As we begin the New Year I have been considering what it means for me to be a reconciler. The work of reconciliation is not to be under-estimated. Far more than inspiring people to reach across aisles and hold hands for an hour, the work of leading reconciliation is taxing- mentally, emotionally and often physically. Reflecting on this work has led me to the conclusion that racial reconciliation cannot be achieved without first establishing racial justice. It is this establishment of justice that proves so costly to anyone leading the charge towards reconciliation. 

There are many in the church who want to form superficial friendships, learn how to avoid being offensive, invoke racial colorblindness and call it reconciliation.  Far fewer people want to establish justice because justice requires the sacrifice of power, truthfully confessing sin, altering leadership roles, moving marginalized voices to the center, giving and extending grace, mercy, love. The work of justice must run deeper than emotion to be sustainable, but there are so many emotions to wade through to get to the heart of justice. 

Given this reality, racial justice is difficult to establish, difficult to paint as desirable! It is so much work to show that our system of racial privilege is not just taxing on people of color, but that it destroys the humanity of all participants. History is so clear on the lengths to which the seduction of systemic power and privilege will erode the fabric of our humanity. And yet we cling so tightly to the seduction. The work of reconciliation is in letting go. Because of this I used to begin the work of reconciliation by prying hands open, one finger at a time. Used to begin with any glimmer of superficial interest. Used to answer every question. Take any offense.

Over time I have come to learn that this way is simply too much for me. I have come to a place where I will not condemn. Will not force. Will not sacrifice my emotional health in the hopes of igniting a passion for reconciliation. I now invite. I invite into a new way, a way of justice, a way toward reconciliation. This year I am owning this position. I will invite. You will decide.   

I am finding great inspiration in a poem by Kate Rushin called The Bridge Poem. You can (and should) read the poem in its entirety HERE, but following are a few of my favorite lines: 

"… I’m sick of mediating with your worst self 
On behalf of your better selves 
  
I am sick 
Of having to remind you 
To breathe 
Before you suffocate 
Your own fool self 
  
Forget it 
Stretch or drown 
Evolve or die 
  
The bridge I must be 
Is the bridge to my own power…"  

Lifegiving. Lifegiving because I am still owning these words.  

I am learning that I need to interact with more than the "worst self" of those who need absolution from the guilt and shame of a racist past (or present). I am learning that everyone must own their journey, their education, their growth. "Evolve or die" The choice belongs to each person, but I am not responsible for that choice. I am learning that it is only when I become "the bridge to my own power" that I am truly of use in this work of reconciliation. 

We can walk together.

We can walk together.

But this year I am refusing to be your bridge. 

It has been so much fun sharing my heart for racial reconciliation and socioeconomic understanding over this year. In a few days, I will publish my first post for 2014, but today I just want to look back through the posts that were most popular this year. I also want to thank you for all the public comments, personal emails, Facebook friends and twitter shout outs over the year. I am grateful. 

#5. Skittles & Iced Tea

As hard as I tried, I just couldn't get myself to see Trayvon Martin's death in isolation. In my mind I can see slave ships unloading black bodies like cattle. I see families torn from one another on the auction block. I see the terrified faces of black men desperately trying to out run a lynch mob. I see burned bodies floating above dying campfires. I see the hatred of students screaming at Ruby Bridges, and I hear the shot that killed Medgar Evers in his driveway. The image of Emmett Till and Trayvon Martin bleed into one face, one story. And as if these pictures of history aren't overwhelming enough, the faces of the men I love loom before me. If I could quantify the history of injustice in my own family, I wonder if the scales of justice would fall over. How many beatings? How many lynchings? How much police brutality? How many false accusations? How often has the fear of America overtaken justice in my own lineage? How many times did injustice crush the hearts and minds of the men who produced me? I probably don't want to know. But I wonder.  Read the entire post here. 

