Contact February 2025

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Carlos Ramirez Director of Communications

Communications Ministry Staff

Jena Barber Editor of Publications

Andrew Himes

Multimedia and Web Ministry

Tabitha Beckman Communications Specialist

Publication Credits

Cover photo and feature graphics: Deposit Photos

Stories and layout by Jena Barber

A note on capitalization: We chose to capitalize the word Black when using it to refer to someone’s race, and not to capitalize the word white. This is in line with our use of the Associated Press (AP) Style.

“Peace is not something you wish for; it is something you make, something you are, something you do, and something you give away.”
-Robert Fulghum

The Contact, a publication of the OKUMC Connection (USPS 954-500) is published monthly by The Oklahoma Conference of The United Methodist Church, 1501 NW 24th St., Oklahoma City, OK 73106. Periodical postage paid at Oklahoma City, OK.

POSTMASTER: Send address changes to “The Contact OKUMC”, 1501 NW 24th St., Oklahoma City, OK 73106.

from the editor

While preparing for this month’s issue, I came across a few opportunities to learn more about anti-racism - and to do something to help.

First, I found out about a study - and a bookcalled Our Hearts Were Strangely Lukewarm. The book is by Rev. John Elford, a retired United Methodist pastor. He focuses on the white supremacist history of the Methodist Church and the work white people should be doing to help fight racism. From the book: “But here’s the thing - undoing racism is not up to people of color. It’s not their responsibility to take on the burden of guiding white people into the light.”

Though John Wesley wrote extensively in opposition to slavery, and though people engaged in the slave trade were originally not allowed to become members of the Methodist Church, the denomination began to compromise and plummet down a slippery slope into complicity and, eventually, a church split.

This was more than a surprise to me. I joined the United Methodist Church as a high school kid, basking in the love and light of the denomination’s acceptance, openmindedness, and love for all of creation. I was drawn in by progressive ideals and strong messaging about inclusion.

The General Committee on Religion and Race created a study with Elford’s book as the center. Find the book and the study here.

We were inspired to ask other white people for help in this issue by serving as guides. With that thought in the back of our minds, we also wanted to center the voices of our African American sisters and brothers. We think we’ve included a good mix of voices in this issue.

Additionally, I was blessed to participate in an online Bystander Intervention Training, hosted

by CAIR Oklahoma. In that training, I learned that I can use my white voice to stand up for others.

According to presenter Veronica Laizure, “non-Black people are more likely to listen to someone of their same race when they call out anti-Blackness.” She went on to add that this works with all subgroups - gender, race, income status, and more.

The training taught simple tips for helping someone who is being bullied in public. I recalled a moment in a parking lot, when I saw a man verbally assaulting a woman. Unthinkingly, I yelled, “Hey!”

That’s literally all it took to make the man walk away. Was I really doing something good? With one syllable and an exclamation point in my voice?

For the first few decades of my life, my greatest fear was confrontation. I was, in the parlance of my middle school mind, a “wuss.” I can’t lift 100 pounds or physically fight an attacker. Let’s face it; I can be felled by cake that has gluten in it or a too-warm room. I’m not going to get hired as a bodyguard any time soon.

But surprisingly, I can still be a protector. Using my words, my presence, and - if need be - my phone, I can save someone’s life - or at the very least, save their heart from yet another act of verbal aggression.

To learn more about bystander intervention, click here.

Regardless of where you stand on the state of racism in the United States today, I encourage you to read each of the stories in this issue and prayerfully consider what you can do to fight racism in all its forms.

by Rev. Dr. Bessie Hamilton

Peacemaking Through Anti-Racism: A Call to Action

February always fills my heart with gratitude and reflection. It is a month when I am reminded that I stand on the shoulders of my ancestors, whose resilience and sacrifices paved the way for me. During this time, I feel most seen, receiving invitations to share my culture and experiences without hesitation or fear of rejection. Yet, I long for this sense of visibility and celebration to extend beyond these 28–29 days.

Too often, the weight of stereotypes, cold stares, exclusion, and the divisive political climate causes me to lament. I find myself asking: Why can’t love and understanding guide us every day? As Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. once said, “True peace is not merely the absence of tension; it is the presence of justice”. This truth inspires me to remain hopeful and embrace the sacred work of peacemaking.

that perpetuate division. In the Oklahoma Conference of the United Methodist Church, we are embracing this journey by exploring what it means to engage in anti-racism work as a vital step toward true peace. Peacemakers are bridgebuilders. They remind us that peace is not merely the absence of conflict but the active pursuit of justice, equity, and reconciliation.

This February, as we reflect on the theme of peacemaking, we are reminded that peace is a proactive effort to create harmony in our communities, rooted in equity and mutual respect. For those of us in the Church, this work is deeply spiritual—an extension of our calling to love God and love our neighbors as ourselves.

Peacemaking is a journey that calls us to confront not only the external conflicts of our world but also the internal biases and systems

This leads me to four critical aspects of peacemaking and anti-racism work: personal responsibility, peacemaking as a spiritual practice, steps toward peace, and a vision for the future.

One of the key messages we hope to share this month is the importance of taking personal responsibility for anti-racism work. Too often, the burden of addressing racism falls disproportionately on people of color. This dynamic is not only unjust but also counterproductive to the transformative work God calls us to do as a Church.

