THE HELP

(a brief lectionary reflection by Steve Orr)

I was born and raised in the "Old South" during a time when racial segregation was the norm. However, I was not aware of all that. As a small child I was, of course, pretty oblivious to the inequities of the world. Life was just whatever I experienced. When I entered the first grade, my class was integrated. I had no way of knowing at the time that we were the first integrated class in the history of my little southern town.

Following the Supreme Court decision outlawing school segregation (Brown v. Board of Education), our little town had decided on what was called a "progressive plan"; we integrated the first grade and then continued to integrate behind that same class as it progressed through the years of public education. Finally, when my class entered the 7th grade the city fathers decided to end segregation throughout, the system. The last all black junior high school, all three grades, was closed and all the students came over to our junior high school. At the same time, the last all black high school in our town was closed, along with a second all white high school, with all students then attending the only remaining high school in town.

I'm sure there must have been resistance to this process, undoubtably at every stage (let's face it, we followers of Jesus can't even get through a church business meeting with everyone in agreement), but I never heard a single word of it. Somehow, my town accomplished integration while the rest of the south resisted it. But, that is not the point of this little reverie.

I only tell this little bit of my bio to help explain this next part: because I didn't experience it, a long time passed before I really began to understand how truly vast was the wrongness experienced by my brother and sister citizens of color prior to an including this period of time.

(One more brief story, and then I promise to get to the point) When I was about 7 or 8 years old, my family made a car trip to visit relatives in Florida (actually, this was the only way we ever took a vacation . . . with a relative at the other end of the trip). I recall stopping at one point to buy gas, go to the bathroom, etc. I was thirsty and rushed to the water fountain on the side of the service station. I saw a cup hanging from the side of the water fountain, tied to it with a string. I had filled it with water and was raising it to my lips when my mother stopped my rising arm and took the cup from my hand. She told me I couldn't use that cup because it was only for "coloreds." I clearly remember being puzzled by that information and asking her, "How come THEY get one?" I also clearly remember the strange look that came over my mother's face and her then saying, "I'll explain it in the car." By now you are probably wondering just how naive a child can be. Apparantly, pretty naive. That was a real eye opening Q&A session as we motored on through the south toward the sunny beaches of Florida. That was the beginning of my education about segregation.

Lately, I've been reading Kathryn Stockett's amazing novel, THE HELP; a story about the black women who worked in the homes of white people, raised their kids, cooked their meals, scrubbed their floors, polished their silver, washed their clothes . . . but were not allowed to drink from the same glassware, eat with the same utensils, drink from the same water fountains, use the same bathrooms, or live in the same part of town as whites. They were not paid a living wage; most could not afford to own a home, so they paid whatever rent the landlord decided was appropriate. Unlike a lot of other Americans, when southern blacks ran out of money before they ran out of month, it wasn't because they had splurged on some excess. It was because they had come to the point where they had to decide between eating and having a place to live. I don't plan to belabor this. You can easily find all sorts of historical descriptions of African American life in the early 1960's in the south. Or maybe you should just read THE HELP, a far more entertaining way to have your eyes opened.

What got me off onto this topic was a portion of one of this week's lectionary scriptures (Isaiah 1:16-18). Verse 18 is the more commonly known of this passage ("Come now, let us reason together, says the LORD: though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be like snow..."). Reading it reminded me that President Lincoln borrowed from this passage in a speech advocating the end of slavery, and that others, including President Kennedy, borrowed from it as well. But, what is easy to overlook is the immediately preceding verses, the portion that addresses what it is the Lord wants us to reason with Him about: "Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your doings from before my eyes; cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow."

I don't know how anyone can read that passage without taking a moment to think about just exactly who they know that is so oppressed they need rescuing. For most of us, that seems like it must be someone from far away, certainly not anyone we know. And yet, if we will but look around, like He has always intended His people to do, I believe we will find it is our neighbor who needs rescuing; that the orphan is close by and the widow even closer.

Something to think about.

###########

This week's lectioanry passages:
Habakkuk 1:1-4; 2:1-4
Psalm 119:137-144
Isaiah 1:10-18
Psalm 32:1-7
2 Thessalonians 1:1-4, 11-12
Luke 19:1-10

If you are in Waco on Friday, consider joining the group meeting at 8AM at Cafe Cappuccino (downtown of 6th) for great food and great discussion. And if you are not in Waco, consider forming your own discussion group to explore these scriptures and how they still can shape our lives if we allow it.

Enjoy!
Steve