#4. For The Onlies

To the only Latino boy who must be present at the parent/teacher conference- the constant mediator, translator, teacher and learner. To the only Asian boy who must explain his "funny" eyes. To the only black boy already considered the mean one, the violent one. To the only First Nation boy who is laughed at for his long hair, who is asked to cut it off because it's distracting for others. To the only Middle Eastern boy whose place of worship was threatened last week, last month, last year.To the only multiracial boy in the class who has to explain his parents, his siblings, his family- even to adults.  May you know that your ability is a skill not a tragedy. May you reject the notion that different equals strange. May you create titles that you are comfortable wearing and throw away the rest. May you never apologize for being distracting, for perhaps that's exactly what's needed to break up the monotony. May you worship in peace. May your answers be simple and sarcastic and knowing...

To all the Onlies of all races, all colors all combinations who are quirky, colorful and constantly changing: may you find that you are not monolithic- that your version of 'us' is nothing short of brilliant. May you know that you are lovable, incredible, fearfully and wonderfully made. May you find special ways, among special people to let your culture breathe.  Read the entire post here. 

#3. Subtleties

[Patriarchy] thinks my ideas are truly brilliant, but only after being repeated by a man.  

It doesn't tell me I won't be successful, but it needs to protect me from myself because I am, of course, incapable of success without it. I am too emotional, trusting, and inexperienced to make it on my own. 

Here's the kicker, my complexion only complicates things further. I must also work around its whiteness, affluence, assumptions. I must hold my culture in tension. I'll bring that "black mysticism" to the table- the eternal prophetess of the Matrix, handing you all the foresight you need to succeed, but I won't go overboard. I  wouldn't want to make our largely white audience uncomfortable with my blackness.

So best not be too sing-songy, too loud, too outgoing. I won't talk directly about race or anything that might be code for race- you know words like "hip-hop" and "urban" and "collard greens"… really black things. I mean, who can relate to any of that?  Read the entire post here.

#2. Dwelt Among Us 

But the Word didn't turn away. Didn't turn away from that ragtag group of disciples, passionate but often completely misunderstanding the mission. Didn't turn away from men or women. Didn't turn away from Jews or Gentiles, even those most unholy Samaritans or those oppressive Romans. Didn't turn away from the sick or the afflicted. Even the dead received an audience with the Divine. The Word crashed through social barriers, religious convention, and everyone's expectations.  Read the entire post here. 

#1.  Song to My Sisters 

[Mary] spends three months in the safety of her female cousin and friend. As soon as the two meet there is rejoicing. Elizabeth does not condemn her, does not berate her, does not look at her sideways, does not ask her to outline her future plans…

Elizabeth exclaims to her, "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear!" That alone makes me tear up, but Elizabeth continues, "But why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her!" 

And when Elizabeth finishes, Mary launches into her own song!

Isn't that the beauty of what women can do for one another? In the midst of confusion and heartache, uncertainty and pain, women sing songs of affirmation, of presence, of joy, of hope and suddenly the way we see ourselves and our God changes. Suddenly we are favored. We can make it. God's promises can be true. I wonder how often Mary repeated the words of Elizabeth during her journey to Bethlehem and in the midst of her labor. The words of women carry us so far.  Read the entire post here. 

BONUS! There was one guest post I did in 2013 that was an honor to write, and received more comments and interaction than I've ever had! "Ask A Racial Reconciler" featured on the site of Rachel Held Evens:

Question from Suzannah:  What are some of the blind spots harbored by progressive sorts that hinder the work of racial reconciliation? 

There are two that drive me crazy. One is the assumption that there is nothing left to learn from those who are just beginning. Nothing will kill a conversation faster than someone who speaks like they have nothing to learn from others in the room. And it doesn’t really matter what color they are! Whoever comes into the room closed to learning risks ruining the safety in the room. They make vulnerability impossible for everyone else. 