The General Commission on Religion and Race (GCORR) study, Our Hearts Were Strangely Lukewarm, provides a powerful framework for understanding how racism operates within our institutions and ourselves. The book challenges readers to confront uncomfortable truths about privilege, bias, and complicity while encouraging us to take meaningful steps toward change.

As we study this resource together, we invite everyone in our Conference to engage with the material personally and intentionally. This is not a task to delegate or avoid but an opportunity to grow in faith and discipleship.

Peacemaking as a Spiritual Practice

Peacemaking through anti-racism is a spiritual practice. It requires humility, courage, and a willingness to listen deeply to voices that have been silenced or marginalized. It means asking hard questions, repenting of past wrongs, and committing to a new way of being in the world.

This work is not easy, but it is holy. It reflects the example of Jesus, who consistently sought out those on the margins and challenged systems of oppression. As followers of Christ, we are called to do the same—to be peacemakers in a world that desperately needs reconciliation.

Steps Toward Peace

As we move forward, here are some practical ways to engage in the work of anti-racism:

1. Educate Yourself:

Read books, attend workshops, and seek out resources like the GCORR study. Understanding the history and impact of racism is essential to

addressing it.

2. Build Relationships

Seek authentic connections with people from different racial and cultural backgrounds. Listen to their stories and experiences with an open heart.

3. Advocate for Change

Use your voice and influence to challenge discriminatory policies and practices in your church, community, and beyond.

4. Reflect and Repent

Take time for self-reflection. Acknowledge your own biases and commit to ongoing growth and transformation.

A Vision for the Future

Imagine a Church where every member is actively engaged in the work of anti-racism. Imagine communities where justice and equity are not just ideals but lived realities. This is the vision we are striving toward—a vision of peace that honors the dignity and worth of all God’s children.

As we embrace this work together, let us remember that peacemaking is not a destination but a journey. It is a path we walk daily, guided by faith, hope, and love.

We encourage everyone in the Oklahoma Conference to join us in this sacred work. Let us be peacemakers, not only in word but in action, building a world that reflects the justice and love of Christ.

Let us make February not just a month of reflection but a season of transformation. Together, we can do the work that leads to peace.

As Maya Angelou so powerfully reminds us: “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better”.

Martin Luther King Jr Day 2025

We Shall Overcome

Jacqueline Deveraux leads the congregation and the choir in a soaring rendition of We Shall Overcome.

Watch it by clicking on the photo to the left.

We Are At a Crossroads

Rev. Joseph W. Daniels Jr., lead pastor at Emory UMC in Washington, DC, challenges congregants to make a choice between chaos and community.

Watch it by clicking on the photo to the left.

Lord I’m Trusting

The MLK Day Choir, an ensemble composed of multiple church choirs, praises with the uplifting verses of Lord I’m Trusting.

Watch it by clicking on the photo to the left.

The ministry of reconciliation

The apostle Paul wrote in 2 Corinthians 5: 17-20 that it was important that we conduct ourselves always as Christ ambassadors. He says that one way we do this is through the various ministries we all are called to. One of those ministries is the Ministry of Reconciliation. This requires a lifestyle of love and grace to all you encounter no matter the circumstance you find yourself in. Having been one of the few African American clergy person, to have traveled his entire career in the Oklahoma Annual Conference, from associate, senior pastor, district superintendent, general secretary, and assistant to the Bishop, it has been quite a journey.

I encountered racism at each position both overtly and silently. At the same time at each level there were many who were encouraging, supportive and open to growing beyond their prejudices. I learned early in this journey to assume everyone had their best intention for me, unless they proved otherwise. In addition, I learned that my calling in ministry was not to react to everything I thought might be a slap against me but to participate as much as I could in the part of my ministry that calls for reconciliation with everyone I encounter (is that not what Paul was saying to the Corinthians?)

of how we conduct ourselves as ‘the people called Methodist’ to celebrate our ministries together and look forward to our ministries in the coming year. I conducted communion with the senior pastor at many of these churches.

At one particular church we were holding communion by intinction offering two lines for people to come and participate in. We were getting to the last person in the line to take communion and I had one lady left in my line, the senior pastor had a couple. The woman seemed to freeze for a moment before she proceeded to come forward. I gave here the bread she dipped it in the cup and as was my practice, I asked if there was anything I could pray with her about. She told me about her husband who was nearly on his death bed, so we prayed together and she went back to her seat. We concluded the conference and the Pastor and I felt it all went well.

One of the many examples of this occurred when I was a district superintendent. My charge conferences were always centered around worship to remind everyone that they were not simply in a business session, but part

Several weeks later the pastor called me and to tell me of a remarkable conversation he had just had with the last lady in my line whose husband I had prayed with her about. He said she was very emotional but had to talk to him about what happened. First, she said that when she found herself being the last one in line to take communion from the Black superintendent, all of a sudden all the racial stuff from her past came flooding into her thoughts. She hesitated at first and was tempted to go over to the senior pastor’s line. Thoughts about having a Black man touch her,

Rev. Dr. Joe Harris serves communion with Rev. Dr. Bert Potts.

offer bread he had broken off to her and pray with her, were just not things she grew up believing should happen.

She came forward anyway and began her ministry of reconciliation without me ever knowing at that point. But that wasn’t even the celebration part of the story. She was praising God for the healing that took place with her husband after our prayer together. They went to his doctor’s appointment and found out the tumor that he had had shrunk changing his diagnosis to a positive outlook for his health!

