The media has periodically publicized examples of that practice. A few years ago, Senator John Ford in Tennessee, for example, proudly testified to his maintaining a multi-partner and multi-household family unit in a 2005 child support hearing (http://www.tennessean.com/local/archives/05/01/64558230.shtml).  Even more recently, the Jessie Davis case has brought this issue to the surface.  In its coverage of the case, the media has reiterated countless times, with fascination, the fact that the Jessie Davis maintained an extra-marital relationship and had two children with Bobby Cutts Jr., a married police officer.  The media also speculated that the legal wife of the police officer knew of the relationship between her husband and Davis and harbored no ill feelings towards Davis.

 Amidst the muddled speculations surrounding this poor woman’s disappearance lie a basic fact: Jessie Davis had a spouse-like relationship with Bobby Cutts, Jr. She carried two of his kids and maintained a long-term relationship with him.  In light of that, should women in Davis’s position not be able to seek the same legal protections reserved for De Jure spouses in American Law?  Was Jessie Davis made more vulnerable by the fact that her lifestyle was one that existed at the margins of the law? We might have to answer such questions sooner rather than later.  The reality of multi-partner unions is becoming one from which we might not be able to hide much longer.

At the same time, White liberals, already committed to using government broadly for social purposes, tend to be emphatically secular in their political sensibilities.  This secular disposition, though for different reasons, pushes them toward the same conclusion -- that government and spirituality should largely occupy different domains.

Black Christians, generally, find no home in either camp.  The experience of Black folk in America is irreducibly one of deliverance from oppression, and the Gospel -- not to mention the exodus narrative that forms the heart of the Old Testament -- is foundationally concerned with deliverance from oppression. Building on the liberation theology of scholars like James Cone, Obery Hendricks asserts in his classic text, The Politics of Jesus, that the Gospel is fundamentally about delivering marginalized people -- "the least of these" -- from the forces of subordination, whether those forces derive from public, private, or religious sources.  This understanding of the Bible -- articulated long ago by Black religious thinkers like Richard Allen -- constitutes the ethical soul of the Black struggle for freedom in this country.  In fact, I'd submit it is impossible to understand the Black freedom struggle without accounting for the indelible role of Christian faith in that struggle.

In this regard, Black Christian spirituality is incompatible with both the cramped exegesis of evangelical conservatives and the secular liberalism of political progressives.  As a Christian thinking through the implications of Easter, I find it impossible to separate the cross from what Hendricks calls Jesus's politics: Jesus's unwavering concern for the ways in which power conditions the potential of ordinary folk.  And while progressives tend purposefully to frame their claims for a more responsible politics in the language of secularism, perhaps the perspective of Black Christianity suggests that approach should be re-considered.  I'm not sure we need less Christianity in our public life.  Perhaps we need more. 

After his Indianapolis Colts won the Superbowl, Tony Dungy said:

"I'm proud to represent the African-American coaches and to be the first African-American to win this . . . It means an awful lot to our country . . . Lovie Smith and I are not only the first two African-Americans, but Christian coaches, showing that you can win doing it the Lord's way, and we're more proud of that . . ."

As Dungy talked about race, I thought about the skeptics who might be thinking “Why does it always have to be about race?”  When he turned to faith, I thought of a different group of skeptics who might be saying “Why does he have to proselytize after a football game?” 

After the pain and glory of losing his son to suicide and winning a Superbowl, however, Dungy’s words command more respect than most—and he didn’t waste his 15 minutes. 

Which raises a related legal issue.  “Colorblind” advocates often claim that race has no place in public discourse because it is divisive.  Those who discourage public acknowledgment of faith make a similar claim.  The first group relies on the 14th Amendment to try to constitutionalize its perspective, whereas the second group relies on the 1st Amendment’s Establishment Clause. And yet, as evidenced by Tony Dungy’s comments, both race and faith are important parts of our identity—of who we are as individuals, and of our freedom of association.   