The second are progressives who become so enamored with their progress in the conversation that they forget I can speak for myself. The danger contained in the word “ally” is the ever-present possibility that he/she will start speaking for me rather than creating space for me to speak for myself. Having an ally that doesn’t see a need for my voice to be present is in many ways of no greater help to me than a declared racist who doesn’t think my voice matters at all.  Read the entire post here. 

HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE! 

"But Mary kept all these things and pondered them in her heart." Luke 2:19

In just two chapters, much as happened in the life of Mary. When the book of Luke opens the focus is on Mary's cousin Elizabeth and her husband. God is doing a lot of speaking but Elizabeth's husband Zechariah is having a hard time believing. Nonetheless Elizabeth does conceive, but for 5 months she keeps her pregnancy hidden. Then the story shifts to Mary. She is visited by an angel and agrees to participate in this great conspiracy to birth a King. She visits Elizabeth, only to discover that she is now 6 months pregnant! Filled with the Holy Spirit, Elizabeth prophesies over Mary. The pair stay together for 3 months. When Mary returns home, she and Joseph hear the decree that they must travel to Bethlehem, and set out on their journey. During the journey, Mary goes into labor and delivers her little boy, wrapping him in swaddling clothes and laying him in a manger. While she watches him, a group of shepherds descend on the little family, declaring that a host of angels told them a Savior was born on this night. Then the shepherds left to spread the word about the newborn Savior. "But Mary kept all these things and pondered them in her heart."

2013 has been a tough and beautiful year for me, and I wonder if Mary would have used the same description for herself in this moment. There is little question that Mary had a tough year. As she faced pregnancy, an unwed woman, she must have been the talk of the town, an easy target, ostracized, and feeling very unloved. We can hardly blame Joseph for trying to determine what to do with this new development in their relationship, but that, too, must have weighed on Mary's heart. In the early days of conceiving, where does she go?

To Elizabeth.

She spends three months in the safety of her female cousin and friend. As soon as the two meet there is rejoicing. Elizabeth does not condemn her, does not berate her, does not look at her sideways, does not ask her to outline her future plans…

Elizabeth exclaims to her, "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear!" That alone makes me tear up, but Elizabeth continues, "But why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy. Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her!" 

And when Elizabeth finishes, Mary launches into her own song!

Isn't that the beauty of what women can do for one another? In the midst of confusion and heartache, uncertainty and pain, women sing songs of affirmation, of presence, of joy, of hope and suddenly the way we see ourselves and our God changes. Suddenly we are favored. We can make it. God's promises can be true. I wonder how often Mary repeated the words of Elizabeth during her journey to Bethlehem and in the midst of her labor. The words of women carry us so far. 

This Christmas I decided to ponder in my heart all that has transpired over the year. As I thought about the many women who carried me through the year I resolved to finally, for the first time in my life, send Christmas cards. These cards went to 20 women who sang songs of hope to me this year. 

Before the year ends, will you join me on Twitter in singing songs to the women in our lives? Use #SongtomySisters and lets sing all that we mean to each other. 

In this season of advent, when many of us are pondering the life and birth of the Prince of Peace, we find ourselves also remembering the life of peacemaker Nelson Mandela.  For the last couple of days news programs, television specials, and radio addresses have reminded us of Mandela's achievements and sacrifices. Twitter and Facebook have been abuzz with Mandela's quotes. As I have learned much more about Mandela's legacy through all these vehicles and consider the life of Jesus, a very elementary thought has occurred to me:

Peacemaking doesn't look all that peaceful. 

This is a very rudimentary snapshot of Nelson Mandela's life up to his arrest:

• Mandela was suspended from college for political agitation, and he was not called a peacemaker.
• He allied with members of the Communist party who were willing to treat black Africans with dignity and respect, and he was not called a peacemaker.
• With support of his ANC party, Mandela started a military wing, though carefully planned and focused on sabotage, was a departure from nonviolence and passive resistance, and he was not called a peacemaker.
• He snuck out of the country, illegally, to build outside allies against aparthied and snuck back in to continue his efforts against the system, and he was not called a peacemaker.
• His actions led to an arrest and imprisonment because Mandela was not called a peacemaker. Mandela was considered a trouble-maker, a rabble rouser, even a terrorist. 

