living in disparaging social conditions and lack of physical and mental health resources.

White supremacy does not believe these two quotes: 1) “Every person has equal value”. The Gates Foundation mission statement.  2) “You have never locked eyes with a person who is not worth of freedom, liberty, connection and belonging.” Stated by: Kori Carew, Black female lawyer, feminist, and activist. 

And as recent as the events that DID NOT happen in Tulsa over Memorial Day Weekend, 2021 to recognize the 100 year anniversary of the Tulsa Massacre (Greenwood Black community demolished and over 300 dead, and thousands displaced, John Legend stated: “The road to restorative justice is crooked and rough—and there is space for reasonable people to disagree about the best way to heal the collective trauma of white supremacy. But one thing that is not up for debate—one fact we must hold with conviction—is that the path to reconciliation runs through truth and accountability.”13

 I believe we have a moral and ethic responsibility to work toward ending racism. That begins with me!  The Hebrew Scripture prophet Micah understood this urgent need 1000’s of years ago:  “To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” (NIV, Micah 6:8).

                                                                                                     

REFERENCES

1Mental Health America website, 2021.   www. https://www.mhanational.org/  “Our Commitment to

Anti-racism.”

2Butts, H. F. (2002). The black mask of humanity: Racial/ethnic discrimination and post-traumatic stress disorder. The Journal of the American Academy of Psychiatry and the Law, 30(3), 336–339

2Mental Health America website, 2021.   www. https://www.mhanational.org/  “Our Commitment to

Anti-racism.”

3Carter, R.T., et al. (2017) Race-based traumatic stress, racial identity statuses, and psychological functioning: An explanatory investigation.  Professional Psychology: Research and Practice, 48(1), 30-37.  

-3-

4 Liu, W. M., et al. (2019). Racial trauma, microaggressions, and becoming racially innocuous: The role of acculturation and White supremacist ideology. American Psychologist, 74(1), 143–155.

5Willliams, D. R., Whitaker,B (interviewer). (May 2021).”Racism…Corrosive Impact on the Heath of Black Americans.” 60 Minutes weekly TV news report. Complete interview: https://cbsn.ws/2OYeu70.

 6Helms, J. E., Nicolas, G., & Green, C. E. (2010). Racism and ethno-violence as trauma: Enhancing professional training. Traumatology, 16(4), 53-62.

7Carter, R. T., Mazzula, S., Victoria, R., Vazquez, R., Hall, S., Smith, S., . . . Williams, B. (2013). Initial development of the Race-Based Traumatic Stress Symptom Scale: Assessing the emotional impact of racism. Psychological Trauma: Theory, Research, Practice, and Policy, 5(1), 1-9.

8 Cheng, H. -L., & Mallinckrodt, B. (2015). Racial/ethnic discrimination, posttraumatic stress symptoms, and alcohol problems in a longitudinal study of Hispanic/Latino college students. Journal of Counseling Psychology, 62(1), 38–49.

9Flores, E., et al. (2010). Perceived racial/ethnic discrimination, posttraumatic stress symptoms, and health risk behaviors among Mexican American adolescents. Journal of Counseling Psychology, 57(3), 264–273.

10Holmes, S. C., Facemire, V. C., & DaFonseca, A. M. (2016). Expanding Criterion A for posttraumatic stress disorder: Considering the deleterious impact of oppression. Traumatology, 22(4), 314–321.

11Gone, J. P., et al. (2019). The impact of historical trauma on health outcomes for Indigenous populations in the USA and Canada: A systematic review. American Psychologist, 74(1), 20–35.

12Carter, R. T., et al. (2013). Initial development of the Race-Based Traumatic Stress Symptom Scale: Assessing the emotional impact of racism. Psychological Trauma: Theory, Research, Practice, and Policy, 5(1), 1-9.

13Legend, J. (June 1, 2021). Hundreds remember riot at historical Tulsa church. Arizona Republic.

To read extensive research on medical treatment of Black patients see:  13Pearl, Robert, MD. (May, 2021) How Racial Bias and Healthcare Inequality Are Killing Black Patients. Excerpted from his book:  Uncaring: How the Culture of Medicine Kills Doctors and Patients.

What languages do you speak?

by Rev. Deb Worley

When the day of Pentecost had come…all of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages….[Everyone] heard them speaking in the native language of each. Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that…in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power[?]” (Selected verses from Acts 2, NRSV)

Question of the day: What languages do we speak? Do those around us hear us speaking about God in languages they can understand?

In my late teens and early 20’s, I learned to speak Portuguese and Spanish fairly fluently, living for a time in Brazil and Mexico. I was proud of myself, as I’d wanted to become fluent in another language since I was young. 

