To make our collective vocation the building and developing of our community in order to restore our people to their traditional greatness.

And in that spirit of Nia; I’d like to share this important article written by Dr. Adam Clark.

CHRISTIANITY AND KWANZAA
By Dr. Adam Clark
(originally posted on The Huffington Post)

It’s strange that the day after Christians celebrate the birth of child who was to become a liberator that they fail to see the liberating possibilities in the week long celebration of Kwanzaa (Dec. 26-Jan. 1.) The infancy narratives in Matthew and Luke portray Jesus as the bearer of concrete longings of a people for freedom from Roman rule. Kwanzaa was created out of the liberation narrative of the 1960s. The longing of African American people for freedom, selfhood and beauty grounds and shapes the vision, values and practices of Kwanzaa. It is derived from African first-fruits harvest celebrations and encourages it’s observers to be thankful for good and beauty of Creation and act for the well-being and wholeness of the world.

Despite its ecumenical character, Kwanzaa remains controversial in black churches. Many popular websites professing to explore the relationship between Christianity and Kwanzaa encourage Christians not to practice Kwanzaa. These websites question the relevance of Kwanzaa to the atoning work of Jesus Christ. Some regard Kwanzaa as a rival “pagan holiday,” “cultic celebration” or as idol worship. Others question the motives of the creator of Kwanzaa, Maulana Karenga, who is cast as an anti-Christian thinker, hostile to the Gospel of Jesus Christ. These religious detractors position themselves as defenders of the faith and see their attacks on Kwanzaa as a way of preserving biblical faith against the unbiblical principles of Kwanzaa.

What’s ironic is that the people who denounce Kwanzaa do not have the same suspicion toward the celebration of Christmas. There is a sharp distinction between the biblical portrayal of Christmas and its contemporary emphases. Christmas Day originated when the church used the stories of the birth of Jesus to place a thin Christian veneer over the Roman holiday celebrating the Winter solstice. The American celebration of Christmas that features Santa Claus as its chief icon, lighted trees, shopping rituals, massive food grabs and spectacular gift giving resemble the festivals of Imperial Rome that honored the might of Caesar more than the humble story of a couple that gave birth to a Christ-child in a manger.

CLICK HERE TO READ FULL ARTICLE

One of the joys of my life currently involves the privilege I have been afforded to mentor incarcerated youth. Twice per week I am blessed to connect with young men who have been charged as adults for various crimes. For me, they truly represent what I like to call “brilliance behind bars.” Though some would like to lock these young brothers into a particular stereotype; I’ve learned from first-hand experience that these young men are some of the most thoughtful, reflective, loyal, and spiritual brothers I’ve ever met.

I speak to them about how being free mentally, spiritually, and emotionally is often a precursor to physical liberation. Indeed, there are many people in our communities who have freedom of movement, but who are prisoners in a larger cell. Slave mentalities, self-destructive behaviors, and unhealthy relationships are the wardens that keep too many of our people in bondage.

My mentees who range from age 14 to 17, are beginning to understand the need to embrace freedom on a higher plain. Toward that end, to help plant that seed even deeper, we are preparing to begin reading The Autobiography of Malcolm X. Brother Malcolm’s story is not just a source of inspiration, but it’s also a testimony of redemption and that’s what my young brothers need. They need to know that despite their current condition and irrespective of the circumstances that brought them to the City Jail, they too can be redeemed. Reading this book together will help cement that truth.

I would like for you to consider donating a book to this effort. For those in the Baltimore City area, you can purchase a book from Everyone’s Place (1356 West North Avenue, Baltimore, MD 21217) and leave it there for me to pick up. The book is $7.99 plus tax. Or you can purchase the book from a vendor of your choice and drop it off or mail it to my church: Pleasant Hope Baptist Church, 430 E. Belvedere Avenue, Baltimore, MD 21212.

Any support you can give will be greatly appreciated and I’ll be sure to provide regular updates on our progress.

Asante Sana (Thank You Very Much)

Rev. Heber Brown, III

“Jim Crow” referred to the laws and social norms that not only gave legitimacy to racism/white supremacy, but openly ensured it by law and statute. Substandard schools, housing, employment opportunities, etc were just some of the outcomes of this apartheid system. It’s a part of the American myth that somewhere after the Voting Rights Act of 1965 that Jim Crow ended. Perhaps the argument could be made that “Jim Crow” died on paper, but in practice it is as alive today – and in some instances more virulent as it has ever been.