Causing trouble seems to be the M.O. for peacemakers, and their movements seem to be marked by a significant lack of peace, at least in the beginning. Sojourner Truth, Cesar Chavez, Jane Addams, Martin Luther King Jr., Mahatma Gandhi, Rosa Parks, Deitrich Bonhoeffer- this list is by no means exhaustive (find more than 1200 peacemakers listed here). But even this small list serves our purpose in showcasing that most were considered peacemakers only in hindsight. 

I looked up the definition of peacemaker, and I found various forms of "someone who reconciles adversaries and brings peace." This is usually what we [the Church] preach about when we call our congregations to be peacemakers. We ask them to resolve conflict with in-laws, to reconcile with siblings, to dialogue with colleagues, to fix interpersonal relationships. While I certainly agree that we should be resolving interpersonal conflicts between one another, this is not why we remember the lives of these men and women, including Jesus. (Ironically enough, many of these peacemakers struggled with healthy interpersonal relationships for the better part of their public lives). The reason we remember the lives of these peacemakers is because they fought for peace AFTER.

They fought for peace after demanding justice. 

They fought for peace after condemning the status quo. 

They fought for peace after seeking equity and equality on a systemic level. 

They fought for peace after speaking truth to power. 

They fought for peace after challenging existing social structures and hierarchies.  

And our beloved Christ is not exempt from this behavior. He turned social and religious convention on its head; he showed the followers a new way. He challenged the idea that some people are clean but others are not- innate superiority, innate defect. He touched bleeding women and sufferers of leprosy. He talked to Samaritans and affirmed the faith of Romans. He attended parties with drink and let prostitutes touch his feet. He told crazy stories about good samaritans and suggested the rich give up their wealth to follow him. He let women sit as feet to learn and choose for himself the strangest group of disciples. He completely ignored the laws of Sabbath if it meant healing for someone and regularly challenged the laws of Moses. It was a wild ride with this Jesus. And He, too, was not considered a peacemaker. Jesus's very birth induced mass slaughter; the result of Herod's fear of a new king. 

Peacemakers overturn unjust systems for the sake of creating equitable relationships thereby achieving peace. 

So here is the question for us: when we start calling people to be peacemakers, are we ready for that? 

Consider your church. Are you ready for marginalized groups to rise up and demand that any inequities which exist in your current structure be torn down and a new way be created in its place that significantly changes the current power structure of your church? 

Chances are there is a group in your church already seeking equity. How are you treating them right now? Are you trying to appease them? Trying to keep them out? Trying to manage them? Trying to reframe their arguments and cast them as troublemakers? Do you trust that the new system they are interested in helping to create will be equitable and will bring peace? Do you want peacemakers in your midst?

If we really look at the lives of the people we have dubbed peacemakers, it would be glaringly obvious that peacemakers are seeking something far more profound than a lack of conflict. We are calling people to pursue justice and equity no matter the cost. We are calling people to rebel, to protest, to organize. We are calling people to a life of speaking truth to power, a life of prophetic speech, a life that may stand in direct opposition to the status quo your church, your neighborhood, your community is trying to maintain. I'll be your peacemaker, but remember that means i have to tear some stuff down first and it won't look or feel very peaceful.  

The life of our Prince of Peace showed us a new. But as only the Divine can do, He didn't just operate on a human level. He also operated on a spiritual one. This Prince of Peace destroyed a system of law- a system that required a level of sacrifice that none of us could truly meet. When enmity stood between God and humanity, Peace stepped in. Peace changed the system. Peace found a new way to salvation. 

How

Where

When

will you make peace? Interpersonal relationships are a great place to practice, but what would be the state of our world if these peacemakers never went beyond their families, friends and co-workers? 

This advent season, will we make peace in the world?