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 Voicing Our Faith |
15 April 2007 Oberlin College was founded in 1833 by liberal Congregationalists—a redundancy to most ears. It opened its doors as the first co-educational institute of higher education in the United States, and within two years, was racially integrated as well. Still, even with its aggressively progressive policies, if the authorities had held sway, Antoinette Brown would never have been ordained. But God had a hold on her, and Antoinette Louisa Brown became the first American woman ordained as Christian minister. Not that it was a cake walk. Oberlin may have been the first coeducational school to grant college degrees to women and to accept students of all races, but women were hardly considered equals with their male counterparts. The women were expected to clean rooms, wash clothes and serve food for the male students. In 1847, Brown finished the less academically-challenging literary course taken by most women. But when she decided to study theology, that same liberal faculty stood in her way. They didn’t think theology was an appropriate field of study for a woman. Thank God for the school charter! – it decreed that no student could be excluded on the basis of sex, so Brown enrolled and finished the theological course in 1850. College faculties can be an obstinate bunch, though. The college took another twenty-eight years to award her a college degree, and she didn’t even receive a license to preach. Between 1847 and 1849, Brown traveled the abolitionist lecture circuit and preached whenever she had an opportunity. This was at a time when public speaking by women was taboo. Male preachers were no more enlightened than Oberlin’s faculty—they often shouted her down. Finally, on September 15, 1853 Antoinette Brown was ordained a minister of the First Congregational Church in South Butler, New York. That didn’t last long. A year later, she withdrew as minister of her congregation – because she didn’t buy the idea of the original sin and predestination. She then became a Unitarian.[2] In spite of Oberlin’s racially inclusive policies for higher education, it took even longer for African Americans to break through a number of social conventions. Today marks an anniversary known to baseball fans across the nation…. Sixty years ago today, Jackie Robinson stepped across the third base line at Brooklyn’s Ebbett’s Field to join the Dodgers as Number 42. His path was no less challenging than Antoinette Brown’s. Racial taunts and slurs were the norm; insults on the field and off--there were times he wasn’t even allowed to sleep with the team; death threats, and character assassination dogged him. But Dodgers’ manager Branch Rickey (known as “the Mahatma” for his baseball wisdom) had singled Robinson out. He found in Robinson not only exceptional talent, but also extraordinary faith and character. Before Robinson ever stepped foot on Ebbett’s Field, Rickey himself had tested Robinson by throwing the anticipated abuse at him, seeking in Robinson the strength not to respond in anger. God had a hold on Robinson. Robinson was the son of Georgia share croppers and the grandson of slaves, but he grew up in Pasadena, California, where he was influenced profoundly by Karl Downs, the 25-year-old pastor of a local Methodist church. Many feel that with the exception of Martin Luther King, Jr., Robinson was possibly the most important African American man of the twentieth century. That perspective rings true for Buck O’Neil, chair of the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum in Kansas City. O’Neil points out that “before President Truman desegregated the military, before the bus boycott in Birmingham, before the civil rights marches in the South, before Rosa Parks, before Brown v. Board of Education, before anyone had ever heard of Martin Luther King, Jr.,”[3], and before Cassius Clay became Muhammad Ali, there was Jackie Robinson. Clearly, God had a hold on his life. Jackie Robinson didn’t set out to make headlines and challenge convention. Neither did Antoinette Brown. But when God has a hold on our lives, ordinary people can do extraordinary things. Like Peter and the other apostles before them, Robinson and Brown became bold witnesses…in very mixed environments. Mixed because on the one hand, their witness gave hope and courage to others—Robinson claimed that a life is not important except in the impact it has on other lives.[3] Mixed because on the other hand, the social pressures to conform to contemporary expectations were enormous…they always are for biblical people. Like Peter and the other apostles preaching and healing in Jerusalem despite the demands of the temple authorities to stop, Brown and Robinson shared the conviction that in the person of Jesus the Christ, God’s hand was upon them. Their witness blazed the path for our present reality. Without the Antoinette Browns, I might not be standing here today. Without Jackie Brown, the genius of a Tiger Woods or an Arthur Ashe might have skipped even more generations. And there’s the challenge. Last week at the Potomac Association’s monthly ministerium, we received a presentation from one of our pastors, Art Waidman. Art has worked for decades addressing the issue of racism in its multiple forms—personal, cultural, and institutional. He talked about being non-racist—about being “color blind,” denying that there are differences between various races. That’s the pea-soup or the melting pot approach…everything is so blended together it loses any particular identity. And Art talked about being anti-racist—about recognizing and honoring our multiple racial and ethnic backgrounds…more like a tossed salad, that still creates a new whole, but the pieces that make it up also maintain their individual identity. The outrage elicited by the sad spectacle of Don Imus and his unconscionable racist and sexist remarks shows that we have made some progress—but as Frost would say, we still have miles to go before we sleep. We read the newspaper. We watch the news. We listen to the radio. Whether it’s Sudan or Afghanistan, those with the weapons to do so still kill, and terrorize and abuse at will. Racist and sexist epithets are still acceptable enough that it took days of corporate hand-wringing and mounting public pressure before just one shock jock lost his unfettered access to public airwaves. Despite mountains of evidence of global warming, US auto manufacturers still resist higher mileage standards, and our overuse of the world’s resources is the unfortunate model for all too many developing nations. It is tempting to concede to cultural norms. But. But didn’t we just celebrate Easter? Didn’t we just proclaim that Christ is Lord? That Christ is risen? Didn’t we just sing our hallelujahs that God’s realm is breaking through the powers of death with the greater power of new life? Aren’t we baptized with water and the Spirit? Isn’t God’s hand as firmly upon us as it was upon Peter and Antoinette and Jackie? My friends, we are Easter people. The resurrection doesn’t offer easy comfort. But it does offer the gift of new life in the face of death. It does offer healing where the wounds of culture and family and self leave us gasping and depressed. The resurrection reminds us again, that despite all appearances to the contrary, the world—and each one of us—is in the hands of a good and loving God. Can I hear an “amen”?! # # # [1] “Come Out of Her My People, Wes Howard-Brook, Sojourners Magazine, March-April 1999.http://www.sojo.net/index.cfm?action=magazine.article&issue=soj9903&article=990322 [2] http://www.distinguishedwomen.com/biographies/black-al.html, Contributed by Danuta Bois, 1997 [3] “The Life and Faith of Jackie Robinson,” George Mitrovich, http://www.goodnewsmag.org/magazine/3MayJune/MJ05mitrovich.htm. "A life is not important except in the impact it has on other lives."-Jackie Robinson |