A Conversation With D.L. Mayfield, Author of The Myth of the American Dream

D.L. Mayfield/photo by Jared Whitney

D. L. Mayfield is a writer and activist who has spent over a decade working with refugee communities in the United States. Her work has been published in McSweeney's, The Washington Post, Christianity Today, Christian Century, Sojourners, Vox, and the Englewood Review of Books. She is also the author of Assimilate or Go Home: Notes from a Failed Missionary on Rediscovering Faith. She lives in Portland, Oregon, with her husband and two children. In the third chapter of THE MYTH OF THE AMERICAN DREAM, Reflections on Affluence, Autonomy, Safety and Power, you reference a powerful quote from Martin Luther King, Jr. "Men convinced themselves that the system that was so economically profitable must be morally justifiable... Their rationalizations clothe obvious wrongs in the beautiful garments of righteousness. This tragic attempt to give moral sanction to an economically profitable system gave birth to the doctrine of White supremacy." You write that King was talking about slavery. You also make a connection between White supremacy and the doctrine of manifest destiny. I remember, as a kid in the 1960s, being taught (by nuns) about manifest destiny, as if it were inevitable and a good thing. I wonder how you would explain this connection to present-day elementary and middle-school kids, and adults too?

I think manifest destiny is another way to live into the white supremacist belief that America, in particular, is at the pinnacle of innovation and God’s dream for the world. What is interesting is that in the history books I grew up reading, it was only White European Protestants that had the blessing from God to take over North America and make it great (Catholics were of the devil!). Slavery fits into this narrative neatly--first, the indigenous peoples were exploited and then decimated by the European settlers, then chattel slavery became the norm to make the plantations profitable. The most troubling thing about my background is how this conquering mindset is “God-ordained.” As theologian Willie James Jennings puts it, this means that the American (White) Christian imagination is inherently diseased, since it is bound up with the idea that one group of people at the top of a racial hierarchy, and this is God’s will. 

Just a few pages after the mention of supremacy and manifest destiny, you write, "The only problem [with the American Dream] is that being safe and secure isn't a major theme of Scripture - but unjust economic practices are. Especially among the white evangelical churches in America, how can this observation be shared and better understood?

Looking at Scriptures in a more holistic light (and less from an individualistic approach), we do see that the Bible is obsessed with people--and economics affects people! Growing up I thought much of the Hebrew Scriptures were about bowing down to idols--but actually, it’s much more than that. It’s all about shalom, or the flourishing of an entire community. This is why the Hebrew Scriptures talk constantly about prioritizing the poor: the foreigner, the orphan, and the widow--people who were not prioritized then (or now) in exploitative economies.. But what are American white evangelicals known for currently? From our radio stations (safe for the whole family) to our immigration politics (America first) we have lost the vision for the common good. We believe focusing on our family first is a Biblical principle--and I just don’t see that fleshed out in the whole of Scripture. 

I love what you write about the Thanksgiving Address recited by students on the Onondaga Reserve in New York. "[T]he Thanksgiving Address takes its time to thank various elements of the earth - water, wind, fire, plants, animals, and more. At the end of each section, there is a time to invite the listener to agree, to come back to... 'We give things to the stars, who are spread across the sky like a jeweler... With our minds gathered as one, we send greetings and thanks... Now our minds are one." This prayer seems so solidly natural, inclusive and gracious. And I wonder, are these qualities partly an antidote to the American Dream?

Yes, Robin Wall Kimmerer wrote about the Thanksgiving Address in her book Braiding Sweetgrass--which in itself is a great antidote to the extreme individualism of the American Dream! I’ve had the profound pleasure to live as a neighbor to people who come from more collectivist countries and it has shown a blinding light on the limits of my own individualistic framework (both my theology and my civic engagement, to be honest!). I think keeping in mind our relationship to our vulnerable community members, to the earth, and engaging in the practice of gratitude and articulating interdependence are all values I want to continue to grow in.

About half-way through your book, you discuss education and what part it plays in propagating the American Dream. You talk about a once-a-decade touch-up on the local elementary school, conducted by sincere folks, from outside of the neighborhood. And you write "What exactly does it mean to love a neighborhood, to adopt it, to help it, to fix it, when you wouldn't actually ever move into it?" And a startlingly honest follow-up question: "Someone's kids have to attend the worst school in your city. In your mind whose kids should that be?" You make the point that how we answer these questions shows how deeply autonomy is lodged in us. We want the best for our kids, to the exclusion of everyone one else. Is this why the issue of public education is such an emotional one? And why well-meaning parents/guardians can be blinded to complicity in supporting unjust systems?

