When people learn that I, a white male, have authored a book on the history of African American soul care (Beyond the Suffering)and that I am now working on a book on the history of women’s soul care (Sacred Friendships), they look at me oddly. As if to say, “What’s up with that!?”
What is up with that?
It is how God wired me.
I can remember when Richard Hatcher was elected as the first African American mayor of a city over 100,000. I said, “I hope he becomes president some day.” I was about ten at the time. My words were not well received by those around me.
I can remember when Neil Armstrong landed on the moon. I wrote a poem in sixth grade entitled “Sea of Tranquility.” It was about racial harmony.
I can remember my best friend in high school, Rauol Navvaro. At the time, I didn’t even think of him as “Hispanic.”
Yes, I think that God hard-wired me, that He put into my DNA a passion for giving voice to the voiceless.
Unfortunately, most of history has been written by the “victors”: by the powerful, by the oppressors. The “victims” have rarely had their stories told. The oppressed rarely have a voice–at least not a voice that is recorded for all posterity.
Yet, Jesus came to “release the oppressed” (Luke 4:18). As I worked on the book on African American soul care, and now as I work on women’s soul care, I become so excited by what I find. The voice of the oppressed is being heard. And, through these two books, it will be shared.
I consider the books a gift to and a gift from. A gift to women and African Americans as they are able to celebrate the tremendous legacy of soul care and spiritual direction left by their forebears. And a gift from women and African Americans because they have so much to teach all of us about moving beyond suffering to healing, and about the sacredness of friendships.
