Burning Branches - Part 1

Listening to Revd. Jim Hamilton and the responses of the congregation of Church on the Square in Baltimore, what stuck with me is that rage is not logical. In the midst of so much chaos and high tensions, Jim reminded us to hold our judgment for a second on the events that have unfolded. That is to remember that rage is neither calculated nor present without a catalyst.

Rage, like love, is an emotion. It does not carefully deliberate plans and consequences. Like a fire, it needs to be kindled, to be set alight with fuel, space and time before it burns. Once rage explodes it tends to engulf everything in its wake. Rage burns down ugly derelict houses in a neighbourhood as well as newly renovated houses that a community has spent itself to build. Rage can burn out an old car, but it can just as equally set alight Broadway East community’s church housing project for the elderly, a local small business without adequate insurance and a pharmacy that a community depends on for access to medicines.

Rage does not calculate wrongs, it is a violent, intense response to external cues. In the case of Baltimore the cues built up, until they were out of control. Such cues include the black Medic-Aid patient who routinely waits longer for a hospital bed than the white Medic-Aid patient, the mother whose innocent son is routinely pulled over and arrested, a little league of Black and Hispanic children on their way to play baseball that residents assume they are a street gang. These ‘everyday’ stories I heard in Baltimore are experiences that can build up, like the account of Freddie Gray, and if not given voice, can explode in rage.

If these stories are all contributory, then how far do we all bear responsibility for the rage that some of the people of Baltimore felt and the way in which they showed this? How far are we who watch the accounts on the television accountable for the actions we condemn on it?

Sunday's reading of John 15 reminds us that we respond to evil and to good by abiding in Jesus – because without Him we can do nothing (John 15:4-5). Jesus says ‘Whoever does not abide in me is thrown away like a branch and withers; such branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned.’ We are invited to allow Christ to routinely burn and destroy the evil around us and inside of us: prejudice, hatred, oppression, murder. In doing this Christ burns away the parts of us that bear no good fruit.

If we hold on to our bad branches, and live within the bad branches of others, our chaos and hatred remains, fermenting over time like fuel, prime for explosion. Where the injustice simply festers in us and in our communities we risk everything:  by holding on to the prejudice and evil inside of us, we risk even the good branches that remain being burnt or destroyed in the explosion which can ensue.

Baltimore

We left Baltimore yesterday, full of mixed emotions. We were sad to have left so many amazing new friends, but also to have been with the city in the midst of so much tension, sadness and anger. Being with people of the churches and the community we experienced so much hope and potential amidst shock and confusion. It was early days, there didn’t seem to be much space for people to reflect in the midst of that world, things were constantly volatile. On Saturday we had joined with volunteers from across the neighbourhood to board up some of the shop fronts that had been destroyed by riots. There was a huge sense of hope of so many giving up their time to join in solidarity and service for the community. At the same time that morning, just four blocks away, a local shop owner was fatality shot. A city is always full of contradictions but in a time of such extreme emotion those contradictions are experienced like someone screaming right up in your face.

Yesterday folks from Church on the Square joined with hundreds across Baltimore to protest again. This time it was not a protest to necessarily change the government or powers that be – the district attorney had already made a moving statement to pronounce that justice would continue to be fought for Freddie Gray and his family. This it was a protest of solidarity to change ourselves and our future, to end a culture of fear, of poverty and of racism. The protest went from the Northwest District through to the Southeast, inviting neighborhoods normally segregated by poverty and race to walk together. This was a march to simply be together as people who shared hope for each other and the city. A few hours later the curfew was lifted.

It is still early days for Baltimore and the city certainly needs our prayers. However I think I have learnt that we need to pray for ourselves also; for the prejudices and divisions, contradictions and wars that happen in our cities and in our hearts, often in silence. It was out of those same problems that happen all over the world that Baltimore’s current situation exploded.