As I think about it now, it occurs to me that well before that, I had become fluent in several other “languages.” By that time in my life, for example, I had learned to speak the language of people-pleasing very well, and I was also pretty fluent in perfectionism. The language of judging others came all too naturally, as did the language of “laying down my life for others”—the practice of serving others and putting others’ needs almost exclusively before my own. 

Sadly, my fluency in Portuguese slipped away effortlessly over the years, as I used it less and less; in Spanish, less so, as I’ve had some occasions to use it since college, but certainly I’m nowhere near where I used to be. 

Thankfully, my fluency in the other “languages” has also decreased somewhat over time, although that hasn’t happened nearly as effortlessly as it did with Portuguese and Spanish. Rather, it has taken more of a concerted effort on my part as I’ve recognized that while those ways of being may seem desirable and praise-worthy, they can all too easily cause deep harm to both my self and those around me. 

There are other “languages” I’ve tried to pick up in recent years–ways of speaking, ways of communicating, ways of being in the world–that have taken equally as much effort to learn as those others have taken to unlearn. And, depending on your perspective, they may or may not be viewed as equally desirable.

These new “languages,” however, are much more likely to lead to healing rather than harm, for both my self and those around me. Some of these are the language of acceptance and inclusion, and the language of mistake-making and grace. The language of forgiveness and courage and trust. The language of belovedness.

I hope that in these “languages,” more so than in those of perfectionism and judgment, people-pleasing and self-denial, not only can I move toward greater ease and even fluency, but that as I do, others around me might more readily hear me speaking about God and God’s deeds of power in ways they can more easily hear. 

Because that acceptance and grace and forgiveness and courage–that belovedness–is not just for me; it’s not just for us. It’s for “them,” too. It’s for all. But how will they know if we don’t speak a language they can hear?

Peace be with us all.

Deb


Almighty God, in this season of Pentecost, fill us with your Spirit, as you did the first apostles, and send us to those who need to hear about your deeds of power and Love. Open our hearts that we might learn to speak in languages that are not necessarily our own but that will allow others to hear in ways they can understand. Amen.

The Other Pandemic

by Rev. John Indermark

Not long after I had pre-enrolled in seminary, my pastor gave an essay to me written by one of the Niebuhr brothers. The paper explored the theme of freedom and responsibility, and Pastor Pollmann asked me to present a series of short presentations on it during worship. I no longer have what I wrote, which is no great loss. I no longer have the original essay, which IS a great loss.

Fifty years later, the core of that essay looms large – not just for me, but I believe for the viability of democracy. Niebuhr’s core idea, at least the one I grasped, was basic: freedom and responsibility cannot be separated from one another without significant danger. For an individual. For a church. For a nation.

Responsibility without freedom goes by many names. Drudgery. Blind obedience. Slavery. Consider the destructive possibilities of such a state of affairs. Nuremberg comes to mind: I was only following orders. Or three-hundred and fifty years of slavery in this nation followed by a century and more of Jim Crow and segregation, whose consequences still erode this nation– especially when some refuse to grasp (or admit) the affront of those days, reminiscing instead about “lost causes.” Responsibility without freedom is a dead-end street –in its worst cases, it becomes a literal killing field of human spirit and community.

But responsibility devoid of freedom is not the only danger when those two are separated.

To some, actually I suspect to many, freedom has become deified into an unqualified good – which is to say, freedom trumps all other qualities and serves as life’s ultimate arbiter. Absolute personal freedom is to be unfettered by anything or anyone. Or is it? This is the other pandemic now ripping our nation apart.

Freedom without responsibility also goes by many names. Licentiousness. Anarchy. The disintegration of community bonds. Consider the destructive possibilities it has unleashed among us. The transformation of masks and vaccines from public health tools to save lives into a political battlefield where MY freedom to do as I choose is everything, regardless of any consequences for the lives of others. Or the freedom to vote for a chosen candidate becomes a license to lie about the validity of the choices and votes of others, a cancer seen in: 1) the lies about the truth of the November election; 2) the abortive attempt on January 6th to violently install the losing candidate over the choice of the majority; and 3) the efforts now underway to legislate voter suppression to eliminate the franchise of those pesky “others” – whether “other” is defined by party or race or country of origin. Freedom without responsibility dis-members society.

The bottom line is this. We have vaccines to combat Covid. We do not have vaccines to combat the collapse of community when “my freedom” is exalted over all, including truth. Jesus once said the truth will set you free – NOT you are free to invent your own truth. For church, for democracy, to hold together: freedom must be yoked with responsibility. If it is not, the lines of the Irish poet Yeats come to mind, written ironically in the wake of the 1918 flu pandemic and the first stirrings of European fascism:
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
             Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world . . .
             While the worst are full of passionate intensity.