Now, I’m not suggesting that we go back to racial segregation, or that we use religion as an excuse to burn “witches” at the stake, enslave people, or blow up buildings.  I am suggesting, however, that a society that completely suppresses heritage and faith fails to acknowledge important components of who we are as people.  Rather than grapple with the tensions that arise from difference, it refuses to work through them, claims “victory,” and proceeds to ignore de facto segregation and socioeconomic disparities, or the fact that so many people organize their lives around faith. 

I don’t profess to have a simple answer, but a knee-jerk rejection of race and faith in the public sphere creates problems rather than solves them.  Subordination is bad and should be be viewed as a public threat, including when race and faith are used as tools to subordinate.  But race and faith themselves are not synonomous with subordination.

About a week ago the newspapers reported that Virginia Republican Congressman Virgil Goode (R-Virginia) (top) wrote a letter to a constituent, criticizing Congressman-elect Keith Ellison’s (D-Minnesota) (bottom) decision to carry a Koran into his swearing-in ceremony next month. 

"If American citizens don't wake up and adopt the Virgil Goode position on immigration, there will likely be many more Muslims elected to office and demanding the use of the Koran . . . . I fear that in the next century we will have many more Muslims in the United States if we do not adopt the strict immigration policies that I believe are necessary." 

Ellison is originally from Detroit and converted to Islam.    

A few thoughts . . . . 

Immigration:  Politicians have in the past used discriminatory immigration laws—such as the 1882 Chinese Exclusion Act or the Immigration Act of 1924—to shape the racial composition of our nation so that even today people of color are a numerical minority (the ultimate gerrymandering).  Fortunately, some of these laws were repealed, and our population is growing increasingly diverse (in 1972 only 12% of 15 to 25-year olds were people of color, whereas in 2000 35% of 15 to 25-year olds were people of color).  I hope we don’t backslide on our progress on this issue with regard to religion. 

Religious Freedom:  Ellison should be able to use the Koran without criticism, but Congressman Goode’s instincts reveal the problems with inserting a greater amount of religion in the government sphere.  Not only will we have unnecessary conflict between religious traditions, but we’ll have attempts to suppress religious freedom by “incumbents” who want to entrench their own religion by suppressing other traditions.  As a Christian, I appreciate my ability to choose my particular branch of Zion and the fact that America has a vibrant religious community relative to other Western nations.  I attribute this in large part to the freedom of religion and constraints that prevent government from favoring particular religions. 

Who Moved "My" America?:  I'm writing a book on change in America.  Change is inevitable.  We can either overcome our fears and embrace the opportunities afforded by change, or entrench our status in a fortress which ironically becomes our prison.

I entered the academy because I thought I’d love the job—but sometimes it seems as though I love it too much.  In my first two years as a professor, holidays and weekends used to be a constant struggle between family obligations and work.  I’d write at least four to five hours on a holiday, Saturday, or Sunday—and it was a constant source of tension with my wife.  I’d rationalize that I was just starting out and I needed to build my career, or that I needed to lift this particular sheep out of the pit on the Sabbath.  On Father’s Day or my birthday the argument was, “This is how I choose to spend my big day—what’s wrong with that?”   

I’ve learned to scale back, perhaps due to a combination of guilt, my genuine enjoyment of my wife and our two children, and because we’ve started to build some structure in our weekends that gives me a feeling of accomplishment (generally a list of children’s activities, church, chores, errands, exercise, and time with my wife).  I also find that I’m fresher and even more eager to work on Monday. 

But I must confess—too often I wake before the rest of the family to sneak in an hour or so on the computer.

The Bush administration's faith-based initiative is reaching only a tiny percentage of the nation's black churches, most of which have limited capacity to run social programs, hampering the initiative's promise of empowering those congregations to help the needy. . . .

