I learned, just a few hours ago, about the death of a friend. Joyce Mounds Anderson, after a short bout with cancer, passed away this morning. I attended seminary with Joyce. She was younger than I, from Harrisburg, and was assigned to a church in the eastern part of the conference, around Philadelphia somewhere. She had just completed her Doctorate in Ministry in May, which for me, was pretty cool because she just graduated from Lancaster Theological Seminary in 2009. Joyce was a kind and gentle soul, soft spoken yet filled with the joy of the Lord. She had that kind of twinkle in her eye that, when you looked at her, made you aware that her mind was working, and that she was, perhaps, several steps ahead of you. At one point when we were in seminary, I tried to convince Joyce to apply for a position at Gravel Hill. At that time we were looking for a youth minister and I thought Joyce would be a perfect person for the job - younger, smart, a people person, and someone who was liked by children as well as adults. I talked to her about it and she seemed interested. But she finally asked a key question that let me know there could be a problem that I never thought of. I suppose sometimes I can be a bit naive.
You see, Joyce had a bit of a "handicap." Not that most of us or most of the world would see it as such, but there are still some who would call it that. In fact, many, many people of the world are just like Joyce, and proud of it. But in our neck of the woods in Palmyra, it made her stand out as different. For others, it would have been something to hold against her. For some in our community and our church, it would have been used to judge her negatively, without even getting to know her.
She declined to apply for the position at Gravel Hill, but told me she was very flattered that I had thought of her. I knew that Gravel Hill would eventually find someone who would be a great youth leader, but was sorry that Joyce wouldn't even apply. She would have been a tremendous addition to our congregation and staff.
What did Joyce ask me? She asked what kind of congregation Gravel Hill was. She didn't want to know if we were an inwardly or outwardly focused, or whether we were mostly young or old - knowing that our church is in Palmyra, she wanted to know if we were an all white congregation. For the most part, we were and still are. Joyce's "problem," or that thing that we would have used to judge her, was that she was African-American. She said she didn't think working at Gravel Hill would be good for her because she did not want to be the only African-American in the congregation. She knew a lot more about how blacks are treated in all white congregations, as well as the world at large. Though she was a United Methodist she knew that being a Christian or being members of the same denomination alone did not bind us together as a people. And it's true. And unfortunate. And she is right. I'm sure she would have been judged negatively by some people at Gravel Hill - its called prejudice, and it is still here in our midst. It may not be overt, and there may be only a few who still harbour it somewhat openly, but it is still lives and breathes in our house of worship.
In honor of Joyce's life, her life's work, and her love of God I want to say that prejudice has no place in our church, in our denomination, in Christianity, or in the Kingdom of God. The amount of melanin in our skin does not define who we are as individuals. Jesus said it is what is in the heart that matters to God. It doesn't matter if we are white, black, yellow or red. It doesn't matter if people of a race different than our own sits next to us in a pew, sings in the choir, teaches adult education classes, adopts a child from another race, or marries someone of a different race. It should not matter to us because it does not matter to God. If you hold on to prejudice you hold onto what is not holy and what is not of God. Prejudice is not born of love and love is that God-like quality in ourselves that will be used when we ourselves come to be judged. God is love, and that is what we are called to do, no matter whom it concerns.
Over 10 years ago I worked for two weeks down in San Antonio, Texas, at Brooks Army Medical Center. I was sent there as a Flight Nurse to get some experience in the care of burn patients. I assisted in the admission of one African-American gentleman who's girlfriend had poured boiling water on him while he slept. Even though it had been only an hour or two, all the skin on his right shoulder and arm, as well as portions of his back and chest, was gone. This area was now a "Caucasian-looking" pink color. Although he was in pain and the extent of his burn was not known (it can take 48-72 hours to know how deep a burn actually is), he was worried about the color of his wound. Would the natural color come back? Was it going to look like his skin was white or black when it healed?
I didn't have an answer for him because I didn't know. What I wanted to say to him was it didn't matter - he was alive. The color in our skin is only in the tiniest layer of our outer skin. But it mattered to him. He was a black man and he wanted to stay that way. For me it was the best evidence I'd ever seen that color is only skin deep. That lesson has stayed with me all these years. Color really is only skin deep. It simply doesn't matter what color someone is. What matters is the heart.
The Reverend Joyce Anderson, a loving, caring, talented, gifted, beautiful woman would not apply to Gravel Hill because of her color. I can reverse that and say I probably would not prefer to be assigned as the pastor of an all-black church either, because in our imperfect world, race still matters. In God's kingdom, it does not. As Christians, isn't it time that we put aside our hatred and prejudice? Isn't it time that we speak out against it? Isn't it time that we hold each other accountable for acting as our faith requires? Isn't it time that we stop talking about being in the world but not of it, and start living like that is our reality? Isn't it time we put away the hatred of the world and start acting out of the love that God shares with us? Isn't it time to start asking ourselves every time we act or think, "Is God's love the source?" Because love really is what it's all about. "Love one another."
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| Rev. Dr. Joyce Anderson |