This is the claim that Michelle Alexander makes in her book, The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness. 

Serendipitously, I received a free copy this week at an Anne E. Casey Foundation event after a church member recommended it to me last week. I look forward to inhaling this 248-page book in the next week or two and will promptly post a review. (Anybody interested in reading it with me?)

In the meantime, enjoy this video of Michelle Alexander as she speaks more about her book and how the prison industrial complex openly serves the interest of Jim Crow in this “post racial” [insert: sarcasm] America.

And probably most of all, we owe a collective debt of gratitude to Ms. Ella Baker. She was the engine behind so many of the fascinating groups who organized and put their necks on the line fighting U.S. apartheid. Barbara Ransby in her book, Ella Baker & the Black Freedom Movement: A Radical Democratic Vision, paints the picture of a woman who was small in stature, but a giant among women and men.

Ransby, in tremendous detail, introduces the world to Ella Baker in ways that mainstream education wholly ignores. From her well-guarded personal life to her very public organizing, we meet a woman who gave her everything to an awe-inspiring vision of a more just and democratic society. Baker was propelled by what she saw we could be while at the same time giving equal energy to the path that would help us get there. For her the means was just as important as the end and you couldn’t fight for equality in the public sphere and sanction discrimination and ill-treatment behind closed doors. Her willingness to speak up and challenge the “men of the movement” didn’t make her a favorite in certain circles. She had her run-ins with the NAACP, the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, and other groups because she did not go along with the prescribed gender role for women during that day and would not just “stay in her place”.

She created her own place – not in the narrow confines of a “civil rights” activist, but Ransby’s brilliant book reveals Baker as an irreplaceable figure in the larger Black Freedom Movement. While the NAACP and SCLC placed the legislature and judiciary as the preferred target for social change, Baker’s life was dedicated to organizing and empowering “everyday people” to be the change. Ms. Baker believed that the principal issue was bigger than new and different laws in the existing governing structure. She fought for self-determination for the poor and people of color. She didn’t chase after the politicians. She sat on country porches and rode down dusty roads with the people – listening to them articulate, define, and direct where the movement could or should go.

While she could have rightly demanded the spotlight and allowed her oratorical skills to shine, she seemed to prefer the less visible, but immensely critical roles behind the curtain. She helped empower others, drew connections to parallel movements, and practiced the art of asking the right questions. In addition, she mentored and nurtured many who grew to become defining figures in the Human Rights Struggle. As you turn each page, you’ll likely bump into a name you know or a name you need to know and read how Ella Baker touched their lives.

All 374 pages of Ransby’s book are packed with the finer, lesser-known stories and details of this pivotal figure and the movement she helped create. The many awards conferred upon this book is clear evidence of the literary skill of the author and her meticulous research in providing this important biography. Those who read this book – no doubt are better human beings by the time they turn the last page.

I was in my first year of pastoring sitting at a Christian convention meeting at a West Baltimore church. The meeting portion of the mid-day program had just come to an end and the worship experience had just begun. The preacher was introduced and he rose to start out on his sermon for the dwindling faithful few who who had gathered to hear a Word from the Lord.

I was sitting in the rear of the church (a secret treat that many pastor’s enjoy) taking it all in when my cell phone rang. I answered and the voice on the other line said, “Pastor, come quick. One of our members is dying.”

I rushed out into the hall of the church and was told the name of the member who was the center of concern. I rushed out to the parking lot, jumped in my car and began hurriedly making my way through downtown Baltimore during lunch hour traffic to get to the Emergency Room of a hospital in East Baltimore.

While swerving in and out of traffic, I realized that while rushing to the scene, I didn’t know what to do once I arrived. I panicked and instinctively called my father. My Dad has been pastoring for 24 years and the foundational knowledge that I have as it relates to what it means to be a pastor comes from him. Dad picked up his cell and I began telling him the situation that I was rushing to. I didn’t have time to ease into the inquiry or relay my question in a roundabout way so as to maintain the illusion of poise. The question just came out.

“Dad, what do I do?”