I think public education is where the rubber meets the road for our values (especially people who consider themselves progressive)--or where intent isn’t enough if the impact is negative. And the truth is our education system is wildly inequitable, and if you have means you try and work the system so your kids get a better situation than others. But if you are a Christian, and you believe the gospel in action looks like loving your neighbor as yourself, we need to not make these decisions with only our children in mind. We need to make them with the most vulnerable children prioritized. I know this can feel touchy to people, but perhaps that is because we are so much more comfortable only thinking about what we owe our own children. But that is not a Biblical concept, especially in the kingdom of God that Jesus talked about constantly. I’m not telling people what they should do with their kids or education, but I am saying we need to ask better questions about our responsibility to those our educational system is failing. 

And then you talk about the Biblical writers and prophets, "who would be baffled by how individualism, consumerism, and affluence have shared our communities - including how we eat, shop, educate our children and worship." You go on to describe another factor of this complex equation, the ramifications of living in a fear-driven culture. "You can't love somebody if you are determined to be afraid of them. Perhaps that's why the Bible is full of the messengers of God telling everyone to 'fear not.' It is our human impulse to fear. And it is our human impulse to baptize it under religious language." Do you see fear actually fueling individualism, consumerism and affluence?

This is an interesting question to answer during a global pandemic. When I wrote The Myth of the American Dream I was thinking specifically about how fear shaped the political mind of white evangelicals in regards to immigration and the decimation of the U.S. Refugee Resettlement Program. I also see this at work in our drive to be political--if we don’t vote for Trump, then the liberals win. What are we so afraid of losing? Cultural power? Government funds? Tax Credits? Again, the Biblical writers would be stunned at our hubris. They lost much more than that--even their lives--and were following God wholeheartedly. But so many white evangelicals don’t seem to be very afraid of turning people away from the good news of Jesus with our actions--and yet that is what is currently happening. 

In the chapter of your book titled "Empire," you write "...White evangelical

expressions of Christianity in America, cannot die because it is inherently blessed by God. This is ingrained in my brain, where this vicious myth has taken root and made itself true." You go on to make the point that: "There is nothing in Scripture, nothing in Jesus, that says my proud and terrible and interesting country is particularly blessed, has some special favor, has some special reason for existence." Believing this myth "leads to small, deformed imaginations - I see it in how White evangelical Christianity has been tangled up in the same pull toward greatness, toward power, toward viewing ourselves as specially anointed by God to rule the world, to hold and be in charge." Given this understanding, how do you see the recent response to the killing of George Floyd and the Black Lives Matter movement?

I think we are in a really important time of unveiling. America has never been great--and it shouldn’t be perceived as threatening to be honest about that. If you feel threatened by that statement, then you have made an idol of your nationalism. It’s scriptural to seek out and listen to the voices of those who are the farthest away from the seats of power and sit at their feet. To see what a just and equitable world would look like for them. Because if the marginalized flourish in our neighborhoods and cities, then we all will! But our entire economy has it backwards, prioritizing the rich at every turn. I think it is moments like this that can actually bring about a cultural shift--if we can listen and try to understand the anger of Black Americans, if we can have the imagination to wonder what it would look like if we defunded the police and put resources towards public education, if we wept with those who wept--I think we can begin to make real systemic and moral changes. 

Part of the solution, as you see it, is "To seek and celebrate the stories we were taught to ignore, erase, or dismiss. This is the first step in acknowledging that how we see ourselves in the world is not always correct. It is the first step of acknowledging that people who come from places of power and privilege always see ourselves as the center... The antidote to these myths is to consciously remember those who are not writing the history textbooks. To pay attention to the world, and the myths we promote and the histories we ignore. To seek out the stories that do not just celebrate people like us but that remember those who came first." Nigerian writer Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie gave a powerful TED talk about 'The Danger of a Single Story.' She seems to be making a similar observation. In your book, you go to note that: "Empire loves to create statues to itself - think of the bull on Wall Street, the statues of Confederate leaders..." What do you think about the recent pulling down of such statues as part of the protests around the killing of George Floyd? Could this be a way of dismantling a single story?

I love all the symbolic imagery happening right now--both the pulling down of statues that seek to reinvent history (the noble lost cause narrative of the south was a strategic and targeted plan to make slaveholders and confederate generals appear noble) and the memorials and murals we are seeing pop up everywhere to lament the loss of Black and Brown lives to police brutality. Obviously, imagery and symbols aren’t enough, but it is a way to shape the cultural imagination. The United States has a horrible history of refusing to engage with the racial violence in its past, and so now the people are forcing a public reckoning. It complicates the narrative, which is vital for people like me. 

