Facing the Alligator

I'm terrified of alligators and crocodiles. It's a totally irrational fear as I've never seen one outside of the zoo, but for some reason they haunt my dreams and my imagination. In fact, when I first moved to Houston I refused to go anywhere near the bayou for fear of being attacked by a ridiculously large-jawed reptile whose lineage has gone uninterrupted for millions of years.

Instead of being greeted by alligators here at Dayspring Episcopal Camp & Conference Center outside Sarasota, Florida, however, I was greeted by a four foot long, 2 inch diameter, black snake on the front stoop. I watched it for a while out of a semi-morbid fascination before chasing it off and entering the Retreat House.

I'm here for the preliminary consultation for lifelong formation with Black Ministries. Joining my two coworkers, Angela Ifill, Missioner for Black Ministries and fellow Formation and Vocation team member, Ruth-Ann Collins, Officer for Lifelong Formation and Older Adult Ministries, are three very lively young women and a young man from around the church.

I came into the consultation a little late after finishing with the College for Congregational Development at noon yesterday and hopping a red eye to Atlanta, and found myself knee deep in laying out a skeleton for future theological, pedagogical, and structural developments in black ministries.

I realized that I have very little experience in black Episcopal Congregations. In fact, after spending a week around leadership from Olympia my mind had become stuck in small aging white suburban parishes. I am inspired by the health and energy of these folks here gathered. I'm reminded of the large vibrant congregations of all colors which dot our ecclesial landscape. I'm reminded that booming campus ministries of several hundred are possibilities even if they are not always our goal, that some congregations have more members attend their 8 am Rite One Eucharist than most have at Easter.
I'm reminded of God's reign of connectedness and unity, here present and just beyond our view.

And I'm reminded that this connectedness is inherent in our makeup. That like this living breathing organism of a south Florida ecosystem, from its Spanish moss to its snakes and even alligators, the Episcopal Church and the Church universal is one, and both health and disease flow through its veins reaching its furthest extremities.

Today we explored some of the intricacies of the black experience in this country, from the deep connectedness of the diaspora to the continually re-opened wounds of cultural tensions, violence, and racism. Then we shared a meal of some awesome sweet potatoes, biscuits, and ham at the dining hall, before re-launching into intergenerational differences, intraracial tensions, and the need for the white community to reclaim responsibility for facing their own whiteness and privilege. These themes run through our blood as Episcopalians. The dis-ease of one will and must unsettle the whole.

The conversation has not been easy for me. There have been moments at which I have not been sure how much of my own foot I was currently chewing on, but these are the conversations we are called to have. Honest, painful and life-giving. I am so excited and blessed to be here. I hope you will follow the movement of this project as it progresses from here into the hands of very capable and talented black theologians, then into the imaginations of black practitioners and curriculum developers, before finally finding its way into our parishes, missions, and ministries.

For now my goal is to spend some time exploring churches not my own, churches with dramatically different histories, membership, and worship, to explore our diversity, all the while listening for our common heartbeat. And watching out for alligators.