Theatre of the Oppressed

This week I was able to spend some time with Jeremiah Kyle Drake at Riverside Church, New York. Jeremiah is the Theatre of the Oppressed co-ordinator for the church. Theatre of the Oppressed is a tool and philosophy that I trained in some years ago and is an incredible way to creatively facilitate dialogue between people. The practice was developed by Brazilian theatre practitioner Augusto Boal and influenced by the work of the educator and theorist Paulo Freire. The practice is a means by which men and women are able to become more fully human by dealing critically and reflectively with their reality; acting it out and listening to others do the same. Put simply, it is dialogue. This process invites a deeper awareness of how we all, each day, are part of participating in the transformation of our world, for better or worse.

Theatre of the Oppressed (TO) recognises each human being as theatre – a person sees the situation and sees one’s self in the situation – we are always at once actor and spectator. Once we realise this, we realise the power that our actions have in our world, and so with that our power to help ourselves and others. If we cannot exercise this right to act and to have dialogue – to allow others to understand us or our cause then we are oppressed. If we deny others their chance to speak, or refuse to listen to them, we oppress them.

With this the Theatre of the Oppressed is a space in which we are invited to realise who we are and the roles we play in situations of oppression in our world. It is also a place to think and feel our way into acting in a way that overcomes this. TO is a rehearsal for reality which itself is reality also.

I’m conscious that as I have been reflecting on this, the riots and peaceful protests continue in Baltimore. Martin Luther King once said that riots are the voice of the voiceless. So many of the people, mainly young people involved have felt that their voice has gone completely unheard. One youthworker described going into a school in Baltimore recently and asking in an assembly who in the school had lost someone they knew to violence in the city: everyone put up their hand. The youthworker then asked the young people to put up their hand if they had been on a protest or been represented on a protest against this injustice: no hand went up. Theatre of the Oppressed is just one, very simple way in which those who feel voiceless can discover their voice, and its clear that these methods are needed, not just in Baltimore, but in all of our communities, for the injustices that lie unspoken.

Jeremiah articulated to me the ways in which the Theatre of the Oppressed’s own philosophy and principals are actually those of the Gospel.  There are principals that seek to building a world where all are invited to ‘participate in human society as an equal, to respect differences and be respected’  and to become more fully human. Here dialogue prevails and work is for peace. TO allows people to be acting subjects of their own lives and its intention is always to develop societies that flourish and are just. The more I reflected on this the more I wonder that if these principles do not seem familiar to our church life, we probably need to take more action than we thought.

Warriors of the Dream

Yesterday I went to be part of a project called ‘Warriors of the Dream’ at St Phillips Church East Harlem. The group had been so called after the words of Ozzie Davis, friend of Martin Luther King Jr, to a group that had achieved their goals despite everything the world had thrown in their path, saying: 'You are my warriors of the dream.' The warriors are those people who, in the power of peace and justice, build, create and lead. The group explores their own history: Martin Luther King’s own dream, the dreams of their elders and the dreams of their future. Influenced by movements such as #blacklivesmattter it has been set up in recognition of the difficult challenges that face many of the young people living in Harlem, and in recognition of all the potential that they have to change their futures.

The group gathers like church to share time, food and fellowship. This time has a purpose of hearing God: for the group this is pursuing transformation of themselves and their neighborhood. The worship and liturgy takes place in the form of a drumming circle. The practice of drumming connects the group with their own roots and deep history, but also with a power that goes beyond words. It is a place for contemplation, but also for an acknowledgement of the power that the group has as a force for positive transformation. Scripture and spoken word is also incorporated into this practice, as is reflection, dialogue and listening across the group. 

So often dreams for hope and peace are characterized by passivity and quiet in our churches – the latter is no bad thing in itself. Yet when these young people that same day have woken up to more news that more riots are breaking out in Baltimore after black men have been killed unlawfully by white police, quiet just doesn’t cut it as an response. There is a place and need for anger, for feelings of betrayal, abandonment and grief to be shouted out in a way that is also a call for change, for truth and for transformation.

As I sat in the circle I watched more and more people join us from the local area and pick up a drum. As David the drumming leader said, you don't need to be an expert to play the drum, you just need to touch it to make a noise. For me this is also a metaphor for any way in which we can stand up for truth and justice - we don't need to be an expert on the law, we just need to say the truth our loud, to be counted, we just need to hit the drum. 

