2007
Topic H - The Lynching Tree
December 18, 2007

The tree with a Christmas Rose of Sharon, the tree of Calvary, and the lynching tree are more connected than I have realized. Wrestling with their meanings has helped me to organize my thoughts about significant spiritual matters and I hope that as I try to express my reflections you may also be pushed to reflect on the heavy spiritual issues of racism in our society.

The push to do this came from Dr. James Cone, on faculty at Union Seminary and a celebrated scholar on African culture, and on its contributions to the national sense of who we are. He states simply that no Christian can understand the tree of Calvary until going through the lynching tree. Both have an innocent person killed by the dominant society. Both had a birth that was heralded by great hope. (I have heard Black pastors ask at baptism “Could this be the one who will save our people?” The murmur from the congregation is as much resolute faith in God as it is hope relating to what was literally said.) Both Jesus and the black man on a rope were helpless against overwhelming odds. In neither case was the public innocent. The promise of new birth is in both. For most victim families, both victims believed that God would triumph over the incident of physical death and humiliation.

The crunch for believers in this is that none who watch is innocent. We continue to lynch, using new technology, knowing full well that some of those we execute are innocent. Not truly innocent, of course, just as none of us is truly innocent. Professor Cone believes that until we acknowledge that none of us is innocent, and talk about it (!) we cannot fully understand death on the cross. The most important piece of this is that he is not trying to drive us to a giant hand-wringing session. He is longing for us to finally move on. He believes that when we recognize that we are not innocent we can join hands to become a new people, moving toward the shining city on the hill.

In my newsletters I have carefully avoided religious terms. I cannot do it this time. The stakes for our communication are high enough I will dare to use a bit of sanctified vocabulary. We all live spiritual lives but our religious language separates us from one another -- from persons with a kindred spirit. For one example, consider the heavy tensions around the symbol of the cross.

Part of my excitement in Cone's thoughts is that his image of the cross is so close to what I have always believed. The attraction and power of Jesus to me is that he would rather stay by his principles than protect his life. He rejected Peter's sword and a presumed power of God to pull him out of the crossfire of society. He resisted evil while trusting his Creator for the lasting outcome. Countless followers have taken that stand, have died for it and have helped bring forward the faith that gives us strength for another day.

I have the highest respect for others' views of the cross, for I must listen to their witness as they listen to mine. Some see the cross as what God needs for forgiveness of sin. Some even believe that God arranged Jesus' death so as to give God a reason to forgive. God has moved powerfully in the lives of persons who had that image and I am grateful, but that premise has no appeal for me. God has moved powerfully in my life and I will never be the same. I was not seeking forgiveness, since I had assurance of that from those who taught me the scriptures. I do need motivation for daring to believe that “in the morning” those who now feel helpless will see light.

Again, we can use the images, which have power for each of us, to communicate with one another. Then we could join with others to celebrate the hope of the world, the light of peace, the promise of a new community of love, daring to live -- whatever the words.

One of the great gifts to me in writing my Nebraska history was that I interviewed two men who were present for the 1919 lynching of William Brown in Omaha. Both were hauntingly somber. Each boy was taken by his father who objected strongly to the action. Neither would claim to be innocent. We look at the picture of triumphant men, every one in a suit, black tie and hat -- to symbolize his elevated role in the community. Witnesses said all were drunk. The mayor and the Chief of Police risked their lives to stand in the way of harm to one of their citizens. William Brown had no chance, even after he was dead. The men emptied their six shooters into his charred body. They had a spooky, uncontrolled fear of his race. Hours of animal behavior, while 10,000 people watched it happen. We continue to object to our hanging trees, even while we watch.

I agree with Dr. Cone. We must first take a good look at the lynching trees and own our lack of innocence. Those who consider themselves pure will not get on the train. In most cases, the man being lynched knew that was not the measure of his worth, of his humanity, of his life. He firmly believed that time is God's, not the mob's. Time, like the coils at the end of the rope, is yet to be seen. He had no apologies to his Maker.

That night, his family and congregation would quietly sing words and thoughts with undeniable power. “Steal away to Jesus.” “Swing low, sweet chariot, coming for to carry me home.” “Step in the water, for God's going to trouble the water.” “When I get to heaven, going to put on my shoes and walk all over God's heaven.” “Mary had a baby and called his name Jesus, for he came to save.” “When I cross over Jordan.” “Get on board -- the people keep coming and the train done gone.” Also, Christmas carols: “On the blessed tree blooms the reddest flower.” “Hidden is love's agony, love's endeavor, love's expense.” “He comes, and loves, and saves and frees us.” “It came at midnight.”

Whatever your faith, I wish you a blessed Christmas. It has the most beautiful music of the year, hope for the future, and spiritual images for every thoughtful person.

Cheers

Lowen