Rev. Chris Jimmerson
Phil Richardson, Nicole Meitzen, Julie Gillis
June 12, 2016
First UU Church of Austin
4700 Grover Ave., Austin, TX 78756
www.austinuu.org

Rev. Chris Jimmerson and leaders from the Austin Area UU White Allies for Racial Equity will examine how, in the words of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., “Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.”


Call to Worship
by Steve Ripper

Che Guevara once said, “At the risk of sounding ridiculous, let me say that the true revolutionary is guided by a great feeling of love.”

It begins and ends with love. If there is one lesson, one key to being all you can be – and I don’t mean being a soldier, I mean being a warrior – it’s learning to love. But just what does that word, love, mean? It has become so fraught and loaded with double meanings and empty promises that many are justifiably cynical at the mere mention of love. I’m not talking sentimental love, I’m not talking hallmark love, I’m not talking ‘luv.’ I’m talking about a fierce love, a revolutionary love, a true love, a love beyond illusion, a love that is not afraid to freak you out with the truth, even when it hurts like hell. This Big Love is agape love, it’s a universal love, and it is, I believe infused in all of creation.

Meditation Reading
by Steve Ripper

When I asked Archibishop Desmond Tutu one of my favourite questions, “what is the meaning of life”, he replied, “The God in whose image we are created, is a God of love. We are the result of a divine loving. Ultimately we’re meant for love… we’re meant as those who will communicate love and make this world more hospitable to love.”

You don’t need to believe in God to feel the power of this truth – somewhere deep inside us all, is a bonfire of love, that we are here to embody, to unleash, to liberate from captivity.

Take a moment and send your awareness down to your heart, and see if you can feel a little taste of this vast love which is hidden there, like a shining diamond – your diamond heart. Can you feel it burning within?

Homily 1
by Phil Richardson

We were challenged by Dr. King to find a Revolutionary Love that could defeat the hate of racism. The inter-racial love that Michael and I share is an example of such a love.

I don’t know why I fell in love with Michael 36 years ago. I knew that I was attracted to men of color but the deck was stacked against us. … According to 1970’s social norms and our respective parents … Our age difference was too great ( ageism), we were both men (homophobia) and especially we were of mixed races (racism.) … My mother pleaded: Couldn’t you please pick someone less ‘obviously controversial?’ Thankfully we stayed together overcoming pressure from culture, family and friends … our Love prevailed.

In our 36 years together we’ve lived together, raised children together, shared intimate hopes and dreams together, practiced medicine together, vacationed together and grieved together as we lost friends to AIDS. Michael is my ally, friend, companion and now legal husband after four very public wedding-like commitment ceremonies.

Is Michael Really Black?
The short answer is yes. His skin color is a rich tan. That said, I see Michael more as a friend, lover, husband and confidant who happens to have darker skin. Our Revolutionary Love transformed black Michael into Michael who happens to be black. … Close proximity, frequent interaction, mutual trust and respect, (elements of our Revolutionary Love), caused me to see Michael’s character rather than his skin color … that was Dr. King’s dream. This Revolutionary Love transformed us both to see each other as our true selves, rather than what we looked like.

A telling anecdote occurred several years after Michael and I got together. We were at a large social gathering when Michael whispered to me “We’re the only black people at this party.” It took a minute for Michael’s Freudian slip to sink in … We had become to each other, members of the same human race.

The take away in this example is that our initial recognition of our racial difference caused our relationship to begin. As love drew us closer, we each became less aware of our skin colors, seeing more each other’s true essence. This pathway of first acknowledging, then accepting racial and cultural difference followed by long lasting mutual admiration, compassion, and trust defeated the very meaning of racism.

Road Blocks
Two major roadblocks to defeating racism are White Privilege and an unequal Race Based Justice system. Understanding these roadblocks has been the focus of our White Allies studies.

We’ve discovered that most white people, myself included, are totally unaware how we exercise White Privilege … unless it’s pointed out. In our Allies group we regularly share White Privilege scenarios we’ve observed in ourselves and others.

Race based inequality under the law has been publicized by the Black Lives Matter movement. … “Stop and Frisk,” “The War on Drugs” and supposedly “non-existent” racial profiling all claim to be race neutral but with implementation are racist.

Loving Away Racism

– I believe that the pathway to a tranquil diverse society must first start with a full awareness and acceptance of race and cultural differences. With purposeful proximity, genuine friendship, admiration, and trust we can defeat racism.

– We need to learn to recognize and condemn White Privilege wherever we find it.

– We need to be prepared to change ourselves whenever we discover our own exercise of White Privilege.

– We must insist upon truly equal enforcement and justice under the Law.

– We all need to accept, respect and follow leaders who happen to be POC. As Victor Hugo wrote … “To Love another person is to see the face of God.”

Homily 2
by Nicole Meitzen

Through my experiences in the racial justice movement in Central Texas, I have seen that revolutionary love is a verb, the act of choosing everyday to meet the world, each other, and our activism with an open heart and a consciousness of whether the impact of our actions is upholding white supremacist systems or dismantling them. Activist, scholar and author Angela Davis said “walls turned sideways are bridges.” The conscious choices inherent in revolutionary love are what turn the walls between us into bridges so we can embrace our shared humanity.

Revolutionary love is the choice to show up for racial justice everyday even when it feels scary, hard, and overwhelming. It is a love that grows through our presence and connection… putting our bodies on the line for our black brothers and sisters and declaring with them that Black Lives Matter. Racial justice activist Reverend Hannah Adair Bonner wrote “what’s a solidarity that doesn’t break? When you’re tired, when you’re scared, when you’re heart hurts: you’re still there.”