There are several other examples I could state that happened at other conferences with people who gave their lives to Christ, joined the church, baptisms and churches willing to pay their full apportionments for the first time (the district paid out 100 percent three straight years, 90 percent for two years prior

to that).

The point I want to make is if I had not approached everyone in a reconciliation attitude I would have been judging people on my experiences, not their potential for the kingdom. Forgiving and lovingly pointing people to Christ is every Christian’s ministry no matter what the circumstance we find ourselves in.

8 Ways Church Leaders Can Move the Conversation Forward

from the General Committee on Religion & Race (GCORR)

1. Preach and teach about the sin of racism. United Methodist doctrine, moral and social teaching, and theological teachings clearly denounce racism as sin. Reiterate those historical teachings and stances in worship and all aspects of church life, including personal policies, worship design, and Christian education. No equivocation. Lead discussions in Bible study and church school classes on how Christians must understand and engage faithful anti-racism.

2. Denounce false notions of “two equal sides.” Talking about racism—personal and systemic—is often uncomfortable, particularly for white Christians, and the tendency often is to frame it as mere “disagreement” or dislike “among” two “sides” of an equitable society. However, all systems or teachings that assert that one race, language, or culture of people are less than sacred and worthy reflections of God’s creation is not a “side.” It is sin, and Christians must renounce.

3. Be present for honorable police officers and victims of rogue cops. People of Color will die, and good officers of all colors will be under-equipped to do their jobs effectively as long as racism is embedded in our systems. Victims of rogue police violence and the police officers who are trying to protect and serve all need the church’s tangible and ongoing prayers, presence, witness, and support.

4. Read a book, then act on it. Read books on anti-racism, Christian witness, and reform, then invite reflection and real-world experts to talk with you about what is happening in your community. Get your group or yourself involved with Churches of Color and with community groups active in positive action. A cluster of Chicago churches, for example, joined with local police officers to host town halls where church members and other residents—including formerly incarcerated persons—discuss how to

improve police-community relations and more effective anti-racism training for beat cops.

5. Embrace the pain and risk the discomfort. Imagine a quarterly worship service dedicated to lamentation and crying, fasting and praying against racism, and for truth justice-making and reconciliation. In confronting white U.S. Christian complicity with racism, create opportunities for people to speak their own fears and pain, and to humbly confess and talk. Giving one’s self more fully to God for spiritual renewal can lead to personal and church-wide transformation.

6. Make space for white people to struggle together. Out of necessity, many People of Color in the United States find support through their own faith communities to survive and foster resilience living under the siege of racism. Likewise, white churches seeking to confront and dismantle racism must become positive, healing places where Christians can challenge outdated racial assumptions, ask hard questions, encourage and pray with one another, and decide together how to become more effective in dismantling racism.

7. Believe People of Color when they tell their stories. A giant step toward repair and healing is for white people—who collectively hold the most social power in our nation—to listen to, learn from, believe, and validate the experiences of People of Color. White Christians practicing an anti-racism faith must move from ignoring, excusing, and denying racism systems to dismantling them in concert with People of Color.

8. Work for true social justice through the lens of faith. Welcoming the stranger; Respecting all languages, skin colors, and cultures; Caring for the immigrant and orphan; Standing with those marginalized because of economic or social location; Rolling down justice. Each of these is a biblical imperative, lived out and modeled by Jesus Christ, our Savior. Make talking about, praying for, and working for racial justice an expression of your individual and corporate faith practice.

“Blessed are the peacemakers.”

“Blessed are the peacemakers.”

What does it mean to be a peacemaker?

Recently, I had the opportunity to take my son, a high school senior, to explore the “Disneyland of American History” in Virginia—visiting Williamsburg, Yorktown, and Jamestown. It was at Jamestown, the site of the first permanent English settlement in America, where we learned about the complex and often painful relationships

between the early settlers and Native Americans. Initially, these interactions were grounded in fear. But over time, both groups began to offer hospitality to one another, with the settlers receiving knowledge of the land and its resources from the natives. Yet, after enduring two years of extreme hardship and near starvation, the settlers began to see the Native Americans as “others.” This shift, born of desperation, led to violence as fear and dehumanization took root.

The “Others”

My father, a Vietnam War veteran, once shared with me how his training in 1968 involved the systematic dehumanization

Israel Weber, Jason Bush, and Daniel Ruhl of Kingfisher UMC work on a house with Habitat for Humanity, a favorite cause of President Jimmy Carter.
Matthew 5:9

of the Vietnamese people. This mindset, ingrained in him during his service, shaped his actions in ways that still haunted him long after the war. The deep scars of dehumanizing “the other” are a dark thread woven through both human history and American experience. Sadly, this mindset still shapes the world today in subtle and overt ways.

As I write this, President Jimmy Carter is being laid to rest. While opinions of his presidency may differ, there is no question that his post-presidential work had a lasting impact. Carter, alongside his wife Rosalynn, was a tireless advocate for others, spearheading initiatives like Habitat for Humanity, mental health awareness, and global peacemaking. When I visited his presidential library earlier this year, I learned that his outlook on life was deeply influenced by his childhood on a family farm in rural Georgia. It was there that he interacted with children who didn’t look like him, yet he felt accepted, safe, and cared for. These early experiences of grace and hospitality shaped the way he viewed others throughout his life. The faith and values that grounded both Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter were the compass by which they navigated a life of service and peacemaking.

