Advent & Esau McCaulley's Reading While Black
A local pastor made the interesting (and quite challenging) request that I write a series of short Advent devotionals incorporating Rev. Dr. Esau McCaulley’s incredible new book Reading While Black: African American Biblical Interpretation as an Exercise in Hope. I may still add McCaulley’s book to my “Suggested Reading” series and write up a review when I have time. For now, these devotionals should give you a sense of his excellent work, one that I’ll be assigning for a graduate course I’m teaching in the Spring, so check it out.
“Matter”
Lectionary readings: Isaiah 64: 1-9; Psalm 80: 1-7, 17-19; 1 Corinthians 1: 3-9; Mark 13: 24-37
Esau McCaulley, Chs. 1 & 2
Advent is the anticipation of the Christ—the one who comes to be like us, with us, and ultimately, save us. Advent is also a season reminding us that to hope is a dangerous thing. To dream of a better future might feel foolish as we lament the days we currently endure. Even though we were never constituted to be a people that defined our flourishing by temporal markers, it is precisely temporality—this reminder that we are dust—that makes our losses of time and presence with one another so difficult.
And yet, through it all, we are seen and known.
Jesus, the one who takes on flesh, shows us how much this dust matters, which means we matter, too.
Indeed, the Bible is a book that begins with the proclamation that all are made in God’s image (Genesis 1:27), or to use the modern expression that “All Lives Matter.” The holy text does not remain fixed on broad generalities for too long, though, before diving into the particularities of the “all” who matter. When Cain takes the life of his brother, Abel, we learn that the victim’s life matters to The Lord (Genesis 4: 8-11). A few verses later, that same God who honors the dead protects Cain’s life and testifies that this murderer’s life matters (vv. 13-16). Liars, thieves, idolators, adulterers, etc., they would all soon find out the power of God’s grace.
Our little king’s first breath was filled with the fetid air of a manger, but it didn’t linger in his lungs because Mary would draw him close, quietly instilling the lesson that love persists in the unlikeliest of places, in the worst of circumstances. Jesus, the culmination of God’s good creation (Colossians 1:15), in whom all things hold together (v. 17), shows us that matter matters. Christ our representative hides us (Col. 3:3) in his flesh, and though hidden, not one of us is unseen or unloved.
In this week’s lectionary readings, I am struck by the imperatives Israel makes for God to “rend the heavens and come down…. Come down to make your name known to your enemies” (Isaiah 64:1, 2b). This God is the one who has “acted on behalf of those who wait for him” (v. 4) and comes “to the help of those who gladly do right, who remember your ways” (v. 5). The psalmist exhibits the same confidence in the Lord, asking Him to “hear us,” “awaken your might,” “come and save us,” “restore us” and “make your face shine upon us” (Psalm 80:1-3).
Bold words on behalf of a people who believe that God will act for their good.
At the outset of his ministry, Jesus makes abundantly clear that the poor, the mourners, the meek—they all matter. Jesus is for all people, but he need not address them in the same way at all times. Esau McCaulley reminds us that reading the Bible is the practice that “makes room for hope in a world that tempts us to despair.” McCaulley’s work explains how the “Black ecclesial tradition” addresses real, embodied life with its attendant problems; it’s a tradition that advocates for justice, affirms black bodies and souls, and envisions a multiethnic community of faith.
McCaulley makes connections between the scriptures and today that white readers might not make if reading alone. His reading of Israel’s occupation by the Roman Empire offers compelling comparisons to today. Paul, for example, expresses in Romans 13 the limited reach of the government and its agents, particularly Roman soldiers, who policed its territory by keeping bodies in check often through dehumanizing means (see Matthew 5:39-41).
This understanding helps contextualize John the Baptist’s response to Roman soldiers, who asked him how to act within their state-sanctioned roles if they were to join God’s family: “And what should we do?” John replied, “Don’t extort money and don’t accuse people falsely” (Luke 3:14).
Let’s be clear: Not extorting money or falsely accusing the poor and dispossessed is the bare minimum one should do when he carries the full force and weight of the empire on their chest. It’s crucial to remember that the world into which Jesus would arrive was one that likely necessitated “the talk” from Mary and Joseph about chance encounters with Roman soldiers. When Roman soldiers encountered the wilderness prophet, they asked him, “And what should we do?” John prepared them for Advent. The Baptizer was clearing the path for the more radical way of Jesus, a way where one’s loyalties to the empire, societal norms, and even family will be challenged.
In this season, while we wait, we ask the Lord to prepare us for his coming. We ask our eyes to be opened to distorted loyalties and unjust practices we may unknowingly (or knowingly) support. We dare to hope in a world that tempts us to despair.
We do as our mothers and fathers in the faith have done before us, boldly praying: Restore us, Lord God Almighty; make your face shine on us, that we may be saved (Psalm 80:19).
We know that we matter, even if all else testifies to the contrary, because you have told us so.
Questions and Ponderings
Do you read the scriptures as McCaulley suggests, searching for its original context as well as contemporary parallels? If you tend to read the Bible for personal growth only, perhaps dig into the ancient setting and find a communion of believers who have hoped against hope throughout time. If you examine the Bible’s context closely, then make room for it also to speak to your situation here and now. God’s Word is a living Word.
Next, consider that we all bring our perspectives and loyalties to the Bible when we read it. No one is perfectly objective. Reflect on what you bring to the text: Your profession, your family life, your past or present hurts, your hopes, your upbringing, your race/ethnicity, etc. Consider the diversity of perspectives that exist within Christ’s Body. Are you ready to hear them?
Like those listening to John the Baptist, ask “And what should we do?” Take a moment to reflect on the things that have disappointed, stressed, or deeply pained you this year. What would restoration look like in those situations? What is in and out of your control? How can your community pray for you and support you through this time?
(© 2020, Justin Phillips)