He calmly began walking me through step-by-step what I should do while standing at the deathbed of one of the members of the church. Pulling from more than two decades of experience, he instructed and assured me that I was well able to be pastor even in the face of death. Near the end of our conversation, I was screeching into the parking lot of the hospital. We hung up and seeing the Chairman of our Deacon Board standing at the entrance of the Emergency Room, I marched with fragile confidence into the room where the Death Angel was threatening.

I didn’t know what to expect when I walked in. But there she was. Laying on the bed, conscious, in obvious pain. I reached for her hand and she grabbed mine – squeezing with a strength that I did not imagine a dying woman to have. I mumbled and tripped over words of encouragement. To those standing around, I asked the usual, time-filling questions about the diagnosis and the doctors. I looked at the monitors in the room – listening to the beeps of alien machinery and tried with awkward gaze to understand what they meant. I thought I would read some scriptures, but in a strange way scripture didn’t seem adequate for the setting.

(It’s difficult to explain it, but sometimes when I’m face to face with a traumatic experience, the reading of scripture can feel like a hollow exercise.)

So I sat. I held her hand. I spoke with those standing around and I waited. At some point, the prognosis improved and it was clear that though my sister was not out of the woods, death would be delayed until another future time. I called the family into the small room. We gathered in a circle and I led us in a word of prayer.

I left out of the hospital relieved that things went as well as they did, but at the same time deeply aware of my inadequacy and lack of confidence as it relates to ministering to the dying and their grief-stricken family while sojourning together through the valley of the shadow of death.

I’ve made many more hospital visits and officiated many more funerals since then, but still I’m purposing to grow stronger in facing the fact of death for myself and others.

I started reading a book entitled The Art of Dying: Living Fully Into The Life To Come by Rob Moll earlier this year. It has helped me in ways that I could never have imagined from just looking at the simplistic cover. Moll rightly raises the issue that many in America have similar discomfort as it relates to death because death has been moved from our view. We don’t deal with it. We don’t have to. We have professionals who deal with that. We pay people to deal with death. We’ve outsourced the sacred responsibility of serving our loved ones in death. It’s just something that we don’t want to touch. As Moll says, we don’t “live in the light of our mortality, often our busy lives don’t allow this reflection.”

But there was a time when death was closer. I still hear echoes of the old folks telling stories of family and friends who had died – not at the hospital, but at home. I hear my North Carolinian grandfather who was also a Bishop, praying over the church: “Thank you, Lord that last night our resting beds, didn’t become our cooling boards.” I still get invitations to preach at little churches out in “the country” who have regular remembrance of their members and family because the cemetery is out in the back of the church and not across town in a memorial park. I hear of a time when the old folks would go and view the body of the deceased which was on display in the living room of their home – not a funeral home.

But in the 21st century things are not this way. We don’t see death. We don’t touch it. We don’t reflect on it. And Moll says that this has an impact not just on the larger society, but also on the American Church.

I was shocked when I read Moll’s questioning of the church on whether we are “too pro-life”. He cited a study that researched “quality of death” scores. The study revealed that patients who received outside clergy visits had worse quality of death scores compared to those who did not. The research suggested that Christians were more likely to request aggressive treatments for their dying loved ones believing that God might work through it to provide divine healing. In the process of trying all the latest aggressive treatments, opportunities were missed to spend cherished moments with dying loved ones. He said that churches are not teaching people to die well. Instead we (both the church and larger society) are more focused on extending life – with less concern about the quality of life even if it is extended. Moll says, and I now agree – that there comes a time when Christians must “shift their focus from extending life to preparing to die.”

This book introduced me to the term “good death“. I have never in all my years put those two words together. But as he lays out in his book, it makes perfect sense that the church should not only be helping people to live good lives, but Christians have a responsibility as well to teach people how to have a “good death”. He says, “A death that doesn’t afford the opportunity for last words, for reconciliation, for repentance and for spiritual preparation for the next world is not a good death, according to traditional Christian teaching.”

This book not only provides theory and traditional Christian teaching, but it also provides practical advice that all of us – Christian or not – could stand to benefit from. It has helped me on my road to being a better pastor and I am looking to incorporate it into my church…especially the leadership who are often engaged in pastoral care along with me. The study guide questions in the rear of the book make this book a great candidate for any church’s Bible Study program.