Reflective, Not Reactive

In my own journey as a minister and now as a therapist, I’ve been trained in cultural sensitivity. Despite having the theoretical tools, I am constantly aware of my own failures—those moments when I react with microaggressions, often born from impatience, quick judgments, frustration, or distrust. These moments reflect a lack of groundedness, and I know that I have a responsibility, both to myself and to others, to engage with the world from a place of peace.

One of the practices that has helped me shift from being reactive to being reflective is mindfulness prayer. In these quiet moments, I ask God to grant me clarity, awareness, and

compassion—not only for others but also for myself. This practice centers me, helping me attune to the suffering around me and become deliberate in my actions, always striving to cause no harm.

In a world that often feels volatile and quick to react, peacemaking takes intention. I don’t believe the world is all that different from the one into which Jesus spoke the words, “Blessed are the peacemakers.” What did Jesus mean by these words?

Jesus and Peacemaking

I believe Jesus was calling us to seek wholeness and well-being for all.

Peacemaking isn’t just about ending conflict; it’s about seeing the other person, acknowledging their humanity, and working toward reconciliation where there is brokenness. Conflict is an inevitable part of the human experience, but how do we, as individuals, seek to resolve it? How do we work toward authentic and harmonious relationships with our families, churches, friends, coworkers, strangers, and—just as importantly—with ourselves?

Peace With Ourselves

Perhaps we could begin with the least threatening place: peace with ourselves. What if we started with an inner dialogue where we approach ourselves with curiosity instead of judgment? What if we allowed the grace that we seek from Jesus to be the very grace we extend to others? What if we no longer saw anyone as “the other” but as a brother or sister? What if we refused to turn a blind eye to suffering and instead became committed to restoration, wherever and however we can?

As Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. once prayed, “Lord, help us to work for that peace, for that reconciliation that we so desperately need.” In this work of peacemaking, we join not only with Jesus, but with all those throughout history who have sought to heal the brokenness of our world.

We United Methodists are not particularly known for our emphasis on “the end times.” We may associate these types of messages with an evangelical preacher under a tent in a revival. Furthermore, the “end times” bring images of judgment, calamities, and disaster. The “end times” are not typically associated with a “happy ending.” Perhaps a reason is that books like Daniel or Revelation give us plenty of scary imagery and just glimpses of “good

news.” Or maybe another reason is that pop culture has told and retold stories of the end of civilization as we know it: planet of the apes, zombie apocalypse movies or TV shows, pandemics, war, destruction of the planet, etc.

Yet, an argument can be made that in the Christian tradition the “end of all things” is actually something to look forward to and hope for. The “end of all,” if we stop and think about it, means that God’s hope for us (humanity and creation) has been completed. It means that all creation has been redeemed. It means that sin exists no more. Evil has been defeated. The light has prevailed. The “end

of everything” is a place where “death will be no more; where there will be no mourning, crying, or pain anymore, for the former things have passed away” (Rev. 21:4). The “end of everything” is not meant to be scary. The “end of everything” means that God’s dream for us has been fully realized.

I will argue that the process to get to the “end of things” does not have to be scary either. Jesus gave us the roadmap to work alongside God in order to achieve God’s dream for us. “Happy are people who make peace, because they will be called God’s children” (Mt. 5:9 CEB). Many of Jesus’ words can be understood as something to apply in the present that have a huge repercussion in the future. In order for the “end of things” to arrive or for God’s dream fully realized, we are called to be agents of reconciliation. We are called to be menders of relationships. We are called to be bridge-makers. We are called to take upon ourselves the yoke of our Lord and to exercise the same gentleness Christ exercised.

Race relations continue to be a stumbling block for our country. The “latest war” raging is that of identity. Who we say we are determines how we are going to be treated and “our place” in society. The economic reality for many families (low wages, high prices, debt, etc.) adds pressure to a society whose bonds are stretched maybe beyond thin.

Thus we are left with the choice to lean on the anger and division, to put our trust in politicians and/ or celebrities that use this division to further their own cause; and to be on a “righteous crusade” to show how wrong the others are (whoever the others are).

The Sermon on the Mount is a sermon on “the end of things.” Jesus was calling his disciples and first audience to extend a hand instead of a fist. To forgive instead of holding a grudge. To mend instead of reap apart. To be people who make peace is one of the ways in which God is bringing all to the completion.

Now, making peace nowadays is not a simple feat. With the political and social rhetoric dialed to the max, it is hard for a gentle voice of peace to be heard among the screams of anger and even hate.

Or we can be peace-makers. We can choose to be the gentle whisper God uses to repair what is broken. We can show mercy and forgiveness and break the cycle of retribution and vengeance. We can acknowledge our own shortcomings and ask for forgiveness. We can be an instrument of peace: where there is hatred, we can sow love; where there is injury, we can pardon; where there is doubt, we can show faith; where there is despair, we can be filled of hope; where there is darkness, we can irradiate God’s light; and where there is sadness, we can bring the joy Christ has given to us.

I don’t know about you, but I am looking forward to “the end of things.” I am looking forward to the new heaven and the new earth. I am looking forward to the full realization of God’s dream for us. That dream starts with us making peace.

Rev. Carlos Ramirez

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My experience as a Black pastor in Oklahoma

Coming to Oklahoma and the United Methodist Church was a blessing. I grew up in South Louisiana and certain preachers and people in the church made me feel that God was only angry and wanted to punish me.