Usually traffic horns and sirens dominate the soundscape of Harlem, but this Sunday afternoon djembe drums could be herd several blocks away from where we were, and a few people stopped by to join in and share. One hearer said it was as if his soul was sleeping, he told us 'the drums called it into action'. This was a liturgy that was accessible, but also real, that captured the feeling and emotion of a community, but also proclaimed the presence of God in a place of conflict and destruction; the presence and power of hope in the midst of despair.

Syracuse – New York State - Part 2

Syracuse is in New York State, and can feel like the forgotten town for some of the young people there. Guns and drugs get passed on from New York City and young people, ending up in a city where they feel there is nothing to do but aspire to a copycat NYC gang culture, often get involved in criminal activity. This might be to make a name for themselves, or simply to give them something to do. It is the trend in Syracuse for young people to walk around with large medallion style picture of person they ‘know’ (however well) that has been killed in some sort of violence, usually gang related street violence.

The death of friend is tragic for these young people. Young people have to find space to reflect, grieve and process. As part of this, young people wear this memorial around their neck. Yet in Nate’s experience this unusual act is also more than this, it is a badge of honour, a way of aligning themselves with a particular group or gang culture. The other side of this is that these young people are getting stuck in the present moment, stuck in bitterness and despondency to the world they experience which is one of death and desolation. Unable to lift their eyes beyond it, their anger and frustration often explodes in revenge attacks and the sad spiral continues.

Reflecting on this with Nate Peña the director of Pass Da Rock and in his role at his church as a Missional Director , it seems that one of the biggest issues he finds is that young people lack aspiration and hope; they struggle to see beyond the immediate. For those of you working with young people for any length of time in the UK and indeed in many of the world's cities, I’m sure you too can relate to this – often we come across young people who do not appear to aspire to anything, not college, work or even family life.

It seems pretty sad and somewhat ironic that there are so many young people with so little aspiration in state that has plastered on every car registration plate ‘Empire State’… In our cities we can claim huge big picture aspirations but how far do these actually filter down to people's daily lives? These young people certainly don't seem to live as citizens of an 'Empire State'.

Embers

This week we work up to the smell of burnt plastic. The local recycling plant had burnt down in the night. The cause of the fire is still under investigation, but speaking to come people locally arson could have been a possibility. Arson is not the problem that is had been in Flint, but with over 25% of Flints buildings derelict and abandoned, it had been an issue. 1631 were reported at vacant homes and buildings in the city from 2008-2012. Half of the fires are believed to be caused by children under 18 years old, some of these seeking a thrill, others out of anger, revenge or metal health issues, others because they have felt frustrated, surrounded by abandoned, dirty and derelict buildings.

Most residents are desperate about the situation. The attacks cost the city millions in fire-fighting and legal investigations, and now the city cannot afford to employ its own investigators of these fires, insurance companies are sending their own investigators in. There are reports that such investigations have found an arson for profit group had also been operating in Flint, with people unable to sell their houses, desperate to get money from somewhere in order to leave the city, this group has since been arrested.

In one street a house that had been recently renovated burn down after catching alight from a delict house that was set on fire next door. This house had been a symbol of hope for many in the community; a neighbour explained how others from the neighbourhood had come out to watch it, some of whom had been involved in its renovation. Many stood there helpless, in tears. A friend of mine who witnessed this decided to work with students at the university to give voice to the anger pain and frustration that the community were feeling through a verbatim theatre project, Embers. Playwright Andrew Morton worked with students to gather thoughts and feelings of local residents. The performance took place on the street where one of the houses had been destroyed and local residents came to watch it, sharing in their own stories and the hope they felt for the future of the city. You can find out more about the project here (Chapter 3).

Still others are rebuilding and renovating buildings in Flint, and whilst some people are still moving out, some are moving in. The landbank is a governmental organisation is currently in a process of doing this as part of their Neighbourhood Stabilisation Program.