Reflection  Who Am I?  A Dying Man’s Question

  Not long after you and I got married nearly three years ago, I introduced the monthly theme concept[…]

Remembering Those Who Have Gone Before Us in 2025

  Some would say our country needs inspiration and transformation, given the dark political climate currently affecting humanitarian and[…]

Reflections

 

Some would say our country needs inspiration and transformation, given the dark political climate currently affecting humanitarian and environmental efforts.

While this is true, we, as people of faith, know that light always accompanies darkness, and today our gathering celebrates light…

…the light of individuals whose lives shone for the good so much that they leave us with their inspiration to carry forth the torch.

There are a myriad of standout people whose earthly lives ended this past year – some of whose names you will hear.

If our interest was on romance, we’d listen to Alan Bergman’s song “The Way We Were” and think of Robert Redford.

If we were business-minded, we’d explore the life of FedEx founder Fred Smith.

But our attention isn’t on that type of business.  While Giorgio Armani concentrated on external beauty, our business will be the beauty of the soul.

Although some of these names and faces will not be as familiar because their contributions weren’t widely known in pop culture, we’ll start with one that was.

Rob Reiner – Although we know Rob mostly through his acting and directing of films, also noteworthy is his tireless work for humanitarian causes, including early-childhood development and support of gay marriage.  One of our ‘Dinner and a Movie’ nights included his documentary “God and Country” about the impact Christian Nationalism is having on our country’s democracy.

There are lines, and even singular words, made iconic through his body of work.   Let’s play a little game.  I’m going to give you a line or word from one of his projects and if you know what it’s from, just call out the title.

-My name is Indigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die. [Princess Bride] – I’ll have what she’s having.   [When Harry Met Sally] – You can’t handle the truth. [A Few Good Men] – Meathead. [All in the Family] – Inconceivable.  [Princess Bride]

Inconceivable, indeed.

Rob Reiner’s films reflected his heart.

He once said, “I make movies about people who live on Earth. Nobody gets exploded. Nobody’s running around chasing anything. Basically, they’re people in rooms talking.”

This man knew about the human experience, about connection, and his art reflected it.

In an industry whose headquarters is aptly nicknamed Tinseltown, Rob Reiner – who once said People can be ignorant and still have loving, human qualities – was a beautiful blending of creativity with connection, kindness and courage.

While he made films about people in rooms talking, our next person studies what it is that they say.                                            Specifically, what it is that women say.

Robin Lakoff – Robin Lakoff was a linguist who analyzed the unique ways women speak and argued that those uses of language enforce the power imbalance between men and women.

Her work inspired an entire academic field of language and gender.

She maintained that we women are brought up to speak in ways that support acceptance of a secondary role.

You might wonder how, and want some examples, which I happen to have for you.

Lakoff maintained that women tend to do the following:

– use empty and trivializing adjectives like “adorable” and “lovely

– add ‘tag questions’ to end sentences – “John is here, isn’t he?” which conveys hesitancy.

– use overly polite phrases… “Please close the door, if you don’t mind,” which communicates submissiveness.

Lakoff also observed that women are less likely to tell jokes than men, less likely use profanity,

more likely to use hyper-correct grammar,

and to “speak in italics” — that is, stressing words, overcompensating out of concern that they’re not being listened to.

Injustice takes many forms, and is perpetuated until we are perceptive and courageous enough to examine it, and then name what drives it. Robin Lakoff’s life’s work did this by looking underneath cultural mores regarding the marginalization of women.

Our next person’s work addressed the marginalization of those with physical disabilities.

Nabil Shabana British actor and playwright, who, born without the use of his legs, used his talents to foster deeper understanding.

He wrote a play called “The First To Go” about the Nazis’ campaign against people with disabilities, and films, such as “The Skin Horse” about the sexual and emotional lives of disabled people.

Nabil once said, “My generation of the disabled were brainwashed into believing that we were worthless.  Somehow I avoided believing that lie. I remember thinking, I’ve only got one life, so I’ve got to make it as pleasurable as possible.”

“I would find it boring to always be playing the reality of being disabled.’ I have to do that 24/7. The reason most people become actors is to escape their condition, to be someone else.  Disabled actors should have access to the same opportunities as non-disabled actors.”

Amen.  And I’m thankful for these reminders about inclusion that wouldn’t otherwise appear on my landscape except through activists such as this man.

The same can be said for our next person, although his contributions didn’t come on stage or screen, but instead through the lens of his camera.

Salgado – was a Brazilian photographer whose work was known to convey two basic human elements…pain and dignity.

Through his photographs he strove to ease the world’s pain while exposing domination.   One sees this in his images of burning oil fields in Kuwait, parched earth in Africa, and refugees.   And a famous photo entitled Refugee from Gondan.

His photos, often shocking, poignantly reflect dignity and respect, fostering awareness and questions regarding the forces and stories behind the pictures.

The fighting of wars and causing of climate change; laborers toiling under deadly conditions; environmental depletion and extreme weather events were all subjects of his photographic stories.

Someone once described Salgado’s images as “…seemingly torn from the pages of the Old Testament, while actually portraits of the human condition in the twentieth century, symbols of our one world, which is not a First or a Third World. From their mighty silence, these images question the hypocrisy that safeguard the traditional order and protect its power.”

Through the silent voice of his camera, the phrase “Truth to power” comes to mind.