  The national survey of 750 black churches by the Joint Center for Political and Economic Studies found that fewer than 3 percent are participating in the program, which funnels at least $2 billion a year in federal social services spending to religious organizations. Black churches in the Northeast and those with self-identified progressive congregations and liberal theologies were most likely to be taking part in the program, a finding that surprised the researchers, who concluded that the White House has not used the program as a political tool as some critics have suspected. . . . . . 

"The thing is that the churches that are most likely to actually do social outreach or social ministry are liberal churches, they are not conservative churches," said David A. Bositis, a senior research associate at the center who conducted the study. "Those churches may have significant reservations about the program. But if the money is there, they are going to take it. They are the ones who have the capacity and the infrastructure to get grants and administer them." 

 While many of the churches surveyed had an interest in assisting those in need and frequently offered small-scale programs such as food pantries or used-clothing giveaways, most had neither the money nor the expertise to do more -- or even to seek more resources. 

Most of the nation's estimated 50,000 black churches are led by pastors who work other jobs full time and have little more than administrative help in running their churches. The survey found that more than one in four black churches had annual revenue of less than $100,000 and half had revenue of less than $250,000. Only 12 percent reported taking in more than $1 million a year. . . .

Under Bush's initiative, federal departments have worked to make it easier for religious groups to compete for federal grants to operate programs including drug treatment counseling and Head Start. Bush signed executive orders authorizing the initiative in 2002. It allows religious groups to receive federal grants while exempting them from certain civil rights statutes.

My Aunt Sarah, sitting on her front porch, would often say to me , “Liquor make you tell the truth.” Her point was that, despite people’s claims that “the alchohol made me do it,” the state of inebriation doesn’t typically force us to say things we don’t mean. Instead, the spirits simply remove the inhibitions that police our inner most thoughts and feelings.

This certainly seemed to be the case last week when an intoxicated Mel Gibson was pulled over for speeding on a Malibu highway.  As the police attempted to take him into custody, Gibson went on a lengthy and vicious anti-Semitic tirade, seemingly blaming the Jews for everything from global warfare to Bobby Brown leaving New Edition.

Fully aware that such moves are a severe occupational hazard, a sobered up Gibson quickly issued a public statement in which he expressed regret and shame for his antics. More importantly, he expressed disbelief at the anti-Semitic nature of his own comments, assuring us that his drunken rant was not reflective of his true beliefs. Soon after, Jewish leaders like Abraham Foxman of the Anti-Defamation League, made it clear that they were unwilling to accept his apology. Why? Because they didn’t believe him.

Good for them.

The mother wit of my Aunt Sarah aside, there are multiple reasons to believe that Gibson is less than contrite. Despite numerous attempts, Gibson has failed to unequivocally reject his father’s claims that the Holocaust never happened, instead choosing to sidestep the question with fancy rhetorical footwork. Also, The Passion of the Christ, Gibson’s record-breaking film, placed exclusive blame on the Jews for the death of Jesus at the expense of Roman accountability. Additionally, Gibson has made equally vicious public statements against other groups, such as women and the LGBT community. Surely, all of these issues weighed into the ADL’s decision to reject Gibson’s dubious apology.

My point here isn’t to jump on top of the anti-Gibson pile, although there is plenty of reason to do so. Instead, I believe that there is a lesson to be learned here for everyone, particularly Black people: Stop accepting everyone’s apologies!

Of course, I am not suggesting that there aren’t moments when people’s true feelings are contradicted by their public comments. Nor am I ignoring the idea that people have the capacity to become different and better after receiving public or private critique. Under such circumstances, it is imperative that the aggrieved  party facilitate the healing process by forgiving, though never forgetting, their abuser. Unfortunately, in the current age of so-called political correctness, such instances are rare.

Far too often, public apologies are perfunctory gestures that have more to do with saving face than legitimate growth. Does anyone really think that Pat Robertson still doesn’t want Hugo Chavez assassinated? Has Rev. Willie Wilson really changed his disgusting views on gays and lesbians?  Does George W. Bush really feel bad about prisoner abuse in Abu Ghraib? Does Bobby Brown really regret leaving New Edition? A look at each of these men’s bodies of work certainly doesn’t inspire faith in their conversion experiences.