Finally, you discuss the importance of lamenting. "In arenas packed with people, in the halls of government buildings, in churches large and small, in universities and conferences, I was not taught to learn how to lay down my power willingly. I was taught to fight for it, which dulled and tarnished my ability to mourn the reality of those who truly were being oppressed in my midst. And if I can't learn to lament and repent, I will never be able to envision a world where resurrection is truly possible." What's your definition of lamenting? What does lamenting look like to you? And how can we learn to lament, and leave room for it?

I’m still learning about lament, and I am indebted to people like Walter Brueggemann, Soong-Chan Rah, Lisa Sharon Harper, and Donna Barber (among others) to reclaim this important piece of Christian and scriptural heritage. Lament starts with the belief that there is a God who is present and listening, so it really is about faith. Lament also is about naming exactly what is wrong in the world--no sugar coating it, and no rushing to make it better. It’s being honest about exactly how messed up our world is. Right now it can be so overwhelming to engage with the news--global, local--because of the sheer amount of tragedies and histories we are being forced to reckon with. Lament helps us be able to name what troubles us, to have an honest conversation with God. And through that, we remember how God has shown up in the past for oppressed peoples. And for people like myself, who envision being the savior in these scenarios or like I can fix racism in the U.S. with a snap of my fingers, it reminds me I am just one tiny person among many many Christians who long for God’s dream for the world to be made manifest. Lament centers us in our actual world, with a faith in a present and good God, and in the knowledge that we are a part of a large community with dreams that come from far beyond us. It’s a beautiful and restorative practice, and at least 30% of psalms are in the lament tradition. And yet we don’t engage with them as White evangelicals hardly at all in our worship services. I wonder if that is because naming the world as it is can be seen as threatening to a religion that has tied itself to the success of the empire?  Click here for more on D.L. Mayfield.

A Review: THE WAY UP IS DOWN, by Marlena Graves

Marlena Graves

THE WAY UP IS DOWN, Becoming Yourself by Forgetting Yourself by Marlena Graves, is absolutely beautiful in its composition, thought-process, insight and wisdom.

The whole premise of Graves’ book is servant living, rooted in deep love of and trust in God.

She continually slips in pearls of wisdom, almost discreetly.

Like this: “Could it be that Jesus learned the habit of voluntary self-emptying and renunciation of self-will by observing his mother? Graves asks us to recall the words of Mary’s response to the angel Gabriel [what we call the Magnificat… “I am the Lord’s servant… May your word in me be fulfilled.”]

“Jesus didn’t cling to his rights,” Graves writes, “He repeatedly gave them up.”

She goes on, “To choose emptiness entails a deep trust in God as we take the downward descent into servanthood and humility… It’s the way of his mama. But it makes absolutely no sense from the human perspective.”

Graves points out that Jesus was born “at the bottom of society’s pecking order… The first time God opened his eyes, he gazed into the face of his mother. Had Mary not been able to feed him from her own body, Jesus would have perished. Holy vulnerability.”

How do we begin to achieve such a level of servanthood? Graves advises that “If I am to be like Jesus, a saint, I am going to have to walk away from what this world calls status...”

In discussing other aspects of servanthood, Graves offers a take on a piece of the American version of Christianity that most would ignore. “Back in the day when there was prayer in school, there was slavery, lynching, and the genocide of the indigenous too. Our abuse, torture, and killing of others betray our prayerlessness and lack of love for sister and brother. God would rather have our life of prayer manifest itself in love for our neighbors, which demonstrates our love for him, over perfunctory prayer in school any day.”

“Any Christianity that justifies the hatred, mistreatment, or abuse of another is not the way of Jesus.”

After making this point, Graves concludes: “How then do we become the kind of people who are not akin to the Ku Klux Klansmen pastors and laypeople of our time, but those who are living answers to prayer for others? We begin first, I think, by praying for our enemies and moving in the direction of love.”

She backs up this idea by quoting Dallas Willard, who wrote “To understand Jesus’ teachings, we must realize that deep in the orientations of our spirit we cannot have one posture toward God and a different one toward other people.”

A few chapters later, in discussing the true, humble saints of the earth who will have a huge inheritance in heaven, Graves refers to C.S. Lewis’ THE GREAT DIVORCE. Quickly she then refers to Paul’s reference of “incomparably great power,” mentioned in Ephesians 1:19-21.

Paul prayed that the members of the Ephesian church would have their eyes opened to receive such power. Eyes opened by living close to the ground, away from status, success and the world.