But aside from its benefit to the Church, it has helped me personally earlier this year. One of my great-uncles died and I was blessed to be there at the hospital with my family as he was making his transition. As he was slipping away, I was in the waiting room reading this book. In it, I found the support that I was looking for. When we were urgently called back to his room, we stood around my uncle’s bed speaking words of love and appreciation. For the first time in my life, I watched someone die. And though there were many tears, much grief and heartache; I knew that when I saw my uncle take his last labored breath, that I had just seen a good man die a good death.

The Art of Dying by Rob Moll is a gift to us all.

I watched this CNN interview and exchange last night between Tom Horne, Arizone Superintendent of Public Instruction and Dr. Michael Eric Dyson, professor and social critic. The issue was Arizona’s new ban on ethnic studies. Apparently, Arizona’s public school system was worried about non-white children being taught their history. According to Mr. Horne, as the non-white children began gaining “knowledge of self”; they began to exhibit behaviors and gravitate toward perspectives that were threatening to the power structure. During the interview he showed a picture of high school students from Arizona in fatigues and disciplined formation to underscore his point. He also shared that one of the La Raza classes was leading Chicano high school students in reading Pedagogy of the Oppressed by Paulo Freire – one of the 45 books that changed my life. Instead of the “banking concept” of education where students are engaged as empty vessels that need to be poured into; Freire champions a problem-posing concept of education as an instrument of liberation. Consider this quote about problem-posing education from Freire’s book:

Students, as they are increasingly posed with problems relating to themselves in the world and with the world, will feel increasingly challenged and obliged to respond to that challenge. Because they apprehend the challenge as interrelated to other problems within a total context, not as a theoretical question, the resulting comprehension tends to be increasingly critical and thus constantly less alienated….Education as the practice of freedom – as opposed to education as the practice of domination – denies that man is abstract, isolated, independent, and unattached to the world; it also denies that the world exists as a reality apart from people. – (page 81)

The Arizona Public School System, like the Texas Education Board before it, decided that it needed to exert it’s authority, ban the teaching of history from a non-White perspective and force students back into the “main” path of educational social conditioning complete with its emphasis on the individuality of a person. (One of the features of Western doctrine rightly outlined in Light from Ancient Africa by Dr. Naim Akbar.)

However, we must fight the temptation to believe that the question of educational authority is a unique problem of the West or the Deep South. My experiences with the Baltimore City Public School System and analysis of other majority African American cities in the North; suggests that this is a systemic problem across the board of the American Public School System. Then, it’s no wonder that our major urban cities are hampered on every side with social challenges. Many would suggest that our current public school systems are designed to maintain the status quo, not inspire the minds of youth to challenge it.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Recently, I finished reading The Next Evangelicalism: Freeing the Church from Western Cultural Captivity by Soong-Chan Rah. Rah, a fellow Baltimorean by way of Korea, provides a truly thoughtful and passionate critique of the current landscape of American Christianity.

The foundation of the book’s argument is not rooted in theology, but actually finds it grounding in demography. Rah reminds us of the shifting ethnic realities of our world by sharing that “by 2050, African, Asian and Latin American Christians will constitute 71 percent of the world’s Christian population. These numbers do not account for the fact that a majority of Christians in North American will be nonwhite. Global Christianity is clearly nonwhite.”

After exploring different sides of this coming (and already here) ethnic shift, Rah spends the rest of the book critiquing the existing expressions of Christianity in the West which all too often come solely through a Western, White lens. This is not to suggest that Western, White Christians shouldn’t be a part of the conversation about Christianity’s place in the world today, but if most of the world’s Christians are already non-White, why is it that White Christians still are largely the ones that lead the conversation, set the agenda, define the terms, fill the expert panels, decide “appropriate” interpretations of doctrine, and receive the majority of the resources to do the work of ministry? [Especially when many White Churches, according to the author, are in significant decline!]

Rah courageously raises different iterations of this question throughout the book while also introducing non-White people, ministries, and perspectives to readers who might be unfamiliar. For instance, he talks about the importance of the African American Church and the lessons that White Evangelicalism can learn from it. He talks about the Korean American church, its ministry of immigrant adjustment and much like the Black Church – its important work as an agent of cultural preservation.