Inclining our Ear Toward God: Listening As A Church

by Rev. Teresa Blythe

In a world full of solutions, opinions, and advice, listening is one of the most important gifts we can offer one another. It is an act of healing and vision. For people of faith and their communities, the gift of listening both to one another and God offers a path to spiritual renewal and grants congregations a vision of their identity. In a time when congregations are experiencing a steep decline in membership and facing significant uncertainty, learning to listen deeply to one another and seeking through listening to discern God’s path for a faith community’s future just might be one of the most important acts a church can engage in.

Rev. Chad Abbott and I minister in a denomination (UCC) that believes “God is still speaking.” The phrase expresses the reality that God is much more mysterious and far-reaching than we can understand. While the Bible continues to serve as the primary source of revelation for Christians, God is still being revealed to us in this world, in a culture the ancient world could not have imagined.

Sadly, it is evident to us as leaders in the Mainline American church that many Christians do not know how to listen for God, despite their deep longing to connect with a God who still speaks. Just as individual Christians struggle to listen for God, faith communities labor to listen for God together. Many are not able to slow down and approach church life in a reflective, contemplative manner.

Chad and I have written “Incline Your Ear: Cultivating Spiritual Awakening in Congregations” (Fortress Press, 2021) to encourage spiritual growth and vitality in faith communities in this listening pursuit. Throughout our book we share spiritual practices designed to help your congregation “incline its ear” toward God. Notice we used the singular “ear.” We believe congregations need to understand themselves as unified — one body, rather than a collection of individuals. As we are both spiritual directors, we explain the principles and practices of contemporary spiritual direction so that congregations can understand and use them. We even outline a “Congregational Spiritual Road Map” at the end of each chapter with step-by-step instructions for leading spiritual practices in awareness of God, reflection on the congregation’s life together, discernment, and creating an action plan to move forward on what is discerned.

With each important decision we make, with every relationship we build, with every church mission statement or ministry we design, and in matters of vocation and prophetic witness, the skills of discernment and listening in the spiritual life will make for vital congregations. While we face declining membership and generational shifts in loyalty to the church, it is clear to us that it is both a challenging, and exciting time to be the church. We have the opportunity to imagine a new future as we listen for God’s leading. All the spiritual resources we need to become that newly-imagined and future church is already within and around us if we will but incline our ear to the work of the Spirit.

We believe this work is so important. The world outside church doors will not wait around for clergy to figure out how to connect contemplative life at home with congregational life at church, so naturally the spiritually curious turn to yoga studios, meditation mats, healing stones, and spirituality apps — and who can blame them? Yet, the church has a deep and abiding tradition of spiritual practices that can help spiritual pilgrims in our time get to the heart of their yearning. In particular, the work of spiritual direction has the potential to not only enhance spiritual vitality in the church, but to push us toward congregational vitality that helps churches more fully live out their mission in the world in a time when a vibrant church is desperately needed.

Rev. Teresa Blythe is the director of the Phoenix Center for Spiritual Direction at First UCC Phoenix. Rev. Chad Abbott is Conference Minister for the Indiana-Kentucky Conference of the UCC.

Lingering Stories

by Rev. Jim Briney

A member of a congregation I once served no longer was able to attend services.  From time to time I sat with her and visited with her in her 1 room accommodation in a long term continuing care facility.  I had seen her though the aftermath woes of her early married life, and learned of her peculiarities.  She encouraged me to tell her stories of my life, one of which follows this introduction.  She told me I should make a list of such stories, which I did several years ago.  There are some 230 of them.  She is gone now.  The stories linger.

Over the last two years of his life, Duke Ellington and I met up at various venues he was playing.  Among them, the Meadow Brook Amphitheatre, a private club in Michigan, and the Shamrock Hilton in Texas. Few people knew how ill Duke was, or how close he was to the end of his life.  I marveled at his ability to perform while keeping his commitments, honoring his contracts, respecting his audiences, and employing his orchestra. 

Duke summoned me to sit near him during the Meadow Brook intermission.  As Duke rested on the small bed backstage—belt undone and shirt untucked, to ease his pain—I wondered if he would be able to get up.  On cue, he rose to the occasion, re-took the stage, and gave the audience full measure.  I was surprised when Tony Watkins sang In The Beginning God, and dedicated it to me.  I think that was Duke’s way of saying I was ok with him. 