“The posture of a servant is of one of bent knees. Washing soiled feet. It is a close-to-the-earth, face-to-the-ground posture. Vulnerable. It is only in this lowly position, a servant’s posture, that glory is revealed and that we have the possibility of glimpsing the grandeur and glory about us. We are able to truly see when we see the earth from below rather than from above.”

Farther on in THE WAY UP IS DOWN, Graves discusses people, who like the beggar

Lazarus, are ignored by those around them. “We isolate them through unjust laws and behaviors. And we segregate ourselves from them. We find new and improved ways to separate ourselves from them and them from us… There are many ways to trample on our Lazaruses. Many ways to unsee them… We falsely believe we have no responsibility for them! We hate them while singing our worship songs and convincing ourselves that we are safe from wrongdoing. We fail to realize that we are heretics because of the content of our action or inaction, which reveals the content of our character.”

“I worry about us as a church when we ignore and bad mouth the immigrant, undocumented or not, the refugee, the poor, the physically or mentally sick, the elderly, disabled, imprisoned, and other vulnerable and marginalized people, including children…Ignoring also entails supporting and voting for bad laws, that is, unjust laws that worsen their plight. I really do worry when we railroad the very people Jesus made a beeline for.”

Graves suggests that her worldview is counterintuitive. It becomes possible only through memento mori (remembering that we will all die), which opens the door to living life purposefully; which she defines as Kairos (Greek for the right, critical or opportune moment).

She quotes McKinley Valentine to further define the term. “In Christian theology, Kairos is referred to extensively. It has the sense of ‘ripeness.’ It can be a small moment in one person’s life that is ripe, and full, and perfect.”

For Graves, the goal of a Christian life looks like this: “I don’t want anything else. Not when it comes to possessions. All I want to do is be able to pay my bills and not live paycheck to paycheck. There are very few things I want or need.”

On the flip side of this, here’s a very unique view of hell. “Hell is laser focusing on what you don’t have, refusing to take our eyes off of our deprivations.”

Towards the end of her book, Graves provides a treasure trove of wisdom. Beginning with this: “When we’ve made our requests to God and done our part and accept the given until God shows us otherwise, if he ever does, we become grounded. We fix our eyes on Jesus and practice gratitude so we can learn gratitude. We live simply… We pray… We do the next thing given to us. We learn a healthy detachment. We learn to listen for God’s quiet voice and spot God’s hands in the midst of the dizzying noise and glittering neon lights of our consumer culture…”

She references James 5:16-18 concerning the effective prayer of a righteous person. “James connects a holy life, a righteous life, with powerful and effective prayer. We can’t miss or dismiss the connection between holiness and a powerful presence (and effective prayer!)… I am not talking about people who claim to be holy but people who are so much like Jesus that they take our breath away.”

To Graves’ way of thinking, this is where true power comes from. “This is the fruit of Jesus’ heart becoming our heart. It is a life full of the Holy Spirit. Our mere presence can usher in shalom and healing.”

Marlena Graves proved herself to be an uncommonly insightful writer with her first book, A BEAUTIFUL DISASTER. And THE WAY UP IS DOWN is additional, ample evidence of this fact.

THE WAY UP IS DOWN,  Becoming Yourself by Forgetting Yourself, is scheduled for release on July 14th.

A Conversation With Kim Hillebrand (Rev. Ai Su)

Kim Hillebrand (Rev. Ai Su)

Kim Hillebrand (Rev. Ai Su) joined the Kaufman Interfaith Institute in October 2019 with more than twenty years of nonprofit work in development and program management, including experience building spiritually grounded communities within the workplace.  She has earned undergraduate degrees in biological sciences and cultural anthropology and is currently pursuing a Master’s degree in Social Innovation at GVSU.  She is an ordained Buddhist Dharma Teacher with formal training in both Zen and Dzogchen.  Her foundational practice is Metta, or loving-kindness, a practice that she has undertaken almost daily for more than twenty years.

Could you give a brief background of what the Kaufman Institute does, its mission, and its importance?


With the mission of promoting interfaith understanding and mutual respect, the Kaufman Interfaith Institute offers a broad range of programming (over 200 events/initiatives each year) that creates a more inclusive and equitable West Michigan Community for persons of diverse cultural and religious/secular/spiritual identities. The Kaufman Institute works in the community and on area college campuses to advance this mission and to establish models for similar communities to embrace and foster intercultural and interfaith understanding.  More about the Kaufman Interfaith Institute can be found at www.interfaithunderstanding.org. 


How about your own history with the Kaufman Institute?

I joined the Kaufman Interfaith Institute in October of 2019.  For the first several months after joining the Institute, I researched organizational history, assisted with planning and implementing events, and integrated myself into the organizational culture and workflow. 

