Lift Every Voice and Sing

The first Sunday of this month, Black History month, our congregation belted out that beautiful hymn Lift Every Voice and Sing, which remembers God's faith for us even through the most difficult and oppressive years of our struggle to live as members of God's kingdom. In that hymn as in many of the psalms, we remember together, that God calls us to lift every voice, not just voices of the currently powerful and privileged, not just the voices of the downtrodden and suffering, but all of us together are called to lift our voices as if we are one human family, because we are. 

In God's kingdom, we celebrate a vast diversity of saints from our history. We remember those who have stood out, often because their loving care for those in need in their generations. People such as The Rev. Absalom Jones, the first black priest in the Episcopal Church (our little corner of God's kingdom), and Dr. Artemisia Bowden, who in 1902, formed a school for African Americans in San Antonio, which grew into current day St. Philip's College, at the request of our bishop. Along with more popular saintly figures in our nation like Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., their witness reminds us that God calls just the right people at the right time. Our modern concept of race is only a social construct: we are God's human race. At the same time, those social constructions still shape the way we see the world around us. Black History month is an opportunity for me, particularly as a white guy, to pay attention, and be inspired by the historical leadership of African Americans. It is my belief that the kingdom of God is stronger when we are listening to one another; put another way: Holy Spirit is at work in us, not just me. 

Just before we enter the season of lent, we celebrated Mardi Gras: that celebration culminating the day before Ash Wednesday, also called Fat Tuesday. (This year it  coincided with the feast day of The Rev. Absalom Jones.) The pre-lenten celebration occurs around the world in different ways, such as Carnival in Brazil. Our Gulf Coast communities have long celebrated the day in the cultural blending grounds our coast provides across generations. Yes, New Orleans is currently known as the primary city for Mardi Gras, but we know those celebrations reach all the way over to our coastal bend. New Orleans, the city I got to know doing relief work there after Hurricane Katrina, is a splendid mix of cultures generating outstanding music and food. It is from the diversity of people that such a fabulous cultural celebration has grown. Of course as a priest, I remember the religious aspect of the feast-before-the-fast, that beautiful celebration tips us into a season of focus on Christ, a time of self-denial and prayer so that our experience of the Christ's resurrection, the destruction of death, leaves us remembering that we have all been liberated from sin, death, and the powers that would destroy God's creatures. Mardi Gras was our send off into the lenten wilderness.

As we begin the reverent season of lent, I am reflecting on the historical contributions to our nation from Black Americans and more importantly the beautiful diversity of God's kingdom. As St. Paul writes in Galatians: "There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus." Our perspective as followers of Christ is transformed from what once divided us. It is when we lift every voice and sing as one that we draw closer to realizing the vision of the kingdom of God.