“Guns are not legal in the United States and its territories.”
These are the only words from political leaders that will make a difference for the American addiction to guns.
This country has incredible problems with addiction in general, but the most lethal addiction, which fuels not only our sick gun culture but the opioid crisis, the debt crisis, White nationalism, racism, xenophobia, sexism, sexualism and our entire capitalism based economy is the American addiction to fear. It began with the European colonial fear of indigenous people and infected every aspect of life here from that point forward. Fear is the origin of America’s original sins.
The moral correction that must take place must be a total cultural reorientation to fear. Faith leaders have a role to play here, but too often we are the problem, providing a veil of moral justification to some of the worst fears in our society. The real leaders are young people, born into a global, multi-cultural tiny/vast world where their most distant neighbor is only a few clicks or swipes of technology away. And who, because of their proximity and immersion in a diverse world, recognize the sickness of irrational unfounded fear and are demanding change. We must listen. We don’t speak this language…we need young people as interpreters in order to understand. We must hand over the reigns, because clearly, we, the establishment, are not doing anything right.
A gun is not a substitute for impotence
It is not a surrogate for masculinity.
A gun is not a tool to stand your ground
It is not self-defense.
A gun is a gun.
A gun is not a metaphor, It is not an algorithm There is nothing conceptual about a gun. A gun is a gun.
A gun is not a political position
It is not an amendment
Nor is a gun the Constitution.
A gun is not a platform
Nor is it a reason to be in office.
A gun is a gun.
A gun is not a theory It is not a thought project There is nothing that thinks in a gun. A gun is a gun.
A gun is not an identity
It is not a personality
A gun is not capable of love.
A gun has no emotion
A gun carries no guilt.
A gun is a gun.
A gun is made to do one thing
A gun kills.
A gun is death.
A gun is made to kill when connected
To a human mind and a human heart.
A gun has no chance to carry out its mission
Without living human flesh attached.
A gun comes alive in the hands of people
So that it can take life from the very same.
It is in our power to control everything about a gun, Including the very existence of guns. We are in charge, not guns. A gun is a gun.
People make guns,
People sell guns,
People profit from guns,
People use guns.
People don’t make guns lethal,
Guns make people lethal.
People without guns
Can’t use guns to kill
Or profit from death.
Why do we give guns a chance?
There is nothing noble or patriotic
Or justifiable or lucky about what a gun does.
A gun kills.
Why does the “American Dream”
Have to include the nightmare capacity to kill?
A gun is a gun.
A gun kills.
A gun can only kill,
As long as we give guns a chance.
Note of acknowledgement: I am incredibly grateful for the academic and collegial relationships that have allowed me to develop a deeper understanding of my Unitarian Universalist faith. In particular, I would like to offer my thanks to Dr. Sofia Betancourt and Dr. Elias Ortega who have both been integral parts of my development and growth in ministry and scholarship and who are already leading Unitarian Universalist theology into new and exciting understandings.
I identify religiously as a Unitarian Universalist. I am also black. These two identities often sit in conflict. I am also gay. Anyone who has read this blog knows all of these things about me. Its worth noting that I was once publicly challenged by Michael Eric Dyson for choosing the predominantly white spiritual space of Unitarian Universalism that affirmed my identity as a gay man over spiritual spaces that affirmed my blackness and left my sexuality on the sidelines. I’m not alone in making this choice. A significant portion of black UUs leave their spiritual homes (AME, Pentecostal, COGIC, Catholic) to find the freedom to publicly have the partners of their choices and live in the physical expressions that are most resonant to them.
Contrary to what Dr. Dyson and others may believe, and despite there being some LGBTQ affirming black religious spaces, it is not an easy choice. The black church is deeply ingrained in who we are as African Americans. In fact, I originally started this piece with a deep dive into the why and wherefore of my own journey away from the black church as a spiritual home, that also explained how I maintain a strong affiliation with what it means to me at my core as a black American. But I decided in the end that for the purposes of this piece which is aimed specifically at a black Unitarian Universalist audience, it is more useful for me to look forward even if many of us do look back with great affection and winsome sentiment and a certain sense of loss.
My purpose in writing this essay is because it is increasingly necessary for black UUs and specifically black UU faith leaders to put theological stakes in the ground. With all due respect, it is not enough for us to be satisfied with a retrofit of the Seven Principles or to spend the bulk of our time and emotional energy “dismantling white supremacy” even though these endeavors are crucial. Nor is it truly productive for us to repurpose the work of dead white scholars who had no interest in speaking to black audiences and sometimes even stated their belief that blacks didn’t have the intellect for “liberal religion.” Black thought outside of Unitarian Universalism is vast, rich and important and not at all limited to responding to whiteness. I believe that black thought inside of Unitarian Universalism must be just as robust, groundbreaking and public.