With my environmental education and ten-plus years of environmental advocacy work experience, in April I jumped in with both feet to assist with the planning of the city-wide Earth Day 50 event and the Grand Dialogue in Science and Religion, an interfaith convening sponsored by the Kaufman Institute focusing on climate action through an interfaith lens.  Both of those events were postponed due to the pandemic.

Currently, I’m working on the beginning stages of a collaborative three-year project supported by the Fetzer Institute in Kalamazoo, which you’ll read about below.


And your own spiritual formation? What/who were your influencers? 

I have always been one to seek out and learn about things that were very different from my own experience.  So, at Western Michigan University, I chose to live in a year-round dorm that was favored by many international students.  My roommate was Japanese, and she introduced me to many other students from many other cultures and religions.  I enjoyed a wildly diverse college experience!

During that time, I worked at Western Michigan University’s bookstore, and one day I came across the book “Being Peace” by Thich Nhat Hanh.  I sat down on the floor of the bookstore, read this little book cover to cover, and then used my food money to purchase it.  From that moment on, a big piece of my life snapped into place.  I had found the religious tradition that resonated with me, and all I was missing was belonging to a community of practitioners.    

After college, I moved to Washington, DC with the hopes of breaking into entry-level non-profit environmental work.  While there, my cultural and religious curiosity was satiated by visiting embassies, taking part in cultural festivals, and visiting many places of worship.  The day that I walked into a Tibetan Buddhist temple, my life was forever changed.  The feeling I had experienced years before related to identifying the faith tradition that resonated with my very being was affirmed, and I had found a community of practitioners (Sangha). I felt at home.

After almost twenty years of Buddhist practice, and several years of intense training, I was ordained as a Buddhist Dharma Teacher at the Grand Rapids Buddhist Temple.  I appreciate opportunities to speak and write about the Buddhist tradition and relish opportunities to join friends from other traditions in interfaith panels and discussions.

The influencers who have all made a profound impact on my life are my first teacher, Lama Kalsang; Thich Nhat Hanh; Archbishop Desmond Tutu; Martin Luther King, Jr.; Rumi; Richard Rohr; His Holiness the Dalai Lama; and so many more.   


I understand that the Kaufman Institute is reaching out to Kalamazoo to do interfaith work there. Could you give us a sense of what's happening?

Absolutely!  The Kaufman Interfaith Institute is partnering with the Fetzer Institute, a non-profit based in Kalamazoo.  My role in this work is to develop a transferable model for community-driven interfaith understanding, respect, acceptance and honoring of all, based on the interfaith model that has been implemented in Grand Rapids by the Kaufman Interfaith Institute over the past decade.  The goals of this project are not only to eventually develop a useful model for other communities to consider as an interfaith resource, but also to offer the resources and connections of the Kaufman Interfaith Institute in service to the interfaith work already happening on the ground in Kalamazoo and, more broadly, in Southwest Michigan.  I look forward with humility and excitement to partnering with Kalamazooans and surrounding communities to support their interfaith efforts. 


In your experience, what are the ingredients necessary to make interfaith efforts work? 

In any recipe, the ingredients make the dish.  Interfaith work is no different.  The openness and inclusivity of the space in which interfaith gatherings happen directly correlates to the finished dish, or what emerges from the conversation.  The ingredients necessary to help foster interfaith work revolve mostly around creating the space for people to manifest in real-time their unique authenticity, to speak openly without judgment, and to be curious and learn about worldviews and ways of being that are very different from their own without any pressure to change or convert.    

So for the Kaufman Interfaith Institute, our most important role in interfaith work is to serve our community as a convener, working to build, cultivate, and nurture spaces in which interfaith understanding can flourish.   


Given the current divisiveness across America, and really, the world, would you want to speak to what you see as some of the causal factors, and how interfaith work is helping?

From my perspective, divisiveness is born of an inability or unwillingness to honor a lived experience that is different from one’s own…an unwillingness to truly see a person very different from oneself.  From the rejection of another based on political beliefs, LGBTQ views, religious or secular traditions, gender identities, race or ethnic identities, etc., a lack of compassion and empathy follows until it appears that no commonalities exist.  The perceived differences between “us and them” creates the illusion of separation which breeds fear, apathy, and ultimately, hatred. 

We see this every day in our political landscape, in the ways that we are divided on racial inequities that are finally at the forefront of our national consciousness, and even in our decisions about whether or not to wear a mask during a global pandemic. We witness divisiveness all around us.  We feel divided.  But divisiveness is only as strong as the will to think of oneself as better or righter than another. 