For Black people, the politics of apologies is particularly dangerous, as mea culpas are often used to end public discussion about complex and consistent problems. For example, what good is the Senate’s 2005 resolution to apologize for lynching if the modern day prison industrial complex is replicating the conditions of the very slave industry that enabled Black people to hang from trees? After such apologies are offered and accepted without concrete concessions (such as reparations), further public conversation is considered excessive, and persistent activists are conveniently tagged as race card players and pain pimps .

To be sure, public apologies can yield enormous symbolic and material value. It is critical, however, that we not fetishize repentant words and ignore the deeper complexities, contexts, and contradictions that informed the initial misstep.

From where I stand, the Black church is a vital part of the cultural and social institutions essential to continued Black progress. To deny that would seem to render the concept of the Black church incoherent. The very existence of the Black church is political. Black churches developed precisely because the pews were subject to the same kind of racial apartheid that segregated virtually every facet of American life. The Black Church thus seems inextricably linked to the political struggle for racial equity. Jakes argues, nonetheless, that that relationship should be reconsidered. Is he right?

As you may know, Desmond Dekker, perhaps best know for "The Israelites," died last week. His death invites us to think about the current status of reggae music. I grew up listening to Dekker, Gregory Isacs, John Holt, Dennis Brown, among others, and one wonders whether their brand of reggae--roots/consciousness reggae and early lovers rock--is dead. Yesterday I attended UCLA's annual reggae festival and the main artist was Buju Banton.  Recall that in 1992 a controversy emerged--first in England, but it quickly traveled to the United States--about the following lyrics to his song, Boom Bye Bye: "The world is in trouble/ Anytime Buju Banton come/Batty Boy get up and run/ah gunshot in ah head man/Tell dem crew… it’s like/Boom bye bye, in a batty boy head/Rude Boy nah promote no nasty man, them hafi dead." Replace "batty boy" with "gay man" and you get a sense as to what all the controversy was about.  No one protested his presence at UCLA, and he did not sing "Boom Bye Bye." In fact, his songs were all very much in the tradition of roots/consciousness, not terribly unlike the work of Dekker. As I listened, I could not help but wonder whether that one song may have overdetermined how we think about him. But perhaps not. He has never repudiated the lyrics. Indeed, he still performs the song, and he has even invoked Rastafarianism to legitimize its content. In this respect I should add that when Banton was criticized for making a song that seemed to express a preference for light-skinned black women, he quickly released another song which explicitly embraced the dark-skinned black female aesthetic. He has performed no such post Boom Bye Bye move. I don't want  to romanticize the reggae past or be overly critical of the reggae present; reggae has never been a monolithic art form--in lyrics or form. Still, it would be nice to hear more lyrics of the following sort: "Get up in the morning slaving for bread sir/ So that every mouth can be fed/Poor, poor me, Israelites." Desmond Dekker died of a heart attack. He was only 64, and was apparently preparing for a world music festival in Prague. He will certainly be missed.

My take--don’t do it.  Be welcoming and non-judgmental.  Easter is an opportunity for churches to obtain new life by reengaging old friends and reaching out to new people with fresh perspectives and talents. Some African-American ministers promote “witnessing” on street corners with leaflets but fail to connect with people who take the step of coming to church on Easter Sunday.  

Many non-regulars come to church with particular assumptions, and church leadership should consciously avoid (both in substance and appearance) giving non-regulars a reason to have any of the following thoughts:

1) “These church folks want to feel better about themselves by believing they are close to God while assuming that I’m not. This church is just another hierarchy like work, politics, or a 5th grade classroom.”  

2) “These church folks are more interested in showing one another their ‘commitment’ through screaming and self-righteousness than in pleasing God.”

3) “Churches pretend they are all about love—but this minister just wants my money so that he/she can drive a nice car.” 

4) “I was honest enough to stand during the new visitors’ moment.  Why did they have to put me on the spot by grilling me with all of those questions?”

