As Episcopalians, we confess our sins during worship most weeks; some of us seek out individual confession; we teach that through repentance, amendment of life, and God’s saving mercy we are promised forgiveness and redemption.
But I would say that as a whole, our culture does not demonstrate a true conviction in the power or possibility of forgiveness and reconciliation. As adults, we are hesitant to apologize because to apologize is to admit fault; and once someone has admitted their fault and their sin, they may be shunned or viewed as irredeemable. There are any number of public examples.
And so we deny or minimize our sins–both individual and corporate. It is easier to avert our eyes than to gaze deeply at our failings and trust in the power of Christ to offer his redemption for the evil we behold.
On Monday, I visited the National Memorial for Peace and Justice in Montgomery, Alabama. It is perhaps more commonly known as the “lynching memorial,” and it opened just over a year ago, along with the Legacy Museum, an exhibit demonstrating the history and effects of slavery, reconstruction, Jim Crow, and the mass incarceration of today.
It is stunning, solemn, and provocative. To read a full description and see images, I recommend the New York Times review of its opening.
The memorial itself is 800 rusty steel columns hanging suspended over a walkway, each inscribed with the name of a county and state, and the names and dates of those known to have been lynched in that county. There are 4,400 names in all — and of course, there were countless others whose lynchings were not reported in newspapers and county archives.
One of the most compelling aspects of the memorial for me was the way it commanded my gaze. I wanted to read the inscriptions on each column; to seek for counties I know; to read the stories next to some of the columns that described the instigation for a particular lynching.
The sins of racism that caused so many lynchings have not be adequately repented or healed. They live on in the inequities of our criminal justice system, the de facto segregation of our schools, and many other aspects of our common life. The Legacy Museum is clear in incorporating stories of additional groups that suffer from systematic violence and discrimination.
I do not believe we will ever find forgiveness and reconciliation without having a clear, unflinching gaze at our personal, corporate, and historic participation in the sin of racism. But just as I do not believe we will ever find forgiveness without looking clearly at our sins, nor do I believe that forgiveness and reconciliation is impossible! Jesus’ power is greater than human sin. We testify to that at Easter, and carry that Good News out to the world.
I am so grateful for the memorial’s witness to the value of the 4,400 lives inscribed on those columns, and the challenge it lays before us for how we will find reconciliation and healing. I encourage any of you who are able to consider this a place of pilgrimage. Go. Look. Pray. Repent. Act.