When we can release the heavy burden of our attachments, opinions, and prejudices that we carry with us every hour of every day, and we can reject those delusions of separation that are born of our dualistic thinking (me and you, us and them, good and bad, right and wrong), then truly seeing someone very different from ourselves is possible.  If we focus on our commonalities, we will no longer see “the other”.  We will realize that there is no other.  What remains is understanding, unity, and love.  

Interfaith work is a model for bridging across any religious, spiritual, or secular differences, to break through perceived differences and the dualistic thinking that is so pervasive in our society.  The ingredients that help bring understanding across religious differences are the same ingredients that can bring understanding across any perceived difference.

The bridge to understanding is always there.  We only have to take one step forward toward a person we perceive as “other” to begin to build peaceful, equitable communities in which everyone can thrive.

James Cone's SAID I WASN'T GONNA TELL NOBODY, A Review

James Cone/UTSNYC.edu

James Cone, a brilliant man who is considered to be the father of black theology, was born in Arkansas and, as a young child, attended Macedonia AME Church in Bearden.

Years later, just before the cusp of the Civil Rights and Black Power movements, he had earned a Ph.D. and was teaching.

But as he himself pointed out, during those six years of postgraduate work, he had never read a single book by a black theologian.

So after a mentor encouraged him to write, he started to form what became the foundation for Black theology. Going home to Arkansas to begin working on his first book BLACK THEOLOGY AND BLACK POWER.

"I would walk around in the office of my brother's church, reading aloud what I had written, amazed at the clarity and power of the message and the beauty of the words coming out of me. I felt as though it wasn't me writing, but some spiritual force telling me what to write. I felt as if black folk in Bearden were talking to me, telling me to speak the truth... I even felt the spirits of my slave ancestors rising up inside me, whispering words of encouragement, telling me to be strong in black faith and not to be afraid as long as I knew I was writing God's truth."

He notes that "While Black Power is not the church, it is a profound experience of blackness that all black people are called to embrace. All this deconstruction and recovery prepared me for the task of construction: the making of a black theology defined by black suffering and struggle"

Cone explains that "Black theology's spirit did not come from Europe but from Africa, from American slavery and its auction blocks, from the spirituals and the blues. The Christocentric center of black theology was defined by the Black Christ who enabled black people to survive slavery, to overcome Jim Crow segregation, and to defeat the lynching tree."

As recent events in America and the Black Lives Matter movement have underscored, Cone makes crystal clear: "People cannot live without a sense of their own worth. It black liberation theology, I was expressing black self-worth, which was denied or ignored by white theology and its churches."

And Cone offers a spiritual dimension to the on-going struggle for justice. "The black church, despite its failures, gives black people a sense of worth. They know they are somebody because God loves them and Jesus died for them. No matter what white people do to them, they cannot take their worth away."

Garnered from an academic career that spanned over fifty years, Cone observes: "Whether theologians acknowledge it or not, all theologies begin with experience. Theologians from the Western theological tradition often regard their theology as universal, something that everyone must study. But no theology is universal... We are all particular human beings, finite creatures, and we create our understanding of God out of our experience. Hopefully, our own experience points to the universal, but it is never identical with it. For when we mistake our own talk about God with ultimate reality, we turn it into ideology."

Cone takes narrow-minded views of God to task. "How could white Christians, who also claim to believe that Jesus died on the cross to save them, turn around and put blacks on trees and kill them?... Part of the answer lay in the unfortunate fact, during the course of two thousands years of Christian history, that the cross as a symbol of salvation had been detached from the ongoing suffering and oppression of human beings, the crucified people of history."

"If we want to understand what the crucifixion means for Americans today, we must view it through the lens of mutilated black bodies whose lives are destroyed in the criminal justice system. Jesus continues to be lynched before our eyes. He is crucified wherever people are tormented. That is why I say Christ is black."

Of his own upbringing's influence on his theological outlook, Cone says "It was my parents' faith that gave them the inner resources to transcend the brutality and see the real beauty in the tragedy of their lives. It is a mystery, a profound and deep mystery, how many African-Americans, even after two and a half centuries of slavery and another century of lynching and Jim Crow segregation, still refuse to allow themselves to be infected with hatred."

"'Black Lives Matter' is a partial realization of my hope. It is also my hope that whites, too, will be redeemed from their blindness and open their eyes to the terror of their deeds so they will know that we are all of one blood, brothers and sisters, literally and symbolically, and that what they do to blacks, they do to themselves."

Cone devotes a chapter of SAID I WASN'T GONNA TELL NOBODY, discussing another of his books, THE CROSS AND THE LYNCHING TREE. Cone includes a prayer, that is powerful in its vision of the future. "Let us hope, through God's grace and our struggle together, that we will be able to overcome our prejudices and the hate that separates us, and thereby empower people of all races and faiths to become the one people God created us to be."

