CHURCH FOLKS' HOPE AND ME

Momma once told me when I was questioning the efficacy of church in my late teens or early twenties that it gave the people something "to hold onto ; it gave them hope."
Her explanation makes more and more sense as I age and reflect. Still though, I was not convinced .
After law school, while living here, in Kansas City, I again excoriated the efficacy of the church among a group of fellow lawyers of the faith. I said that the black church was holding black people and black power back. One young woman, who was a dear friend, was totally dismissive of my black church criticism. She said that it was the ones who were in the black church who were the only ones doing the most wonderful, admirable things for our race; that the other ones, outside of the church were the problem, being criminals, drop-outs, welfare recipients and so on.
I was convicted right then , as I reflected that my home training was strongly church-based , as was that of the other lawyers with whom I was conversing. Direct hit!
In a dust storm one gets dusty. In the rain one gets wet . In a desert one desiccates, becomes dry. The place that one is immured may be most determinative of one's later "verdure," that is, one own personal value or productivity to society, to oneself, to one's family by simple logical deduction, and observation.
Looking back over my black history, which was my passion, I was forced to realize that the ancient savants and philosophers were high priests, as were the latter-day ones as well; this was true of those in post-exilic American land who led our freedom wars, against "white" racism's lies.
This realization buoyed me greatly. Also, my mother, Margie, had never abandoned me; she had never left me alone. Like St. Augustine of Hippo's mother, Monica, who never abandoned him, even when he was gone away from Carthage teaching in Rome, she never stopped writing letters, working on me for the Lord.
Good, God-fearing mothers do not let go; never let go of their children. By the same token they respect and support their children and they talk to them about their own yet unresolved questions in the faith.
My mother later asked me what "reconciled" or "reconciliation" meant. I explained it to her to the best of my ability using the phrase, "God and sinner reconciled." She seemed to be satisfied with that.
Later, while visiting Butler, Missouri, the site of my first church, she had privately rebuked me for stating the "Apostle 's Creed" in public falsely. If I did so, I was ignorant of it; since the CME version that she knew that I was reared upon, differs slightly in its wording from my later, AME's.
Hope sustains life. "Keep hope alive!" "Hope" has sustained our parents, grandparents, our great-great! Keep it going! It will keep you going! "Keep hope alive!" Rev. Jesse Jackson's expression is real. And is true in my life, and in many!
Tuesday, June 20, 2017
CHURCH AND ME
CHURCH FOLKS' HOPE AND ME

Momma once told me when I was questioning the efficacy of church in my late teens or early twenties that it gave the people something "to hold onto ; it gave them hope."
Her explanation makes more and more sense as I age and reflect. Still though, I was not convinced .
After law school, while living here, in Kansas City, I again excoriated the efficacy of the church among a group of fellow lawyers of the faith. I said that the black church was holding black people and black power back. One young woman, who was a dear friend, was totally dismissive of my black church criticism. She said that it was the ones who were in the black church who were the only ones doing the most wonderful, admirable things for our race; that the other ones, outside of the church were the problem, being criminals, drop-outs, welfare recipients and so on.
I was convicted right then , as I reflected that my home training was strongly church-based , as was that of the other lawyers with whom I was conversing. Direct hit!
In a dust storm one gets dusty. In the rain one gets wet . In a desert one desiccates, becomes dry. The place that one is immured may be most determinative of one's later "verdure," that is, one own personal value or productivity to society, to oneself, to one's family by simple logical deduction, and observation.
Looking back over my black history, which was my passion, I was forced to realize that the ancient savants and philosophers were high priests, as were the latter-day ones as well; this was true of those in post-exilic American land who led our freedom wars, against "white" racism's lies.
This realization buoyed me greatly. Also, my mother, Margie, had never abandoned me; she had never left me alone. Like St. Augustine of Hippo's mother, Monica, who never abandoned him, even when he was gone away from Carthage teaching in Rome, she never stopped writing letters, working on me for the Lord.
Good, God-fearing mothers do not let go; never let go of their children. By the same token they respect and support their children and they talk to them about their own yet unresolved questions in the faith.
My mother later asked me what "reconciled" or "reconciliation" meant. I explained it to her to the best of my ability using the phrase, "God and sinner reconciled." She seemed to be satisfied with that.
Later, while visiting Butler, Missouri, the site of my first church, she had privately rebuked me for stating the "Apostle 's Creed" in public falsely. If I did so, I was ignorant of it; since the CME version that she knew that I was reared upon, differs slightly in its wording from my later, AME's.
Hope sustains life. "Keep hope alive!" "Hope" has sustained our parents, grandparents, our great-great! Keep it going! It will keep you going! "Keep hope alive!" Rev. Jesse Jackson's expression is real. And is true in my life, and in many!