On another occasion Duke spotted me in the audience at a private club.  Duke motioned for me to come down and sit with him on the bench at his piano.  Duke knew my maternal grandfather had been a concert pianist and composer.  I whispered to him that I barely knew two pieces: Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater, and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. I was not competent to play Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater, so I played Twinkle Twinkle Little Star with one hand.  Duke turned it into something—as if we had rehearsed it.

There was a beverage in a glass on the piano, within reach of Duke’s left hand.  Before returning to my seat, I asked Duke if he drank alcohol.  Without missing a beat, Duke said, “No, I retired undefeated.”  Another time I asked Duke how he sustained such a pace.  He was doing 200 dates a year. He told me he stayed in good hotels, slept in, and ordered the best steak and a bowl of chili that he poured over the steak. Duke said it was his main meal and it could be his last, so he ate what he liked.  He drank hot water, not coffee.  

Duke told me about his early days and promotions that had elevated the careers of The Duke and The Count.  I count myself lucky to have had a late dinner with Count Basie and his band several years before I knew Duke.  Duke wrote most days, knowing that his audiences wanted to hear what had become his old standards.  Duke figured it would be 30 years before anyone would listen to the music that occupied his prolific mind. He was writing every day. 

A fond memory of Duke Ellington has to do with his kindness to my eldest sister.  Upon my arrival in Texas, I asked her what she wanted to do to celebrate her wedding anniversary. She told me she had tried to get tickets for the Ellington concert and dinner at the Shamrock Hilton.  They had been sold out for months.  When I said let’s go, she did not know that I knew Duke and his son Mercer.  Mercer saw me in the hotel lobby while I was talking with the general manager, who stood at attention as Mercer approached us.

The general manager explained to Mercer that he could not accommodate the birthday wish of my sister, then asked, “Do you understand?” to which Mercer replied, “What are you doing for entertainment tonight?  Do you understand?”  Without another word, a table was prepared for us in front of the others.  As dessert was served a spotlight was focused on my sister.  Duke beckoned her to the dance floor with her husband while Paul Gonsalvas played an extended solo of Satin Doll.
That evening was a joy for everyone, with the exception of Paul Gonsalvas.  Paul had some sobering up to do and Duke was going to teach him a lesson. Each time Paul’s tenor sax was winding down, Duke spurred Paul on with shouts of praise for “The great Paul Gonsalvas.”  My affection and respect for Duke Ellington is for the man as much as his music.  Duke was not a disciplinarian, but he had his ways.

My memories include Mercer and I sharing a bottle of Cognac in a paper bag.  I preferred Courvoisier VSOP.  Mercer had a taste for Hennessy.  One time we sat on the ground while Money Johnson, Cootie Williams, Paul Gonsalvas, and others passed a reefer behind a stage door. They had been with Duke Ellington since his Cotton Club days, and when Mercer was young.

Mercer and I met for lunch in a Chicago steak house a week after the funeral for his father.  When Mercer greeted me he said, “Pop left me 12 million dollars. I didn’t know he even liked me.”  I have learned that my friends are where I find them.  I connected with Duke and Mercer at Meadow Brook when they performed for 30,000 fans, at a private club for a few hundred, and at an elegant affair for high paying guests, thankful that Mercer treated.  

Mercer had a mind for math and music.  He beat the odds, winning at Keno in Las Vegas.  Mercer scored his own compositions, including Reflections Indeed.  Throughout the course of my life and ministry—along the arc of seemingly random disjointed encounters—all sorts of memories occupy my mind.  Duke, Mercer, and Julie—the woman who asked to hear my stories—are long since gone.  Remembering them has led to a time of my own reflections. Indeed.

Pray Not with Swords in Hand: Reflecting on A Prayer by Violent Insurrectionists

by Rev. Teresa Blythe

Imagine the shock and disgust that rippled through mainline and progressive Christianity in this country after the New Yorker video from the January 6 insurrection showed a group of rioters standing around the Senate President’s chair in the Senate chamber pray, holding hands in the air praising God for their success at storming the Capital. One rioter who was interviewed after the event said he consulted God three times before coming, and each time “he didn’t hear a no.” Discerning types noticed that God also didn’t offer the man a “yes” either.

What can we say other than we denounce traitors and violent rioters who are overcome with a spirit of evil — a mob mentality — and that we do not believe this is something Jesus would ever sign off on? Jesus’ last words to his apostle Peter (and to future followers as well) was “put down your sword.”

We can’t say “they aren’t true Christians” because we know full well there is a strain of Christianity that is heavily nationalistic. And while we don’t interpret scripture the same way they do, we must acknowledge that they are part of what we call “the body of Christ.” We leave the judgment of who is and is not a Christian to a higher authority.

