For Whom Will Tomorrow’s Bell Toll? Thoughts On Paula Deen

"A word once spoken can never be taken back..."

So goes the old African proverb, wisdom no doubt gleaned from a lesson that was learned the hard way.

Last week, we all watched the train wreck that resulted in Paula Deen’s removal from the Food Network. Ms. Deen will appropriately have to answer for her workplace atmosphere – she is singularly responsible for the conditions in which her employees worked, and for their treatment while there. If the allegations are true, then feeling shame, remorse and regret for her actions is, in this case, appropriate.*

The deeper problem with Ms. Deen’s story is that the court of public opinion doesn’t exact justice. It cries for vengeance. I wondered, along with several friends, what would happen if people demanded that we be held responsible for the careless words we’ve spoken in the past?

Taking Back the Black Church From Yvette Carnell

Last week, Huffington Post contributor Yvette Carnell published “Why Black Liberals Need to Take Back [The] Black Agenda From The Black Church.”  In it, the founder of the Breaking Brown media hub felt she “made the case” that the Black Church had outlived its political usefulness, and should take a back seat to Black liberals in driving the Black political agenda.  In response to strong criticism from her readers, she released a subsequent article to bring some definition to the large brush strokes with which she painted the Black church, its history and shortcomings.  On her media site, Ms. Carnell promised that this is just the beginning of a larger analysis she will deliver on the Black church, and its relation to current Black politics.

Her writings left us with a few questions: Did she indeed ‘make her case’ regarding the Black Church in these two articles?  Further, what do we need to know about her approach as she presents her forthcoming critique?

Let’s think through her argument together.

Motherhood, Untimely Born

A curious command and promise opens Isaiah 54:

1 “Sing, O barren one, who did not bear;

break forth into singing and cry aloud,

you who have not been in labor!

2 For the children of the desolate one will be more

than the children of her who is married,” says the Lord.

 “Enlarge the place of your tent,

and let the curtains of your habitations be stretched out;

do not hold back; lengthen your cords

and strengthen your stakes.

3 For you will spread abroad to the right and to the left,

and your offspring will possess the nations

and will people the desolate cities....

While Isaiah is speaking directly of the little post-exilic community in Judea, he is also speaking more broadly of the future glory of True Israel.  We just saw the anguished victory of the Suffering Servant in the passage before; now the Servant’s task is seen as fulfilled, and the prophet breaks into a hymn and shouts of praise from the "barren, childless woman," welcoming the dawn of the New Age.

Hold up… did we read that right?  What reason could a childless woman possibly have to rejoice?

“Who’s Your Daddy:” Our Creeping Cultural Crisis

The other day my wife and I pulled into a gas station where several others were already fueling up.  From all appearances, they were “good-ol’-boys”, friendly southern White folks who have risen above the old historically offensive and racially charged “redneck” culture.  Good-ol’-boys are light-hearted about their own culture and appreciate the cultures of others.  As we filled our tanks, an African American fella pulled up in his ‘hoopty’, gangsta rap booming so loud that it distorted his speakers.  With pants sagging, he promptly left his car with the ground shaker blasting, leaving the rest of us in the noise that required us to shout to be heard.  Everyone at the pumps was similarly affected and annoyed.

As we left the gas station with our ears ringing, my wife commented, “the ol’ redneck culture meets its progeny.”  (I’ll explain this in a bit.)  This incident caused the memory of Lil’ Wayne’s tasteless and insolent lyrics from "Future's Karate Chop" to intrude into my mind: "I’m gonna pop a lot of pills / [then] beat that p***y up like Emmett Till…" – disgusting.

The Chocolate Heart

Don’t tell my husband’s mom, but I bought her one of those giant boxed hearts full of chocolates for Valentine’s Day.  I really can’t think of anyone who enjoys chocolates more than my mother-in-love.  She can detect chocolate in the house more accurately than a heat-seeking missile – after all, she’s had some eighty-plus years to refine her detection technology. Between her and my chocolate-loving husband, such treats don’t last long in our house, but I think I’ve successfully hidden the chocolate heart out of the range of her highly-refined cocoa-radar … so far.

Since the purchase, I’ve found myself reflecting on a poem from Langston Hughes that my mother-in-love would remember, having lived in New York during the Harlem Renaissance.  It echoes in my head every time I think about that chocolate heart, knowing that it contains a diverse selection of candies that will be received by a woman who’s learned to appreciate each one for what it may have to offer. 

Here’s an excerpt from that poem:

“Molasses taffy,

Coffee and cream,

Licorice, clove, cinnamon

To a honey brown dream.

Ginger, wine-gold,

Persimmon, blackberry –

All through the spectrum,

Harlem girls vary –

So if you want to know beauty’s

Rainbow sweet thrill,

Stroll down luscious,

Delicious, fine Sugar Hill.”1

Hughes has spelled out something that could take a lifetime for many of us of color to embrace – that everything about us can reflect God’s deliberate artistry and handiwork, down to the DNA that determines the way each of us is made.

The Brazen, Beautiful Humanity of Malala Yousafzai

Karen's latest blog post looks at Christ's approach to women living under the first century Roman Empire in light of children's rights, and the recent radical Islamic violence against fourteen-year-old activist Malala Yousafzai.

I'm so proud of my wife, and I'm pleased to encourage you to follow her on her new page for blog posts about theology, identity, dignity, women's consciousness, the unique value of redeemed women of color, and the global pursuit of human rights. - CE

Behold, The Man

By now, we’ve all seen this infamous tri-panel icon, an Ecce Homo that is Elías García Martínez’ fresco representation of the suffering Christ, crowned with thorns.  The three panels escort our eye from left to right; from the fresco in its younger days, to its time-weathered degeneration, ending finally with the well-intentioned yet botched efforts of an amateur restoration that holds only a shadow of the original.  This century-old Ecce Homo, housed in Spain’s Santuario de la Misericordia, was first created as an instrument to inspire worship.  After its unfortunate “restoration,” the community says it’s now valuable only in a far less lofty function – promoting tourism and stimulating pop-culture.  As t-shirts and other marketing items exploit its odd tale, experts now consider it ruined for its original purpose.

All is not lost; the incident brings out at least two valuable lessons that stand out in bold bas-relief.