This experience in my childhood drew me away from the church; however, when I started attending Oklahoma Panhandle State, God was working to bring me back to the church. When I entered the UMC at Panhandle Centenary in Goodwell, Oklahoma, that was the first time I felt the love of God in a congregation in a long time.

As I have served as a pastor who is a Black man my experience has been mostly pleasant. Many of my appointments have fully embraced my family and I with love and acceptance. Although, there were a few stops along the journey where not everyone in the congregation accepted me and in time the reason for this disapproval was revealed to be because of the color of my skin.

and it did hurt me deeply. These encounters with racism did lead me to question my call and ask why does this sort of hate exist in the church?

Growing up in Louisiana I did experience racism often but a part of me hoped this would not be a part of my experience in Oklahoma. Unfortunately, it did happen more than once,

In each of these scenarios God drove out the hate with love and affirmed my call. Also, I remembered that my parents taught me to not allow people’s hatred and false labels they place on me to determine who I am. Remember who God says I am and become undeniable by treating others with love and excelling in this calling.

Situations like these reveal that we as a church and society still have work to do in loving each other as Christ does especially those who look different than us. Regardless through the years God has affirmed my call and no amount of hate I face will change that. Furthermore, I believe I am called serve as a Pastor in Oklahoma and serve an active role in helping us set aside hatred, other divisions, and love each other like Christ does.

Confessions of a White Pastor

In 2014, I was asked to co-pastor a church in a neighborhood of no ethnic majority and speaking multiple languages. With a Latino clergyperson, together we tried to assist a 50-year-old predominantly white congregation become more welcoming of their neighbors. I accepted the appointment with excitement

and confidence: surely my experiences with cross-cultural ministry and living overseas qualified me to lead a willing, hardworking monocultural church to embrace one of the most culturally diverse regions in Oklahoma.

But this wasn’t enough. The task proved too great for all of us.

The aging congregation struggled to understand English spoken with an accent. We had even greater difficulty learning Spanish. Better awareness and education of cultures only complicated things (“You mean we may need different programs for Guatemalans than for Mexicans?”). Immigration and deportation were major challenges impacting the elementary school and their families with which we worked, but church discussions of this topic too often led into political rhetoric rather than deeper Bible study and prayer.

No matter how hard we worked at it, we could not prevent church members and even the denomination from giving greater respect to the white co-pastor and only rarely to its Latino copastor. The congregation became more and more disillusioned as they saw little progress in the midst of growing existential challenges. We soon resettled into our former identity as a small aging white protestant church.

church “race relations.”

This project and its curriculum, however, turned out to be yet another failure. When tested, some participants using my curriculum actually increased rather than decreased their racial biases. Persons were more likely to look for the ideas that confirmed their preexisting beliefs while ignoring the alternatives offered. The classroom also made a poor confessional: the setting wasn’t safe enough to allow someone to be fully honest with others. Some said they attended the class because they just wanted to stay a part of their Sunday class; the topic was unimportant to them, so they never engaged the content or the process. I was encouraged that most persons said they learned more about the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre and now considered it important, but few were able to identify any connections between their city’s history and culture and their current attitudes toward persons of color.

What had gone wrong? Where had I gone wrong in my leadership? In order to think in fresh ways about this, I turned to the unique story of Oklahoma’s Black history and the present Greenwood community of north Tulsa. I enrolled in a doctoral program at Phillips Theological Seminary and started a project: “Using Holy Conversations to Reduce Racial Bias in Predominantly White Churches.” The heart of this project offered congregations an eight-session curriculum of “Holy Conversations” centered around the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre. Three local churches piloted my completed curriculum. I felt hopeful that what I had learned and produced could make a positive difference in improving

I guess I should’ve known better. Psychologist Calvin Lai and his colleagues say that almost all attempts to change someone’s intrinsic beliefs will probably not be successful, or at best will require a combination of many different interventions. And these interventions have to be in place before any kind of small group curriculum is likely to be successful.

One “intervention” is for those of us who are White congregants to take a kind of Al Anon “Step Four” - that is, “a searching and fearless moral inventory” of our own personal and communal history of cultural privilege and power. Being more honest with our attitudes

Rev. Thomas Hoffman

and behaviors helps us begin to change the ones we don’t like.

The most effective change strategies we know of include people of color and whites joining together in common ministry or community service. These projects must be mutual in design and execution, and the white congregation must resist its cultural impulse to be in charge. Pulpit exchanges are also a great first step for white and predominantly non-white congregations to begin to become acquainted.

Lai and colleagues say that the most significant reductions in race-based bias happen when day-to-day life is more closely shared across racial, ethnic, and economic lines. Did you know that housing restrictions based on ethnicity and income have remained relatively unchanged since the Civil War? This means many white congregants will have to identify opportunities at work and their children’s schools for making acquaintances with those who may never be able to live next door to them.

Finally, the most long-lasting changes will happen when we address the larger systems of power and influence. It’s not enough just to work on ourselves or even within our local congregations, although that’s where we must start. Rather, we must also become Christian advocates for a more substantial, justicebased, prophetic, and anti-racist society. We must become public champions of a robust and widespread vital common ground of civil life. There is something that each one of us can do. Psychologist Philip Zimbardo (think “Stanford Prison Experiment”) confirms a Jewish belief of two co-equal but opposite ethical impulses that are always fighting for our attention. At any moment, he says, we can either succumb to the “banality of evil” or the “banality of heroism.” Zimbardo says that “we are all potential heroes waiting for a moment in life to perform a heroic deed.”