A Conversation with Mae Elise Cannon, Author of Beyond Hashtag Activism

Mae Elise Cannon/IV Press

Dr. Rev. Mae  Elise Cannon is an ordained pastor in the Evangelical Covenant Church (ECC). Her ministry and professional background includes serving as the Senior Director of Advocacy and Outreach for World Vision-US, the executive pastor of Hillside Covenant Church (Walnut Creek, California), and consultant to the Middle East for child advocacy issues for Compassion International. 

She earned doctorates in History (Ph.D) and Spiritual Formation (D. Min). Her Ph.D focused on American History with the minor in Middle Eastern studies from the University of California – Davis. Cannon’s Doctorate of Ministry in Spiritual Formation is from Northern Theological Seminary. Cannon holds an M.Div. From North Park Theological Seminary, an M.B.A. from North Park University’s School of Business and Nonprofit Management, and an M.A. in bioethics from Trinity International University. Cannon completed her Bachelor of Arts degree at the University of Chicago.


You have had a long career in advocacy work. Your book, BEYOND HASHTAG ACTIVISM: Comprehensive Justice in a Complicated Age, deals with effective advocacy. Could you give a definition of advocacy, and what that looks like?

Many people say advocacy is about speaking up for others. On the one hand, this is true; advocacy is about elevating the voices of those who are often marginalized and whose voices aren’t heard in mainstream or broader society. However, we must be attentive to the pitfalls of believing that we have the ability to ‘speak for those without a voice,’ as this presumes people are incompetent or unable to speak for themselves. We must be sensitive to protect other’s individual autonomy while also not being oppressive in our attempts to advocate on behalf of those who may be suffering as victims of injustice. (Beyond Hashtag Activism, p. 15)



In your, book, BEYOND HASHTAG ACTIVISM, you write: "The reality is that those who are the most buried and suffocated by oppression and injustice often don't have a choice about whether or not to engage. People of color don't have a choice about whether or not to engage in the realities of racism because they suffer from overt forms of oppression and microaggressions on a daily basis in white-dominant contexts... People living in poverty don't choose whether or not to care about economic realities because if they wrestle with the effects of poverty, they won't have food for their families. Women threatened with sexual violence don't have a choice about whether or not they should care about gender equality and justice...However, even in the midst of these gross injustices, oppressed communities are often the most profound places to find hope." How is it that hope is often found within oppressed communities?


I think sometimes those who experience the greatest pain, sorrow, suffering, and oppression know what true joy tastes like so much more than others who might be more privileged and less exposed to suffering. When a person has experienced deep and penetrating pain, somehow the moments when light breaks through the clouds seem so much more redemptive. One might argue the greater the suffering one experiences, the greater the opportunity for that person to experience joy. This type of joy was expressed in my conversation with Sidney Muisyo from Kenya. He talked about how the communities that are the most impoverished are often the ones full of the most unadulterated joy at the simple things in life like human connection and time with family and loved ones.


I'm intrigued by what you call prophetic advocacy, which you define as "includ[ing] both spiritual and practical methodologies of directly responding to injustices we witness in the world." Why is it important to include a spiritual dimension to advocacy work? And to what extent does the lack of prophetic advocacy damage the focus of white evangelicalism's advocacy efforts?

I write about this question a lot in my book Just Spirituality: How Faith Practices Fuel Social Action. One might ask - is there really a difference between secular and Christian advocacy? My response is YES! The spiritual dimension for those of us who choose to follow Jesus is where the fuel for our advocacy comes from. In a conversation recently with Rev. Dr. Otis Moss III we were talking about how to be sustained in the work of racial justice. He reminded me of the spiritual depth of heroes of the faith like Harriett Tubman, known as Momma Moses, who got her strength from her spiritual connection to God. With the atrocities she witnessed, her strength and fortitude were otherworldly and came from her connection to the divine through her spiritual beliefs and relationship with God.

Prophetic advocacy is painful and often penetrates the very heart of the lies that perpetuate injustice and privilege. In general, the advocacy efforts of white evangelicalism haven’t been willing to dismantle systemic issues of injustice like racism, sexism, and other sins. Rather white privilege and assumed supremacy have undergirded and upheld systems of injustice - making us (I am including myself intentionally in this confession) complicit in upholding racist systems.