We can’t say “not all Christians” are like this. Even if it is true, it’s beside the point. Most people know there are a variety of strains of Christianity and not all strains condone violence. However, there are enough radical right activist Christians around to sully the reputation of all Christians. And our nationalist brothers and sisters manage to claim the media limelight more than we do.

What can nonviolent Christians say about a situation where a half-naked man wearing bull’s horns on his head calls on Almighty God for a blessing on his fellow rioters, some of whom were defecating in the halls of the Capital and smearing their waste on the walls? Until today, I’ve been at a complete loss for words. The faces of those around him praying and reaching to heaven confirmed how seriously these men felt that God was on their side. Cultic Christianity was on full display.

The responses to this deadly storming of the Capital have varied. Some Christians are holding prayer vigils. Some are doing a sort of biblical criticism denouncing this form of spiritual expression. Others are sticking their head in the sand — it’s just too horrible to think about. And still others are wondering how we can influence these nationalistic types and basically “convert” them to nonviolence.

My way, as a progressive, contemplative Christian spiritual director, is to simply grieve. To lament. If it were my style, I would cover myself with ashes and rent my clothing in distress. But it’s not my style. I grieve the loss of life; the way it will spread more Coronavirus; the fear it caused for so many of my elected leaders. I grieve how this event makes Christians look, and how this hardness and hatred will drive some people out of the church. I grieve what it all means for the future of our nation.

Like many others, I will watch, wait and pray for better days. And, however you respond to seeing rioters pray over Senate chambers, may it be a way that cultivates hope and deep peace in your life.

This post originally appeared on Patheos.

Racial Injustice and Mental Health

guest post by Ray Littleford of Desert Palm UCC; this post originally appeared in the Desert Breeze

February 14 may be Valentine’s Day, and in the United Church of Christ, it is also designated as Racial Justice Sunday, and the theme across the denomination is Compassionate Community.  It is well established that experiencing racial discrimination often leads to mental health problems that detract from quality-of-life over the course of a year or even a lifetime.  Numerous studies have found that rates of anxiety, depression and posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) are significantly higher among minority groups in the United States. 

Historically, Dr. Benjamin Rush, a signer of the Declaration of Independence and the first American physician to study mental disorders, declared that Negroes were not inferior to Whites.  In the 1850s, however, Dr. Samuel Cartwright defined “drapetomania” as the disease which causes slaves to run away, and “dysaethesia aethiopica” as the condition that causes laziness and made slaves insensitive to punishment.  A century later it was theorized that the urban violence among blacks in the 1960s was due to brain dysfunction.

There is also the problem of the over-diagnosis of schizophrenia among African-American males, nearly four times greater than that of white males.  The diagnosis was applied to many hostile and aggressive black men, and then they were treated with high doses of antipsychotic medications. 

Articles in prominent journals of mental health and psychiatry have explored the reluctance of African-Americans, Native Americans, Asian-Americans and Latinx individuals to seek mental health treatment.  Cultural paranoia and lack of trust in the medical community are often mentioned, as well as concerns regarding the cultural competence and understanding of clinicians.  Mental health professionals are predominantly white (e.g. only 2% of US psychologists are African-American) so these professions need to do a better job of attracting minority groups.

Finally, another area of discrimination is the lack of awareness by physicians of physiological differences of various racial groups in how medications are metabolized by the liver.  This can result in either toxic levels of medications or ineffective levels.  If you have tried several different psychiatric medications with poor results, then ask your physician to order genetic testing of the liver enzymes.  Most insurance plans will authorize it, and then the test results can point to the medications that are well metabolized by your liver, not too fast or too slow.

I believe we are making progress in reducing the stigma of mental illness in the general population.  It behooves us to extend this progress to people of all races and ethnicities so that biases in diagnosis and accessibility to treatment are eliminated.  As members of DPUCC, our witness to the community is that everyone is welcome here.  In the words of the Apostle Paul:

If our Message is obscure to anyone, it’s not because we’re holding back in any way.  No, it’s because these other people are looking or going the wrong way and refuse to give it serious attention.  All they have eyes for is the fashionable god of darkness.  They think he can give them what they want, and that they won’t have to bother believing a Truth they can’t see.  They’re stone-blind to the dayspring brightness of the Message that shines with Christ, who gives us the best picture of God we’ll ever get.  Remember, our Message is not about ourselves; we’re proclaiming Jesus Christ, the Master.  All we are is messengers, errand runners from Jesus for you.  It started when God said, “Light up the darkness!” and our lives filled up with light as we saw and understood God in the face of Christ, all bright and beautiful.  (2 Cor 4:3-6, The Message)