Dearly Beloved,
This week, one of the items in my email inbox that I did actually open was an email from a pastor I've long looked up to: the Rev. Sandhya Rani Jha, an alum of the Disciples Divinity House at the University of Chicago (where I did my seminary training). Jha spends the email remembering their mentor, the late Rev. Phil Lawson. Jha reflects on Lawson's faithfulness, his courage, his ability to meet people in the middle while still maintaining his own integrity, and his ability to hold the big picture in the midst of particular failures and successes. Each of these reflections feels timely in ways that perhaps I can't quite articulate. I share Jha's reflections in the hopes that you will find hope and inspiration in them as I have. May Rev. Lawson's witness embolden us to live our faith -- not just in the comfort and safety of our homes, but in the places where it matters, in the places where it involves risk and is even potentially dangerous. May his witness inspire us to never give up and to seek to live and act with integrity in order to tend God's beloved community and to usher in God's realm.
With love and peace,
Thandiwe
Sandhya Rani Jha writes:
At one point in his career, Rev. Lawson had earned the credibility to negotiate between the Black Panthers and the police during his ministry in Kansas City. He never compromised his values, and also living with integrity and consistency allowed him to play a critical role in keeping people safe during a period of such heightened and understandable distrust. I know some of us will need to play this type of role, and doing so without falling into the trap of propping up existing systems of injustice is SO difficult.
When we would lose a campaign for a local housing policy, Rev. Phil would remind us “it was never about just this policy. It’s not even about housing in general. It’s about creating Beloved Community. This was just one tool to move towards that.” And when we won a campaign, he’d say basically the same thing. I think we all know that in the short term, we will face a lot of losses. Already that is coming at a real and tangible cost to some of us and/or people we love. That matters. And also sometimes we forget that a specific campaign win isn’t the real goal. We need to hold onto the bigger vision for the world we want. In the process, we might actually find a different path to realizing that vision.
I remember talking with him one time about the civil rights movement and he quickly stopped me and said “We called it the US Freedom movement, because we were fighting not just for our rights but for the soul of our country.” (I noticed that at Congressman John Lewis’s memorial service, Rev Phil’s brother Rev James Lawson used the same phrase, “the US Freedom movement” during his eulogy, which is worth listening to again today if you have the time.)
I remember talking many years ago with a friend of mine who had been a key leader in the fight for LGBT+ rights all the way back to the sixties, whom I knew through our shared justice work in the church. I mentioned what a great ally for LGBTQ+ rights Rev. Phil was. My friend (now also a movement ancestor) said, “that wasn’t always the case.” He had been one of Rev. Phil’s conversation partners who helped move him and others that I had only ever known as powerful faith leaders for LGBTQ+ inclusion. And he shared that it had been a painful personal loss that ultimately moved him. I think about what it means for someone to model for the rest of us getting things wrong and evolving. I think about that because there are a lot of people I hope to see evolve from where they are right now, and because I am not always great at naming that there are plenty of issues where I had to evolve. That’s a muscle I need to develop.
Rev. Jha concludes: There are a lot more stories I’m holding right now, but I want to end with the fact that him passing at this moment has me thinking a lot about his bravery about standing for justice. He risked his safety. He risked being kicked out of the church. He risked being considered a traitor. He lived out his values at a time when to do so was dangerous. He didn’t do so casually or cavalierly. As part of the Fellowship of Reconciliation, he was part of a group that was as strategic as it was (and is) dedicated to its principles. And he took on that risk regularly. I’m considering seriously which strategic and principled organization to embed myself in to bolster my courage and to not hide from living out my values at this moment where it feels like the risk will grow.