At some points very professorial and other points pastoral, Rah keeps fair balance between the two throughout the book, however, it is clear that Rah is a seminary professor. And some places in the book, I felt that the author, in his attempt to deal decisively and yet delicately with his subject matter, took too long to get to his point. For example, at one place in his chapter on the character of suffering and celebration in the African American and Native American communities, I actually felt he was a bit longwinded, but that could have been because of my desire to hear his final analysis on a topic that is familiar to me.

Though at times exceedingly delicate, Rah doesn’t hold any punches – even providing a strong challenge to the Emerging and Emergent Christian communities. In fact, he devotes an entire chapter to the Emerging Church’s captivity to Western, White Culture. He confesses that he finds the term “emerging church” to be offensive saying that the real emerging churches are the Asian American churches, the Hip Hop churches, the Spanish-speaking storefront church, etc. In his view, a small group of White Christians coming together and usurping the term “emerging” to describe their community reflects “significant arrogance”.

I’ve shared before my feelings on the Emerging Church (even before I read Mr. Rah’s book) and I have to agree with his challenge. The speakers, authors, “experts”, recognized leaders, and celebrated practitioners are all too often White folks. Not too pick on any groups, but just for the sake of observation look at the lineup for this upcoming Missional conference in Washington, DC. Notice anything? The majority of the speakers are White. Look at the Advisory Board and Staff of this new group called The Beatitudes Society, which claims to be a progressive Christian network for justice, compassion, and peace. Again, White folks galore. I could go on, but you get the point. Far too often Christians who embrace progressive or liberal categorizations speak an inclusive language while propping up the same old oppressive and exclusive structures that Non-White Peoples are all too familiar with.

(For more on the Emerging Church’s mono-ethnic challenges, be sure to pick up the May 2010 edition of Sojourners Magazine which features an article by Rah and Jason Mach entitled, “Is the Emerging Church for Whites Only?” with [WEAK!!] responses by Julie Clawson, Brian McLaren, and Debbie Blue)

The Next Evangelicalism: Freeing the Church from Western Cultural Captivity by Soong-Chan Rah is not so much a solutions book as it is a provocative expose’ of what is. Wisely sidestepping the temptation to give five or ten steps to “thee answer” – a move that has become so common and often expected in western culture; the author points in the general direction of how to address the sickness of Western, White cultural addiction in Christianity, but leaves it to the reader to wrestle with what to do next.

I HIGHLY recommend The Next Evangelicalism: Freeing the Church from Western Cultural Captivity to pastors, professors, lay people, Christian Educators, and all people who are interested in beginning to explore the realities of Christianity’s captivity to Western, White culture and those who dare dream of what Christianity can look like once it becomes free from the cultural addictions of Western, White America.

One of my new gigs this year is that I’m a book reviewer for InterVarsity Press. Thanks to this blog, someone from the publishing company contacted me and wondered if I would be interested in reading and writing reviews of their publications. Of course, I jumped at the opportunity. I LOVE books! I understand that new technology is making ebook readers popular (like Kindle and Nook); but I doubt that I’ll ever leave traditional books. There is something about feeling the pages, making markings in paragraphs, and yes even the smell of a good book that does something to me. (FYI – The best smelling books can be found at Everyone’s Place in Baltimore City, MD)

So this new gig doesn’t pay me in dollars and cents, but in something better – BOOKS! Free books for the asking. All I have to do is read them and write what I think about them. Can’t beat that.

The FedEx guy just dropped off my latest set of books and I’m looking forward to jumping into them. I really tried to focus on books that would expand my thinking and challenge me to engage topics critically. Here they are:

1. Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes by Kenneth E. Bailey
2. Love Is an Orientation: Elevating the Conversation with the Gay Community by Andrew Marin
3. The Next Evangelicalism: Freeing the Church from Western Cultural Captivity by Soong-Chan Rah
4. The Prophet & The Messiah: An Arab Christian’s Perspective on Islam & Christianity by Chawkat Moucarry
5. Warrior Princess: Fighting for Life with Courage & Hope by Princess Kasune Zulu

Each of these books will challenge me in a different way and I’m looking forward to being in “conversation” with the author. I’ll probably start with one of the books this week (probably the piece by Soong-Chan Rah) and will be done in 2 weeks. Review to follow. If anyone has any of these books and would like to read “together” let me know. I’m down for a virtual book club.