Jaune Quick-to-See Smith was an artist whose fearless artwork brought the complexity of contemporary Indigenous experience into focus.

She once said, “Part of what I do is using my work as a platform for my beliefs.  Can I tell a good story?  Can I get your attention? Those are all things that I try to do with my artwork.”

She accomplished this by evoking tension, a sense of trauma, violence or loss.

An example of this is “Gifts for Trading Land With White People”, which a 14-foot-long painting on which a simple canoe is drawn over a collage of newspaper photographs of Native Americans; over it, Ms. Smith hung a clothesline of sports gear, chewing-tobacco packets and other items depicting Native American stereotypes.

While this crusader focused on indigenous issues, the next one, Joan Campbell, pioneered civil rights concerns with none other than Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Joan Campbell -When Joan invited the Dr. King to speak at her all-white church in the Cleveland suburbs in 1965, she had no idea what furor would erupt.

Bomb threats were made to her family’s home where she was a full-time wife and mother. Some members of her church refused to let Dr. King cross its threshold.

“He finally did speak there, but he spoke outside, on the steps of the church, and there were at least 3,000 people there to hear him, and that would have never been true had it been inside the church.”

Little did she know how this event would begin to form her legacy.

Ms. Campbell then became a minister and went on to be the first woman to lead the National Council of Churches, the top ecumenical position in the country, representing 32 denominations.

What’s significant about this is, during her decade of leadership she worked to counterbalance the conservative Christian Coalition influence over the Republican Party, which had begun in the 1980s.

About this she said, “Our concern is that the radical right lays claim to the fact that they uniquely speak for people of faith in this country, in essence that ‘God is on our side.’ We must come together as an interfaith group and say to this country that there is an alternate religious voice.”

Sound at all relevant to the current times, some 40 years later? Ah, the voice of prophecy.  In honor of Black History Month, the remainder of our exploration will honor civil rights activists.

Hazel Dukes – Hazel N. Dukes was an early and unwavering crusader for civil rights, serving for nearly a half-century. Ms. Dukes was the second woman to lead the NAACP.

Former Gov. David Paterson described her as “omnipresent, someone who when she came into a room you knew she was there and didn’t leave until her agenda was accomplished.”

Her legacy, he added, “was that she didn’t see any boundaries that she couldn’t cross if she thought it was necessary to correct an unfair situation.”

The fortitude of such a women gives us example, especially these days…allowing no perceived boundary to prohibit the correction of injustice.

Prophetic presence again in our midst, in life, and now in legacy.

The last person we’ll hear about isn’t remembered so much for her achievements as for what she was witness to in our nation’s history… a page that has been attempted to be torn out of our nation’s history book and forgotten.

Viola Fletcher

Here’s the story Viola Fletcher – the oldest known survivor of the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre. Early on the morning of June 1, 1921, Viola, a 6-year-old, woke up to a banging sound. She thought it was someone beating a rug, she said, until her mother hollered for her to get out of bed, immediately.

The day before, word had spread in Tulsa that a 19-year-old Black shoe shiner, Dick Rowland, had attempted to rape a 17-year-old white elevator operator, Sarah Page, in the building where she worked.

Ms. Page later denied that Mr. Rowland had done anything wrong, and the case was dropped. But by then, inflamed by the rumors, many of Tulsa’s white citizens were already set on imposing their own idea of justice.

Hundreds of heavily armed white men gathered outside the courthouse where Mr. Rowland was being held. Soon, armed Black veterans of World War I arrived as well, seeking to prevent a lynching.

A scuffle ensued, and a shot was fired. The next morning, the assault began.

Over 16 hours, nearly three dozen blocks in Greenwood, an area of Tulsa predominately populated by black people, were looted and set ablaze. More than 1,000 homes were destroyed, as were almost all of the district’s Black-owned businesses: theaters, restaurants, hotels, barbershops and the offices of doctors and lawyers and real estate brokers.

It was determined that nearly the entire neighborhood population had become homeless, with up to 300 people killed.

Viola’s family fled in a horse and buggy. As they were leaving Tulsa, she recalled, she saw ash falling on the streets, reminding her of snow. She also saw an airplane dropping what looked like firebombs. She passed piles of corpses.

No one was held legally responsible for the destruction and deaths.

In the years to come, the Tulsa massacre has not been widely taught in American history classes. In Tulsa itself, memory was suppressed. Police records vanished, newspaper archives were tampered with, and victims were buried in unmarked graves.

But its 100th anniversary, in 2021, brought it renewed attention, coming a year after the murder of George Floyd.

Speaking of the 100th anniversary, Viola passed away last year at age 111.

Let Viola’s story be a reminder, embedded in our minds and hearts, about the importance of telling the stories, and continuing the work of racial justice.

_-_-_

Each week in our gatherings we profess in our covenant statement that the purpose of our congregation is to continue the healing work that Jesus did in his lifetime.

These people, many of whom did not identify as Christian, knew about the healing of which we speak…knew about love, cared about justice, and lived the lives we aspire to, as heard in our covenant.

As we journey through the season of Lent, abstinence and giving things up is a central theme.

I would say it’s not only about giving up, but it’s also about making room, cultivating humility to look beyond ourselves.

Today, may the stories of these people inspire us to look toward their example in order for our own paths to be enriched.

If there is someone whose light was extinguished last year, and whose life achievements inspired you, please consider sharing those inspirations now.

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