5) “These folks just go on forever by reciting all of the announcements that are printed in the teller and by giving a rambling and redundant sermon that has emotion but no organization or substance . . . . PLEASE bring this to a close so that I can get out of this place until next Easter.”

The theme for church leaders and church regulars this Easter Sunday should be 1 Corinthians 13: 4-5: “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.”

The Pharisees lost on the first Easter Sunday morning.  Easter Sunday 2006 is an opportunity, and church regulars shouldn't blow it by acting like Pharisees.

   Does the emphasis on Sunday morning, however, detract from the significance of Good Friday?  Under the old law (the Old Testament) animals were sacrificed to atone for sins. For Christians, the death of Jesus on Good Friday represents the ultimate sacrifice that ushered in a new relationship with God (see also Genesis 22).       

What would a greater emphasis on Good Friday mean for African Americans?  Would it prompt more reflection on the personal shortcomings that prompted sacrifice, translating into greater self-criticism and personal change?  Or would a greater emphasis on Good Friday simply dilute the inspiration that many gain from Easter Sunday?

Undoubtedly most attention in the media will continue to focus on what Hamas’ democratically obtained victory means for the peace process, the March Israeli election, international funding for the Palestinians, etc.  These are all very important issues.

I want to turn our attention as to what this could mean for two groups of  Palestinians—women and the Christians.  Whereas Fatah, and the larger PLO of which it is a part, are secular nationalists, Hamas has been outside that framework. It is an Islamic fundamentalist group. What will its domestic legislative agenda be??? The Basic Law, which is a constitutive document in this pre-independence period, says both that Islam is the national religion, and also that there is gender equality. How will these provisions be interpreted in the new regime? Is Hamas  likely to call for the implementation of Islamic sharia in areas like criminal law? This would mean punishments like amputation of  hands for robbery. Will they demand that all women wear headscarves or other long garments as happened in Iran? Will they decide that women are no longer suited to be judges or other types of professionals? During the first intifada (uprising) 1987-1992, there were examples where women in Gaza were attacked with stones or acid if they did not put on a headscarf.  Regardless of the law, will we see this behavior again? Will there be an increase in the customary practice (not Islamic) of honor killings as more men think the women in their families are besmirching “family honor” if they talk or fraternize with unrelated men? What would this mean for the young women who currently attend universities with men? Will the tiny Christian minority find that it is more difficult to survive in such an environment?

It will be interesting to watch particularly as a large number of women ran and were elected to the Council. They had to be one in the first three candidates on the party list portion of the ballot, then one in the next four, and one in the next five, etc. Women accounted for 85 of the 728 candidates vying on national and district lists. 13 Hamas women ran on its 59-member national ticket, including a mother whose two sons were suicide bombers. Fatah women held 12 of the party's 45 slots.  There are 5 reserved seats on the Council for Christians as well. Well known spokesperson Dr. Hanan Ashrawi is one Christian woman who will have a second term on the Council.

]]> http://www.blackprof.com/archives/2006/01/democracy_in_palestine.html http://www.blackprof.com/archives/2006/01/democracy_in_palestine.html gender Sun, 29 Jan 2006 15:25:57 -0500 My last post mentioned the significance of being in Bethlehem for Christmas, but noted that we did not feel peace in the Holy Land.  This entry will  highlight one aspect of why we felt this way. First, the main entrance to the city now resembles a fortress or a maximum security prison with a giant gate. The Israelis have militarily occupied the West Bank where Bethlehem is located since 1967 along with the Gaza Strip, East Jerusalem, and other areas. In the past few years, they have  been building a giant wall of nearly 400 miles in the West Bank, three times as long as the Berlin Wall and twice as high.  When completed, this barrier will wall in the more than 1 million Palestinians  into little noncontiguous pockets of poverty and misery that many people globally say remind them of  American Indian reservations  or  South African apartheid.  Needless to say,  many resent any comparisons of any aspect of the Occupation  to apartheid. The wall is not located along the 1967 border lines, but instead weaves deep into Palestinian areas, separating people from their land, schools, jobs and family members. In 2004, the International  Court of Justice issued an advisory opinion  that the Wall violated international law.