I remember coming right out of college and getting a research assistant job at Johns Hopkins Hospital. I was working in a department with other recent 22-year-old college graduates. One day during a break from work, the young African American employees began to discuss our observations related to racial dynamics at Hopkins and how they impacted our work in the community. (We were working on a project that connected us to a local middle school.) It was a totally uncensored conversation in which we expressed our frustration with the decisions being made by our supervisors who were all White. Some of them gave the impression that because they had advanced degrees and official titles that they knew better about how to engage African American youth than we did – despite the fact that we were African American! That day our frustration boiled over and we vented amongst ourselves. One of our co-workers – a senior African American woman overheard us talking, rushed over and in fearful whisper placed her finger over her lips and said, “You all have to keep it down. You don’t want other folks to hear what you are saying.” It was understood that by “other folks” she meant White people.

Since our forced arrival to these shores in the early 17th century, Africans in America have had a strong inclination to watch our words, be careful of our actions, and dismiss any behavior that could be deemed threatening to the White Power Structure for to do otherwise could mean the loss of your job, your land, your family, or even your life. It’s been a tactic of survival for many Africans in America back during slavery and even today to find creative ways to live with some measure of dignity under the dehumanizing boot of White Privilege and the White Power Structure.

Consequently, it is a feature of reality in Baltimore for many African Americans that despite the fact that the demographics of the city call us the majority, in the realm of the power structure we are still very much so a minority. The vast majority of the city’s decision makers, funders, foundation heads and political powerbrokers are White.

Even in the so-called “progressive community” – if you are a person of color who desires funding for some community project that is your passion, you will most likely have to ultimately convince a White person that it’s worth funding. Some time ago I attended a mandatory orientation for a community fellowship program to learn more about what it would take to fund some of the things that I do and have been doing for some time now to address pressing public health issues in African American communities. I arrived to the orientation to find out that many of the persons present who were vying for the same fellowship were my African American colleagues, fellow organizers, and community leaders who were also doing remarkable work in the community. The fellowship application process would have pitted us against each other in pursuit of the same pot of money. I walked out refusing to apply to that Fellowship not because I didn’t think I had a chance, but because I knew that if that Foundation really wanted to they could have funded all of us who were “on the ground” and in the neighborhoods already doing the work that the Foundation claimed was its mission. This is just one dynamic of White privilege and Power that you’ll read about in the necessarily controversial book, The Revolution Will Not Be Funded: Beyond The Non-Profit Industrial Complex.

If we are to locate some degree of harmonious co-existence in Baltimore between Black and White communities we must have our own “Greensboro, North Carolina-styled Truth & Reconciliation Commission.” And given that many White people are unable to face or be objective about their place of privilege in society and its residual poison; it’s up to Baltimore’s People of Color to LEAD the effort of defining the nature of reconciliation and determining the best way to get there.

Miguel A. De La Torre makes an important observation in his book Liberating Jonah: Forming An Ethics of Reconciliation. He says, “All too often, discussions about reconciliation originate with the group that the present culture happens to benefit – what can WE do? – and the discussion is manipulated so as to continue benefiting the privileged. He makes the assertion that “any hope for reconciliation must rest with those living on the underside of society.”

A Greensboro or South African-styled Truth Commission for Baltimore (an idea born from Civil Rights Attorney, Sherrilyn Ifill’s remarkable book, On The Courthouse Lawn: Confronting The Legacy of Lynching in the 21st Century) would give People of Color the opportunity to officially tell White people the truth in love…for their sake and for ours. I agree with Torre as he echoes the sentiments of James H. Cone, long regarded as the Father of Black Liberation Theology, by saying, “…the disenfranchised can define and forge a reconciliation that can lead to their own liberation and salvation, as well as the salvation and liberation of those who benefit from the present structures of domination.” (This point is expressed in God of the Oppressed and Black Theology & Back Power by Cone.) God continues to be on the side of the oppressed clearing the path for liberation for the world’s People of Color and then God chooses to use the formerly marginalized to lead the oppressors and the privileged to freedom as well – as the final act of a real and substantive racial reconciliation.