To be heroes, we must

• become more aware of things in this life are not right;

• not back down during conflict, but use conflict to compassionately explore each other’s different ideas with a sense of curiosity, not defense;

• understand how a present course of action has been influenced by the past and then consider the ways it might impact the future if left unchanged;

• resist fear, which results in moral paralysis on the one hand and the justification of evil actions on the other; and,

• act on the best of our beliefs without regard to the cost. In other words, if we know something is good and right, then we should do that good and right thing— no matter the consequences.

The Judeo-Christian tradition teaches that when we engage in righteous thought and action, we do so accompanied by the Spirit who gifts us and empowers us to be heroic. Breaking down the walls of partiality is hard and uncertain work, but there is so much in history that tells us we can be successful. I am very grateful for the story of Peter in Acts 10, which chronicles in detail the moment he faces the sinfulness of his prejudice, and then his commitment to starting over again, with the Holy Spirit—and new friends from a culture, language, and ethnicity not his own—leading the way into God’s future.

Proximity Will Change Us

Attorney and author of Just Mercy Bryan Stevenson, on the PBS Newshour, proposes the idea that proximity will change us. Actually he says, it will break us— break us open to see the needs of this world and fill us with a yearning for redemption, reconciliation, and repair.

Stevenson put forward a theological reality I had not named. God desires transformation for our world and calls each of us to do God’s work of redemption, reconciliation, and repair. Stevenson pointed out our yearning for change comes from proximity to pain.

So we need to place ourselves in the proximity of pain and listen. I am guessing most churchpeople will say, of course, we know this and have done this in our lives. But I would like to suggest this is something we need to do again and again. In fact, we need to practice this level of listening as a spiritual discipline. So may this serve as a time to recommit ourselves to vigilantly seek out uncomfortable places and be open to the pain in front of us.

As the pastor of a church, I get the opportunity to talk with a lot of people in need. One day, an unhoused man came to the church. I asked him questions and learned he was trying to navigate an application for disability. I connected him with an attorney in our church who has worked on disability cases for 30 years. She helped him understand the process and realize his application was not going forward. This was new information to this man. He came to the understanding that he would move forward and seek out employment. As I sat in close proximity to these conversations, I was struck by the complexity of our

systems. It is difficult to advocate for one’s self and be successful in the bureaucracy. It is even harder if you do not have a consistent address or phone number.

When we are in close proximity to people’s problems, we are given the opportunity to grow our compassion and hone our calling in the world. Stevenson says we will be given a yearning for a better world. That is God calling me toward redemption. I needed to feel the difficulty of working through our systems. For all the times, I had simply thought “they” should use the resources available or “they” need to solve their own problems, I now see the barriers inhibiting progress. Maybe my help is needed to navigate the complex systems of our world.

Every person we encounter has something to teach us, if we are willing to go deep enough to learn the lesson. I know we can’t walk around seeking proximity and depth every minute of the day, but I bet we can be more intentional. This is work for our souls. As I seek out God, my calling, and my passion, God will break open my heart with the stories I need to hear.

Click the Play button to see why Bryan Stephenson fights for incarcerated people on “Brief But Spectacular” on PBS Newshour.

How I do the work of anti-racism in my own life

My dad was a United Methodist pastor. He engaged in pulpit exchanges with African American churches in small town appointments in the 1960s. When desegregation came to OKC, he and at least seven other UMC pastors willingly sent their kids to Northeast High School, which was predominantly Black.

The Oklahoma Conference also brought Clara Luper to our Youth Legislative Affairs seminar and other speaking engagements. Integration of music and faith and leadership with Black and white together enriched my life and set me on a course of diversity. My parents were supportive of the school administration, active in PTA, and the principal, Melvin Todd, enlisted my dad to preach at Baccalaureate.

I was in a singing group that performed at Urban League, the Oklahoma Legislature, and NAACP community events all over the city. Our school marched to the Capital steps to support school millage taxes so that OKC schools would not be closed. Many went door to door with OCU students to enlist voters to support…and succeeded in keeping schools open.

Personal and professional

As I selected a college, I looked at the racial make-up of enrollment. In seminary, I learned from minority students how to be worship

leaders together. My family asked for and received appointments of churches with African American membership. We included the name “Martin” in one of our son’s baptized names.

We recruited Black and Hispanic babysitters for our sons. I co-directed youth camp with an African American pastor and we together recruited one-third each of Black, Hispanic and white counselors, knowing all youth need role models that look like them, and not like them.

I attended two classes on race while still in active ministry. The second one was hosted by the Tulsa District, and it was based on the book “Witnessing Whiteness.” Our conference Church and Society committee hosted two Race Retreats called “Get on the Bus”.

And there were also two Progressive Retreats on Race Relations. One of these included panels from the Hispanic church, a panel from OIMC, and one from Quayle UMC. The Quayle panel was asked, “How does it feel to be African American in Oklahoma, and in the United Methodist Church?”

There was a silence. Then one member said, ”Do you really want to know?” And she began to cry.

That was a moment I will never forget. Did I really want to know if the answer was not positive? (It was 2010 and we had a Black bishop and a Black president. Surely, that was positive!) Did I really want to know if there was still injustice and second-class treatment?