Black UUs are hungry for a more solid framework within the broader vagaries of Unitarian Universalism. What I want to lay out are a few of the basic goals that I see as being necessary to serve black UUs.
A-Colonial – First, any uniquely black UU theological framework must be a total repudiation of the colonial project. The oppression of black people within the European colonial industry is global and continues to be one of the most devastating oppressions in human history. Colonialism placed a socio-political value on blackness as the measure for the opposite of “good”, “productive”, “intelligent”, “beautiful”, “desirable”, “welcome” and more. Blackness was defined as the absolute negative of Western culture and in doing so, European colonizers created a framework that changed the world giving us everything from the total violence of the n-word to modern capitalism. We do not deserve to be bound to this.
African Origins – Next, a black UU theological framework must affirm that the immediate connection to the African diaspora (what we call blackness), precludes, predates and is totally independent of the violence of colonial frameworks. Blackness must know its origin story. People of and connected to the African continent and cultures were not created by racism; they were not “discovered”; they were not “civilized”. The culture of African peoples, much of which has been erased, ignored and made inaccessible by European history is literally as old as humanity. The rickety cart of white supremacy cannot be put before the gleaming thoroughbred horse of people of African descent.
Contextualized Christianity – Next, a black UU theology must have a relationship with the gravity of how African people across the globe have been colonized by and indoctrinated into European religion; first as a tool of oppression and then as an essential and profound tool for survival. The painful and deeply challenging question that any post-colonial black theological framework must ask is “how well are black people served by worshiping gods created in the context of colonialism?” This is not to erase the sustaining and life-giving influence that black church communities have provided black people. Nor is it to disparage anyone’s belief in a Judeo-Christian God or the saving power of Jesus. Rather, this question is to explore how can all expressions of black faith (whether they be Abrahamic or indigenous, theistic or atheistic) move outside of the context of anti-black oppression, find and cultivate their own generative power, and thrive in a way that has nothing whatsoever to do with responding to whiteness.
Full Humanity – Finally, a black UU theology must on its most basic level begin with a commitment to banishing the concept of the “other”. In that blackness in the European colonial project is the ultimate “other”, the pretext of total invitation to humanity must be foundational. This is with regard to all forms of embodiment, gender and sexual expression, ability, social location, culture, ethnicity, etc. Here is the invitation and commitment to the totality of humanity as part of the embodied world. It doesn’t excuse violence, ignore bigotry, avoid sexism, or apologize for oppression. It simply acknowledges shared humanness as the most important starting point. This is theology that requires us to not so much rise above our differences as to rise through them.
These four core elements (a-colonialism, African origins, contextualized Christianity, full humanity) sit at the heart of a theological framework that I will call Liberation Universalism. Considering the complex legacies of both these words, I will attempt to offer some enlightenment as to how I am using both “liberation” and “universalism”:
Liberation – This is liberation that is not an act of resistance or defiance; it is not a response. Instead, this is a liberation that is inherently born into human being. It is a liberation that is not so much fought for and won but revealed, reclaimed and reaffirmed. It is liberation that has and will always been within. It is the assumption of liberation as an initial state of being.
Universalism – Rather than being an homage to ideas about “salvation”, this universalism is a beginning. It is a universalism that seeks to begin with the fullness and wholeness of all humanity. It is universalism that begins with the assumption of the full spectrum of human being rather than trying to figure out how to include what it didn’t think was worthy or didn’t know. It is humanity before judgement. It is a universalism in which for example, blackness holds shared value and capacity in human being in addition to its unique qualities born of African descent without the burden of colonialism. This is universalism as transcendent being.
Ultimately, Black Unitarian Universalists will have many expressions of their faith. What I present here as a framework of Liberation Universalism is just one interpretation. Others will differ greatly. I’m convinced however that if the name “Unitarian Universalist” is going to remain a part of black UU identity, both blackness and Unitarian Universalism must be challenged and deeply interrogated and put through a rigorous theological exploration. They also must be intentionally woven together in thoughtful and thought provoking ways. Being black and UU cannot just be about white supremacy. Nor is Black UU identity solely a question of surviving anti-blackness. Black UU theology is a question of black affirmation, origins, faith, history, empowerment, mortality and more. And it is categorically unique to the experience and need of people of African descent. It is not to say that black UU is better, but black UU theology must be different. It is needed to carve out places of self-understanding that allow us to grow and thrive within all UU communities while holding our heads equally high among non-UU black faith communities. It is time for us to claim a uniquely black Unitarian Universalist theological place. Let us finally call this place home.