As I’ve mentioned in a previous post, one of the books I’m reading these days is entitled Everyday Justice: The Global Impact of our Daily Choices by Julie Clawson. It’s a book that has sensitized me to how some of my lifestyle choices – as innocent as they seem – have an adverse impact on the environment. I’m rapidly evolving into a conscientious consumer who desires simple living within the framework of my Faith. Reading these types of books have really opened my eyes to how much my Bible talks about the earth and its inhabitants as the handiwork of The Creator.

Without thought I used to read about Adam & Eve in the GARDEN of Eden, Jesus in the GARDEN of Gethsemane, and the dictate from The Divine to let the land rest during years of Jubilee. Reading the scriptures with new eyes opened my eyes to God’s apparent concern not just for humanity, but for creation. Which got me to thinking that if God cares so much about creation, then God probably also wants us to be good stewards and caretakers of it. Usually in my church tradition, the term stewardship is only brought up when talking about money (and is usually tied to a fundraising campaign or a push for tithe participation). But what would it mean to be a good steward of creation? If there is agreement among people of Faith with the words of the Psalmist that the earth is the LORD’S and the fullness thereof, the WORLD and all of its inhabitants are God’s handiwork; then how should we govern ourselves in light of that? Should we just trash creation or live an unexamined life with no thought to our impact on the world (and much less thought about future generations who will inherit the earth)? Most people would say no. That’s why people from all over the world have landed in Denmark to attend the United Nations Climate Change Conference. Because people know that this matters. That’s why the Environmental Protection Agency made the historic declaration today that global warming from manmade greenhouse gases endangers American’s health. Because they know this stuff matters. (Ok, that was political maneuvering too, but stay with me!)

I believe that most people would say “no, we can’t just trash the earth.” But most people aside for a moment…and probably more important than “most people” – I say “no.” I’ve made the decision to take steps toward simplifying my life so I don’t contribute as much to the trashing of the earth. Within the framework of my Faith, I wish to be a good steward of the resources that The Almighty allows me to borrow and/or care for during the short time that I’m here.

One of the ways that I’m doing this is pretty simple – we’ve made the decision in my household to discontinue purchasing and using paper plates and plastic utensils.

What? You were waiting for something else? Nope. Just passing on paper plates and plastic utensils.

Single-use disposable products like paper plates and plastic forks pile up fast in landfills and create tons of waste that pollute the earth, the water, and the air in our communities. This fact is particularly poignant for me as an African American when I read statements like the one made at the 2007 National Conference of Black Mayors which suggests the shocking finding that 2,800 of the nation’s 3,000 landfills are located in African American communities! This is outrageous! (Find more related information about environmental justice in communities of color at the Environmental Justice Resource Center at Clark Atlanta University.)

I refuse to continue participating in the systemic pollution and poisoning of our nation’s Black communities just because I want the convenience of a plastic fork and paper plate.

With the support of my wife and family, we’ve made the decision: no more paper plates and plastic utensils. We have all these dishes in the cabinets. All this nice silverware. All these great mugs and cups just sitting in the cabinet being passed over for the 50-pack of paper plates on the shelf at the market. No more.

All these years, my parents and eventually my wife have been trying to get me to help out in the kitchen and begrudgingly I would do so, but now – I’m on it. Call me Mr. Clean! I’ve been busting suds for the past couple of weeks and have begun to actually like the feeling of washing dishes. I know that sounds crazy, but I just needed the right motivation. (Not saying that my wife asking me to do it wasn’t it enough, but you know…:) Now I’m motivated by the fact that I’m being a better steward of God’s creation and participating in a hands-on approach to fighting environmental racism at the same time.

Besides, this decision also saves us money. My wife estimates that on average we spend $12.00 a month on paper products. That’s at least $144.00 a year largely on things we use 1 time and then toss in the trash. And now that’s $144.00 that stays in our pockets. This decision is right by my Faith, my politics, my People, and my wallet!

I know it’s one small step, but for me it’s a pretty big one. I’ve been dodging dirty dishes since I was a teenager. But now I’ve developed a desire to be a good steward and conscientious consumer who is determined to take simple steps toward simple living. I’ll be posting more about my journey to simple living in the days ahead. I’d be interested in hearing your related stories as well.