So before we attend or read or enter into a discussion of race, we need to be ready for hard discussions. Do we really want to know? Can we sit in the truth that others share that is centuries long and has been true over and over?

At each of these events I learned about my own ignorance and mistakes I’d made in leadership, which no one had pointed out to me.

Our church had a 13week study of the Tulsa Race Massacre. We began receiving a special offering on one Sunday a month for reparations. The funds were dispersed to different churches, schools, theater groups, health clinics and food pantries in the Greenwood area. The letter we sent let them know we wished to acknowledge history, make amends, and be seen as their neighbors.

Several years ago at Annual Conference, Church and Society also presented every church with a small poster of Jesus that was a man of color, and a baby doll for the nursery that was a baby of color. One of the lay members tried to give the doll back, saying they didn’t have any children in the church.

Black churches. It was wonderful! Some were Methodist. Many weren’t.

I also became a docent for the John Hope Franklin (JHF) Center, and I still give tours of Greenwood and Reconciliation Park. I had always attended the yearly Dinner of Reconciliation and invited other white guests. Some need to be accompanied into situations where we are the minority. I also attend the JHF symposium and hear nationally known speakers at all these events.

I joined a community choir that sings the Spirituals and performs in many venues where the audience is predominantly Black or white. I joined a book club that was formed by the library’s African American resource center. This book club selects books by Black authors, or about Black life. It’s a wonderful, happy group of friends now! I’ve been to their homes and they’ve been to mine.

We announce MLK events at church, and some of us go to the worship service at Boston Ave UMC and to the parade every year.

But then she said, ”Well sometimes my grandchildren visit and they are mixed-race.” So she kept the doll for the church!

After retirement, I realized I didn’t have any personal friends (other than ministers) who were African American. I realized most of my church members worked with people of other races, but my only friends were ministers, and they lived in different towns. I hadn’t been in their homes. I began to visit churches in the Greenwood area, and my mom came with me. For a year we visited white and

I subscribe to the Oklahoma Eagle, which is an African American newspaper. I learn a lot about the Tulsa community and opinions from this monthly paper. Tulsa has a weekly Jazz Jam, and it is one of the most integrated events I attend.

I also ask my African American friends for a recommendation when I’m looking for a new dentist or doctor. I try to be aware of Black-owned businesses and restaurants, and support them.

I show up for justice demonstrations and marches. At the first Black Lives Matter marches, several of us ministers were asked to

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be present as monitors, to simply observe and make note if there was tension.

I go to prayer vigils. It’s the African American churches who host prayer services when there’s a mass shooting at a school or temple or church. Our Interfaith association, Tulsa Metropolitan Ministry, actively includes minority pastors. They take the lead when we address violence. The African American churches (along with Jewish/Muslim leaders) know more about violence against a group than any of us American white Christian leaders. They are experienced in the words and songs and prayers of faith needed to

face evil and grief. Those services witnessed to me, and changed my prayers. I (we) need the faithful leadership of those who are persecuted.

The unity of United Methodists with our faith partners in every community is stronger through the sharing of our heart, mind, soul, strength, money and witness.

An array of artworks featuring Jesus depicted as a person of color. Photos by Twila Gibbens.

Constitutional Amendments

(#1 of 4)

One of the unique elements of United Methodist Polity is that while the General Conference can consider and approve amendments to the constitution of the United Methodist Church, those amendments have to also be approved by members of the annual conferences around the connection.

For a constitutional amendment to be finally approved, two-third of the aggregate of all Conferences have to also vote to approve those amendments.

At this year’s session of Annual Conference in May, there will be four constitutional amendments considered by members of the conference. Three of those amendments are very simple and straightforward, but

another series of amendments deal with the “Regionalization” of the church.

Over the next four months, we will run informational articles so you can know more about the content and context of each amendment.

The first amendment is to paragraph 35, article IV of the Constitution. This simply adds the following language regarding which pastors can vote on delegates to the General Conference, “from a University Senateapproved theological school or its equivalent as recognized in a central conference.”

The change simply clarifies that the M.Div. possessed by a pastor comes from an approved United Methodist seminary.

If you have questions on this or other amendments, please send those to regionalizationQandA@okumc.org.

¶ 35. Article IV. The clergy delegates to the General Conference and to the jurisdictional or central conference shall be elected from the clergy members in full connection and shall be elected by the clergy members of the annual conference or provisional annual conference who are deacons and elders in full connection, associate members, and those provisional members who have completed all of their educational requirements and local pastors who have completed course of study or a Master of Divinity degree from a University Senate-approved theological school or its equivalent as recognized in a central conference and have served a minimum of two consecutive years under appointment immediately preceding the election.

Event Turns Dangerous Weapons into Peaceful Garden Tools

In Tulsa, faith communities, city counselors and a creative guild have joined together to provide an option for those who wish “to do something about gun violence”. St. Paul’s UMC members had attended forums and trainings on gun violence since 2017, but could not stir up community action.

Now, however, for the third year, an event called “Guns to Garden Tools” has been hosted by Tulsa Metropolitan Ministry (TMM) with the funding from faith communities including our Oklahoma Board of Church and Society and the General Board of Church and Society.

Following the 2022 mass shooting at St. Francis hospital in Tulsa, the St. Paul’s members suggested that this was the right time to address gun violence in Tulsa. The community was hurting. The planning suddenly fell together when TMM director Aliye Shimi and Rev. Twila Gibbens visited the office of City Counselor Crista Patrick to ask her to sponsor the event in her district.

drive-through donations.

