Bishop Hutterer: A pandemic of brokenness

Dear Church, 

These are daunting moments.

To be honest, I don’t know where to start. I can’t find adequate words to address the deep anger, anxiety, anguish, and grief spreading through our world today, growing from a mix of COVID-19 deaths, political turmoil, and repeated episodes of racial injustice.

As people who are claimed by Jesus, I struggle to reconcile this divided world with the vision of people who believe in the miracle of Pentecost, where thousands of people from vastly different backgrounds who had misunderstood each other for centuries were brought together to form a new church.

The killing of George Floyd by Minneapolis police continues to play on television and social media. I watched the video of Mr. Floyd’s death a few times, mostly in disbelief and deep sadness that this happened again. Earlier we watched the February killing of Ahmaud Arbery that took far too long to be brought to light. Before we learned of Ahmaud Arbery’s death, there was Breonna Taylor, and in October 2019 there was Atatiana Jefferson, and before her was…a long, long list of black and brown people whose unique and beautiful lives were needlessly ended by violence in a society we allow to remain broken.

I grew up in Minnesota. I attended Augsburg University, a few miles away from the site of George Floyd’s killing. My friends who live in that neighborhood update me as the subsequent protests and unrest unfold. I am embarrassed to only now learn that citizens of Minnesota and Minneapolis view themselves as leading in multiculturalism but actually rank nearly last in the nation in racial inequality. How did I miss that? My own blindness.

Racism is not confined to Minnesota. It dwells in the people of Arizona, Nevada and Utah. The cries of injustice from our black and brown sisters and brothers are rising in Phoenix, Scottsdale, Tucson, and Las Vegas. We can no longer be silent when bigoted remarks are so casually proclaimed by leadership. We cannot sit speechless as we watch another person—created in the image of God, deeply loved by God—be slighted, debased, marginalized, denied, discriminated against or killed because of the color of their skin, or their ethnic background, or their family history. We must begin to speak—loudly—against this ongoing nightmare in which our sisters and brothers live, and in which we participate and benefit from.

Added to these transgressions, the Native American population is disproportionately affected by one of the highest rates of coronavirus infection in the country. For those whose registered tribal home is in Rock Point, Arizona, the distance between home and help of any kind is 50 miles or more. Less than half of the households have electricity and running water, and COVID-19 only magnifies the challenges for those who live in the area.

I confess to you: I am not free of racism or blindness to injustices. I struggle to fully comprehend my white privilege. And, I confess to you: I have much work to do before I find my voice in the much-needed dialogue about our nation’s entrenched inequalities.

The timing could not be more urgent as the new pandemic of coronavirus entwines with the established pandemic of racism. These twin pandemics snuff our internal spirit of struggle while accelerating the loss of life and livelihoods among those already suffering the worst of America’s injustices.

We must begin conversations admitting these injustices, our white complicity, and our willful blindness to oppression. The temptation to ignore the world, to avoid conflict, and let things take care of themselves, stays strong in us. At least it does in me.

But we, by the power of the Holy Spirit, are called to be courageous and bold. We are called to hold the paradox, a Lutheran tenet, that we are both sinner and saint. We live in the Two Kingdoms. We need law and order to restrain evil, and we need God’s Kingdom because the restraints can be used for evil and abuse, to keep those unlike us in their place.

It is our time to listen deeply to the realities and stories of our sisters and brothers in the black and brown communities. It is our time to listen deeply to the hurt, the pain, the righteous anger for what is occurring now and for what has taken place for centuries. It is our time to confess our sins, our failures, our silence. Then, and only then, will we move forward in a conversation that is honest, painful, and at best, challenging. It is our time to listen to each other and to expose the places we like to stay invisible and hidden from our sight.

We do not all agree. Our stomachs churn and our hands get clammy thinking of the places where we disagree. We are afraid of loud voices, silent stares, and uncomfortable discussions. But as people claimed and named by Jesus, we trust that the Pentecost winds, the Holy Spirit, blows into our noisy conversations and silent moments. The winds allowed each to understand in their own language. This miracle invited wonder and curiosity about what in the world God is up to.

I plead for the Spirit of wisdom to reclaim our deeply held opinions and reshape them into genuine discernment.

May the power of the Pentecost Spirit help us to hear others’ words as they are intended, as the power of this Spirit enables us to love our neighbors as ourselves.

There is much work to do, dear Church. The work will not be easy or pretty, but it will be rewarding, as together we live into the vision God has for the world and find our place in the body of Christ as we accomplish God’s work.

On June 17, 2020, the ELCA will commemorate the fifth anniversary of the Emanuel Nine—the nine people shot and killed on June 17, 2015, during a Bible study at Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston, S.C.

Our relationship to the shooter as well as two of the slain reminds us of both our complicity and our calling. An online ELCA Prayer Service for the Commemoration of the Emanuel Nine, including Bishop Eaton and leaders from around the church, is being prepared for viewing beginning on June 17, 2020. More info at: elca.org/emanuelnine

The Rev. Deborah K. Hutterer
Bishop
Grand Canyon Synod of the ELCA