You make the observation that: "Lament and repentance are necessary precursors to reconciliation. Too often, particularly within white communities, scriptures about being ministers of reconciliation (2 Cor 5) are used as an excuse to overlook individual and systemic racism. This does not mean that reconciliation should not be pursued. It just means that reconciliation must always be sought hand in hand with efforts towards justice." Especially given the recent Covid-19 situation, it seems like the world is in a position of lamenting, a lot. How do you think this unusual situation can actually help the advocacy process?


In many oppressed communities, one will hear the mantra “no reconciliation without justice.” Justice is about truth being told. Two parties or communities cannot be reconciled without truth. Thus justice and reconciliation must be both be pursued for either to truly come to fruition.

The realities of isolation and communities lamenting because of COVID19 definitely provide an opportunity for us to repent and “turn away” from our sinful past… however, we would be remiss to not acknowledge that COVID19 has and will continue to have a disproportionate effect on the most vulnerable. I wrote about that in this article published by the Christian Citizen and highlighted that the injustices and vulnerabilities that existed before COVID19 will only be further exacerbated as a result of this conflict.



In regards to the complex issue of immigration, you note that "the church has an opportunity to witness to the world about God's love, acceptance, kindness, hospitality and goodness through the way we welcome the refugee." And then you go on to tackle genocide. "Genocides around the world have long been instigated because of assumptions of racial or ethnic superiority... One of the only appropriate responses to these realities of brokenness, violence and evil within the church is to repent."  I'm curious if you see any connection between a seeming lack of compassion among the (white} evangelical American church and the assumption of superiority?

The Bible describes the situation when one lacks compassion and won’t turn from their evil ways as a “hardened heart.” Certainly, privilege and assumed superiority are ideologies that contributed to hardened hearts. We also see this in communities that have financial resources and wealth. When the rich are disconnected from the poor and do not have the opportunity to be in direct proximity to those who are suffering, they are able to ignore the suffering. This is part of why proximity is such a critical issue in terms of exposing all of us to communities who experience isolation.



I appreciate what you have to say about the thorny subject of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. You quote from a speech that Vice-President Mike Pence gave to the Israeli Knesset, in which he said that the U.S. stood with Israel because 'we stand with Israel because "we believe in right over wrong; in good over evil, and in liberty over tyranny. " You go on to make the point that "What specifically is problematic with this language? It seems to indicate that the 'good' Jewish state of Israel (note that 80 percent of Israeli citizens are Jewish and 20 percent are Arab Palestinians) should triumph over 'evil.' The assumption is that the evil' forces are Arab Muslims who [according to the US view] seek only destruction... What is problematic is the complete avoidance of any legitimacy of the same rights [aspiration to return to their homeland] for Palestinian Arabs." You then site some powerful statistics as to the number of Palestinian refugees and the apartheid-like hold that Israel has maintained over the Palestinians.  What, in your opinion can the U.S. do to improve its deteriorating influence as a peacemaker?


Turn course. The current Administration’s foreign policy is detrimental to peace in the Middle East. This includes Israel and the occupied Palestinian territories, but expands beyond to other parts of the Arab world as well. Even the former Secretary of Defense, General Mattis said if the realities of the Israeli occupation are not addressed the condition of the Palestinian territories will become apartheid. The Israeli Knesset is set to vote on the proposed annexation of parts of the West Bank in July. If annexation proceeds, which the current U.S. Administration supports, efforts toward a long term and just peace between Israelis and Palestinians will be obliterated. It is also important to acknowledge that preceding Administrations (both Democratic and Republican) have disproportionately favored the interests of the Israeli people, most of whom are Jews, over the aspirations of Palestinians. If we ever want justice, and a resolution to violent conflicts - the lives, human dignity, and aspirations of all people must be taken into account - without privileging one over the other. 



Is there anything else you'd like to mention?

Beyond Hashtag Activism was published the day after George Floyd’s death at the hands of the Minneapolis police. The book addresses police brutality, dismantling white supremacy and privilege, and calls us to stand in solidarity with #BlackLivesMatter and other movements that have been active for decades - if not centuries. I am so grateful for the many people who shared their stories and contributed to the book. And I am grateful to those who helped launch Beyond Hashtag Activism into the world at this pivotal moment. My hope and prayer is that the book will be a tool for the church as we seek and pursue beloved community. I hope people will read books by people of color first! But I also hope this book will be a resource for people who desire to dive deeply into research and theology about the many justice issues it addresses. I also would welcome people to listen to the accompanying #Activism podcast that interviews incredible Christian leaders like Rev. Dr. Otis Moss III, Presiding Bishop Michael Curry of The Episcopal Church, Rev. Dominique Gilliard, Nicole Morgan, and several others. 


For more information on Mae Elise Cannon, please click here.