A car drives through, with the donors staying in the car, and a gunsmith receives their firearms. The guns are dismantled with saws, and gift cards are given, one per gun, to the donors. Plainclothes police check the serial numbers to track stolen guns.

According to the anonymous surveys, people bring guns in because they have inherited them or received them as a gift. Many say there is someone vulnerable in the home, a child or someone with mental illness. Some have turned in firearms used in a suicide.

Patrick immediately agreed, saying her district experienced gun violence often, and that her husband was a veteran belonged to a guild of blacksmiths who would volunteer to help dismantle guns and melt and forge them into garden tools. Moms Demand Action and faith communities provided 30 volunteers.

Each year the event is held on a Saturday morning in a different district of Tulsa. Volunteers gather and set up stations for

Volunteers also distribute tracts on gun safety, along with free safety locks. The event brings in hunting guns, homemade guns, an AR-15 and other repeating weapons. Some of the volunteers have family members who were victims. They feel some healing as they see the bins fill up with firearms. In three years, 110 guns have been brought in.

There is also a ceremony a few months later when families who have been harmed by gun violence will come together and name the victims. Each can hammer on a forge-melted gun part as they say their loved one’s name. They also receive a garden tool in honor of their loved one.

Suggested reading:

Beating Guns: Hope for People Who are Weary of Violence, by Shane Claiborne and Michael Martin

United Methodist AntiRacism Resources You Can Use Today

We’ve curated some resources that your congregation can use as concrete, actionable guides to begin the work of anti-racism.

The Baltimore-Washington Conference of the UMC’s Discipleship Council gathered teachings from our Book of Discipline, the UMC Constitution, and more to guide you in discipleship relating to anti-racism.

The General Commission on Religion and Race (GCORR) published a Racial Justice Conversations Guide, complete with a scripture lesson, discussion questions, and group activities.

Rev. Ryan Dunn, Minister of Online Engagement at Rethink Church, wrote and recorded this podcast with Five Tips for Addressing Racism with Children. It’s important to ensure the next generation not only carries on the work of antiracism, but improves on it.

GCORR created these Do’s and Don’ts of Black History Month, which contains some excellent points for helping white congregations celebrate people of African descent during and beyond the month of February.

Find more resources:

Racial Justice at UMC.org

Anti-Racism Resources from UMCDiscipleship.org

General Commission of Religion & Race from GCORR.org

All the Splendid Colors of Our World

Stephen Colbert, who hosts a major network late-night show, used to have a Comedy Central show created around his alter ego, Stephen Colbert - emphasis on the “fancy” and “French” pronunciation of his last name. One of his running jokes was that he “didn’t see” race. Someone would say something about their race, and he would, with the false gravitas only Stephen Colbert could pull off, respond, “Oh, you’re Black? I didn’t know. You see, I don’t see race.”

The joke was that Colbert, a make-believe pundit, used the excuse of not seeing race as a way to avoid dealing with racism in all its forms. In his imaginary worldview, he didn’t talk about race, which then made him - and those around himimmune to racism’s harmful effects.

It’s funny because it’s familiar.

When I was coming of age in the 1990s, we were taught to do exactly what Colbert’s character purported to do: ignore race, and racism would go away. We believed that if we worked hard not to see the color of someone’s skin, and judged them only for their actions, we would somehow transcend racism and become “higher beings.” Or something like that.

“Color blind” was a buzzword for our generation.

For years, I would suffer through huge bouts of cognitive dissonance as I navigated the Rodney King beatings and subsequent LA riots; the movie Soul Man - look it up, it really did exist; racial profiling and the idea of “Black on Black crime”; stories of the Central Park Five; and my own first daughter, at around a year and a half old, asking at the store, “Mommy, why is that man black?” to my utter humiliation.

To save you wondering, the man was very gracious, and explained to Kali that he was born that way, just like she was born with her skin the color it was. For me, it was a humiliation - a racist utterance by a child who could only have learned

such horrifying behavior from me, her primary caregiver. For the man and Kali, it was simply an opportunity for two strangers to connect.

I had been taught to pretend, at all costs, not to notice the color of this stranger’s skin. Kali, in her perfect innocence, saw the beauty in it.

It became increasingly difficult to pretend someone’s poverty or incarceration or lack of resources was not due to their race. It became worse when I started to see that we were not only judging people’s actions, but also their reactions - reactions to situations beyond their control, reactions to racism and discrimination, reactions to systemic and institutional practices deliberately set up for their failure.

It became impossible when I saw the murder of George Floyd on television, when I learned about Botham Jean and Eric Garner and Michael Brown and all the other Black people who, but for the color of their skin, would definitely - not probably, but 100 percent, I can assure you - have survived their encounters with police officers.

Since I had the revelation - more recently than I would like to admit - that it does more harm than good to ignore race, I have become much more comfortable about discussing race. I might even be annoying about it. My husband Jinx and I point out the racism we see in movies, TV shows, documentaries, and in real life. We follow ideas through to their natural conclusion, finding the imprint of racism on advertising, social media, websites, and especially the news.

We’ve adopted, as part of our daily life, to root out the effects of racism so we can help point out the causes of it. We probably won’t solve it, but we can do our part and be vocal about what we see.

We do this because we love diversity. We know it makes our world better.

We want to see all the splendid colors of our world. Even if my husband is, technically, medically, colorblind.

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