Revolutionary love is recognizing that David Joseph, Gyasi Hughes, and Sandra Bland are not “their” children but our children. It is choosing to stand with the families of these young people and demanding justice… demanding a society where young black people will be safe, respected, and loved not just at home but when they are in the midst of one of their most vulnerable moments, when they are walking the halls of their school, and when they are driving down the road. A society where black people will see their inherent worth, dignity, beauty, and power reflected back at them by the people and institutions they encounter in daily life.

Revolutionary love is the choice of white folks to explore white supremacy, its impacts, and our part in perpetuating it whether we claim to be anti-racist or not. It is taking the time and effort to read articles, blogs, books, and to engage in tough conversations without expecting peoples of color to take on the burden of educating us. It is challenging racist comments, actions, and systems and pushing through the discomfort of doing so. It is realizing our impact matters more than or “good” intentions and apologizing, making amends, and doing better next time when we are confronted for racist remarks and/or behavior. It is also remembering to offer ourselves and others a bit of grace because unlearning a lifetime of socialization in a white supremacist culture is a daily challenge. We will make mistakes along the way and these are the points where we learn and grow and develop the ability to engage with each other and the world in a way that supports racial justice rather than oppression.

Revolutionary love is the choice to raise a race conscious, rather than colorblind, family. It is white families realizing that while discussing race and racism is challenging, black families have no choice but to talk with their children in order to prepare them to safely navigate a world designed to treat them as less because of the color of their skin. It is white families teaching their kids that racism is systemic and that people have different life experiences and face striking inequities because our society is shaped by the violence inherent in white supremacy and racism. It is demonstrating with our actions and words that black lives matter and reminding our children that their actions and words can either support their black friends or endanger them physically, emotionally, and/or mentally. It is teaching our children that racism and slavery are not gone and that there is a vast history excluded from textbooks… especially in Texas. It is taking the time to teach our children this history to put the injustices they and their peers will encounter in true context. It is living our lives and engaging with our families in a way that our youth know their voices matter and that they are capable of challenging racist systems and creating a more just and loving world… and that they deserve nothing less.

Racism dehumanizes us all and the choice to love is what will reconnect and heal us.

As social activist bell hooks said, “When we choose to love, we choose to move against fear, against alienation and separation. The choice to love is a choice to connect, to find ourselves in the other.”

Homily 3
by Julie Gillis

Looking back over my life, my activism has always had to do with the body. I’ve been a staunch supporter of reproductive justice, of LGBT intersecting rights, of worker’s rights, and of ability rights, anti-racism work. It is often frustrating work, and it can feel hopeless at times, especially in a state like Texas. Love, and its revolutionary power are vital to that work and for those who do that work.

I believe it’s revolutionary to love the body. The body gets complicated in our culture. From Original Sin to Pauline Theology to Dualism (and even other religious paths aiming to free to soul from its earthly form, the physical body gets a bad rap). I can admit to feeling fear when I share some of the storytelling work I do (it’s about the body and sexuality and pleasure) because our culture is so shaming, about what bodies should and shouldn’t do. But I do it anyway. I often feel fear when I confront my own racism, because I know it is a poison in my body, and in our larger cultural body. I wonder how to heal any of it while suffering from it and being, even inadvertently, a cause of it.

We may not always think of it that way, but racism is completely tied up in the body – people, centuries ago, decided that black and brown bodies should serve white bodies. The body itself was supposed to be a mirror of god, or we created god as a mirror of the dominant body at the time. In our culture it was a Christian, white, able bodied, straight, cis gendered men.

Thus we had bodies that were superior and other bodies to serve them. We had bodies with uteruses serving bodies without. Poor bodies made to work for rich bodies. Bodies to be sold. Or impregnated and given away. Or locked up in facilities for not being perfect. Laws were passed delineating who gets to pee where, who gets to decide when or if to stay pregnant. Who gets to ride a bus, who gets to drink out of a water fountain.

And if those disuniting decisions were being made by individuals, what happened next was that those isms solidified into institutions like the church body, which then reinforced personal beliefs in a toxic mobius strip effect. It’s also revolutionary love to confront the body politic.

I do this work because of the body. I have one. You have one. We all have one and they are precious. If our body as a church isn’t in alignment with the bodies of its people, we are going to have a hard time sustaining our mission statement of gathering together in community to nourish souls, transform lives, and do justice.

To stay in communion and complete that mission requires the revolutionary love that only our bodies can bring. Can you imagine what it would be to live in a world that LOVED each body? That loved the body of earth? Really LOVED it, like a parent loves a child or a lover loves the beloved? We wouldn’t hurt each other. We wouldn’t destroy our water, our air. We wouldn’t sell each other, or use each other like products based on gender, or melanin, or age.

We’d take delight in our differences. Take joy in shades of skin, textures of hair, wrinkles, sizes of bodies. Celebrate romantic unions of various genders happily and with grace. Honor choices. Share food and resources and lift each other up. We’d look back and be ashamed and heartbroken over what’s such disunity. We must wake up to that revolutionary love and real communion.

Our larger human body is only as healthy as our individual ones. The more we can heal and support the individual, the more impact on the institution, leading back to cultural bodies that truly support individual ones. That’s what nurtures me, this vision of love reversing that mobius strip into a healing cycle that support human beings and back again. It starts with love and with us.

Homily 4
by Rev. Chris Jimmerson

Text of the homily will be posted as it becomes available.


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