A Word to the Diocese From the Archdeacon

Archdeacon Callie Walpole preached at Grace Church Cathedral, Charleston, on January 7, 2021, following the siege of the U.S. Capitol building on January 6. Watch the video of the homily at this link or by clicking the video below.

The text of the homily is below:

Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable…
Time past and time future
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present. 
 
You of course recognize these lines from T.S. Eliot.  Or, as William Faulkner famously said: “The past is never dead.  It’s not even past.”

I often encounter earnest people of faith who suggest that while our history is important and we need to know our history, we also need to move on into a new future.  I do not disagree.  Sometimes I have conversations with others who express a real fatigue around the conversations pertaining to racial matters.  Surprise might even be expressed on occasion that a number of us in this diocese—(and now beyond as we are meeting over Zoom)—continue to gather every single week to read and discuss books that deal with the issue of race in this country.

It was our own Bishop Guerry—martyred over his own stance that the Church must be broad enough to embrace within its communion every living human soul—who said: “If we take a backward glance today it is only that we may gain fresh strength and courage for the future and the great work to which God has called us.”  We look back so that we might move forward.  The two steps are not at odds with each other.

If you haven’t read it, I encourage you to read the classic work by C. Vann Woodward, The Strange Career of Jim Crow.  It was written back in the 1950’s and Martin Luther King quoted it in paragraphs. 

Yesterday, startlingly, on the floor of the Senate a compromise was suggested—along the lines of the Compromise of 1877.  We cannot continue to ignore the fact that attitudes about race continue to play a mammoth role in our struggles—and the invasion of our Capitol yesterday.  The Compromise of 1877 was also known as “the Great Betrayal.” The agreement of 1877 removed federal troops from the South—effectively dismantling any strides made by Reconstruction and stripping away voting rights for Blacks.  It ushered in a period known ironically, cruelly, as “Redemption”—paving the way for the Jim Crow laws of segregation.  Lynchings would become prevalent during this period as African-Americans would endure a veritable reign of terror.

If you want to learn more about all this here in South Carolina, check out the book When South Carolina was an Armed Camp, by Belton O’Neall Townsend of Florence, South Carolina.  It is a collection of articles that Townsend sent anonymously to The Atlantic.     

Yesterday, the Feast of the Epiphany, saw a number of our elected officials change their minds and their vote after the besieging of the Capitol Building by Americans—the place where our Congress meets and deliberates and passes laws for our nation.

A dark day…
         But light, we know, shines in darkness.
         That is our hope. 

I think we need to resist the very human need to move on from the pain that uncovering truth often brings.  We need to remember that it is truth that sets us free—and so we oughtn’t fear truth, or tension—but confront it with courage and grace and strength—and be open to experiencing our own epiphanies as we do.  This sort of tension is the very essence of human life. 

Our human need for avoiding or removing tension is often at odds with the very will of God.  Think about it: Eternal life—eternity itself—the essence of God—is unending, infinite, forever.  It cannot be swept away or packed up and placed into a nice box and tucked away on a shelf somewhere—thank God.

We know that “at death life is changed, not ended.”
Christ’s kingdom is forever.
So is our struggle eternal.