It no longer seems in question that our national survival depends in part upon our collective ability to cross racial and ethnic boundaries. To honor diversity is a challenge that is increasingly on the minds, lips, and agendas of the church--and one that often seems, ironically, most difficult for those who share common ground as people of faith and members of the same gender, or those committed to peace and justice.
For some, the attempt to honor the traditions of others can lead not to respect but to exploitation. Members of the dominant culture--in most cases white Christians--are faced with the very real danger of co-opting the symbols of others as they seek to share the richness of different faith traditions.
The genuinely compelling experience of Native American ritual or African-American gospel can leave European Americans wanting more. The grace and strength and dignity in these traditions, born and nurtured out of suffering and filled with joy, celebration, and a bountiful appreciation of life, are often seen as mysterious and wonderful to outsiders.
But how much realistically and respectfully can be shared? Those who seek honestly to honor the heritage and culture of others must consider this question and look at how the desire even to participate genuinely in the traditions of others can and has become a source of oppression.
Marie Therese Archambault, O.S.F., a member of the Hunkpapa tribe of North Dakota, acknowledged the need of Native peoples to rediscover their own spirituality--and to claim the space they need to do so. "I've had experiences recently in finding myself at a very deep level through rituals," she said. "And I thought, 'Maybe I shouldn't tell [those who are not Native Americans], because if I do they'll all want to come.'"
To truly honor Native tradition and culture, those who are not Native American must always respect the times when rituals should remain the exclusive domain of their people. At other times, they must balance the reverent desire to experience such rituals with a personal accountability for committing the time and energy required to understand their significance.
"There is spirituality that we must look for in other people's traditions, not exploiting them but to learn from them," Korean theologian Chung Hyun-Kyung said. "I am vehement anytime people use Native American [spirituality] or transcendental meditation, and with this peace of mind [they] exploit us more--except that now [they] have a calmness of exploitation."
Rosemary Neave, coordinator of the Women's Resource Center of the Aukland (New Zealand) Diocese, said that the process of experiencing other people's faith and traditions should be a tool. "What we've got to do," Neave says, "is to encounter the difference and say, 'What does that teach me about me and my tradition? What can I pull out of and learn from my own tradition and experience?'"
RESPECT FOR DIVERSITY was the theme of the third conference of the Women-Church Convergence--a movement established in 1975 to address the needs of Catholic feminist women and their struggle to reform the institutional church. More than 2,400 women from 47 states and 16 countries met in Albuquerque in April, called by a vision that the threads of their diversity might be woven into a common fabric of "justice and peace in prayer and jubilation."
"I ask you...to be brave enough to talk about how we are different," said Maria Antoinetta Berriozaba, the conference's first plenary speaker and a community activist and former city council member in San Antonio. "It is so easy to talk about how we are the same, but then we never understand how we are different."
Not only is it easier to talk about what is shared among members of a group, but the knowledge that a significant connection exists often raises the expectations of those involved. This was true of the Women-Church gathering, as many of the women arrived holding hope and expectation like the hand of a new lover, living the moment of connection but wanting to believe that the moment would be a lasting source of healing and wholeness. The connection, however, did not necessarily mean that the women had the needed tools to dismantle the barriers of racism, misconception, language, and lifestyle.
As the women talked about themselves and their experiences, the words feminist (whites) or womanist (African Americans) or mujerista (Chicanas) were spoken. Some common spirit exists among these words, but in reality and practice the agendas of such groups are not the same.
In the church a similar tension exists. The challenge is to know one's own agenda, and then to cooperate with diverse parties in the process of developing a corporate agenda--and not merely pay lip service to diversity with token symbols or people. One Latina woman said that she knows immediately upon coming into a gathering if the voice of Latinas has been incorporated into the process or if it was requested as an afterthought in an effort to be politically correct around the issue of diversity.
The truth is that these many voices need to be heard. Scriptural and theological interpretation has been limited because the voices of women and others have been suppressed. Women now face the challenge of not silencing one another; they face the genuine struggle of honoring diversity by helping to nurture and raise up the great strengths of their vast experience.
Jamillah Muhammad, one of the first black Muslim women to be nationally known outside the Nation of Islam as a feminist and ardent civil rights activist, spoke to this kind of "violence" among women. "In our relationships with our sisters who are lesbian, we need to consider that some of us stand dangerously close to being the perpetrators of the same emotional violence that continues to oppress us today," Muhammad said. "And we need to engage it right where it started, in the institutional church."
WHETHER SUBTLE or overt, conscious or not, racism and intolerance as well as co-opting the symbols of others are basic issues that confront the church and the community of faith. How can people of faith maintain their necessary concentration and focus and at the same time not silence the voice of some person or group? A particular kind of tenacity is required to remain faithful to such complicated questions and struggles.
When people gather together from the various parts of the church, what often becomes clear is that the expectations of healing and inclusion--on the part of participants--and the goal of developing a program that sufficiently incorporates many diverse voices--on the part of the organizers--are very difficult to meet. Although the Women-Church conference planning committees were comprised of and led by women from varied racial and ethnic groups, the success of their efforts to genuinely honor differences was limited.
In the closing hour of the conference, women began to take the stage and speak to their concerns about feeling "invisible" or "silenced" throughout the weekend. "There has been a veneer of sincerity and openness," one woman said. "The racism has been so subtle--and that is what is so dangerous."
These words are not unfamiliar. Too often our best efforts to come together leave people feeling alienated or attacked or both. It is from the critical moments of pain and frustration that the recommitment to the work of honoring diversity and seeking justice must emerge. All those involved in the dialogue bear responsibility to see it forward.
For members of the dominant culture, the task will include listening, responding to constructive criticism, and remaining committed to the process. For members of minority communities, the task will include remaining patient even while refusing to compromise the desire for justice, keeping a realistic sense of the long-term nature of the struggle, and, again, staying in the process--despite temptations to give up.
"We must recognize that the greatest gift that we can bring, as women, to our communities," Berriozába said, "is how we learned to work together across social, political, racial, and economic lines."
It is no less the challenge of our churches and communities of faith to bring this kind of healing to our fragmented society and to the world community. We must lift up the pockets of courage and creativity where people are risking failure, backlash, frustration, and heartache in an effort to engage with others across the lines that have so long divided us.
One woman compared the work of genuinely embracing and honoring diversity to the process of giving birth--an undertaking with no small amount of pain and joy--that, in its ending, marks a beginning.
Elizabeth Holler was coordinator of communications and grant funding development of Sojourners when this article appeared.
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