Lofty Law is one thing, bitter reality is another. I wanted my Jewish Israeli friends to come with me to Bethlehem. They are currently forbidden to do so for “security reasons.” I wanted my Palestinian  friends, both Christian and Muslim, who are residents of Bethlehem, to come with me to Jerusalem to see their holy sites. While the international community regards Palestinian East Jerusalem as occupied, Israel annexed it and regards both east and west Jerusalem as its undivided capitol. My friends thus eagerly devoured our video of the Muslim Dome of the Rock and Christian Church of the Holy Sepulchre as they can not go in person.   Nor could they could with us to Dimona, Israel to meet my Black Hebrew friends. 

I have some Palestinian friends who live in Nablus, a Palestinian area that has been a center of resistance to the Occupation in the past few years of what is known as the second intifada (uprising), and thus a center of Israeli military response. Even  little children in Nablus  have experienced so much exposure to death of loved ones and spirit injury that they dream of  being martyrs for the cause and suicide bombers rather than doctors or lawyers. Parents weep as they can not offer them a normal future. I thought surely my friends  here would come to Bethlehem, also administered by the Palestinian authority. There is a giant checkpoint at the entrance to Nablus, one of 700 large and small checkpoints, in the territories. The dehumanization and humiliation experienced at such a spot which often results in hours long wait or outright refusal to be permitted to leave or continue one’s journey is monumental. A resident of Nablus can not just drive his private car down to Bethlehem, a drive of less than 2 hours in a normal world.

Well surely, the Black Hebrews would have an easy time. After all Israel is a Jewish state, which grants first class citizenship rights under the Law of Return to any Jew from anywhere in the world. Then I found out that this 3000 strong community has faced racism throughout its 30 plus year time in Israel. They have not been regarded as real Jews. Only now, some of them have risen to the legal level of permanent residents –not yet citizens. Yet a Jewish person from Russia could land tomorrow and be welcomed with open arms and become a citizen quickly.

James and I spent a warm winter day in  the biggest city Tel Aviv, which is considered  the Israeli capitol by most countries of the world. On the beautiful beachfront, Israelis jogged, ate seafood, and generally enjoyed themselves. My Jewish Israeli friends said that most of these people on the beachfront did not have to think on a daily basis if at all or may not be truly aware about the harsh existence of Palestinians in the Occupied Territories. The wall has cut down the number of  suicide bombings and a recent Israeli poll said the sluggish economy was the major concern.

Meanwhile down the road, the Gaza beachfront is a mess. I knew we could not dare to enter there as Gaza disintegrates, perhaps into civil war. A British human rights activist and her parents were kidnapped. Armed men had a shootout with the Palestinian police over jobs. Israeli military bombed areas from which militants may have been involved in shelling into Israel since the military and Jewish settlements pulled out this past summer.

The Rafah checkpoint into Egypt, a much needed escape valve for Palestinians long cooped up, erupted in violence and European observers had to flee.

 I weep as I wish  for peace for the New Year in the Holy Land.  I encourage Americans of all backgrounds to visit, assuming lulls in violence that meet your personal comfort level.  As a (nonArab)American who has been coming to the area for 20 years, I was able to cross boundaries and see many things and meet many kinds of people. I was warmly received by everyone. If you do come, please try and do the same— talk with Jews, Muslims, and Christians --- Palestinians and Israelis of all political persuasions.  It can be very hard. Walls, literal and figurative, are everywhere.]]> http://www.blackprof.com/archives/2006/01/no_peace_on_earth_from_the_hol_1.html http://www.blackprof.com/archives/2006/01/no_peace_on_earth_from_the_hol_1.html religion Sun, 01 Jan 2006 10:30:46 -0500