This post may be a case of “misinterpreting boldly so that the Spirit may come” (Ken Schenck).
Yesterday, as I drove away from seminary to visit my brother in Chicago, I had NPR on the radio. A story that played was a recollection of the lynching that led to song “Strange Fruit.” Although the song speaks about “southern trees” being the hanging trees, this particular famous/infamous lynching occurred in Marion, IN. When I learned that fact, I suddenly felt creepy; Marion, IN is where Wesley Seminary at Indiana Wesleyan University is located. I realize that Marion is a very different place than it was 1930, and few, if any, of the adults who were a part of this crime are alive today, but as an African-American, some things just disturb my spirit.
After the NPR piece was finished, my mind recalled a moment last summer. On our way back from lunch, Dr. Bob Whitesel stopped some of us seminarians, to point out the dedication display in the Lewis A. Jackson Library. When a young Lewis Jackson attempted to enroll in a college, he was denied repeatedly, until he came to Marion College, the former name of Indiana Wesleyan University. Jackson graduated in 1939, went on to become one of the Tuskegee Airmen, and later earn a PhD. That memory took the creepy feeling away, and I am looking forward to returning to Marion on Sunday for our convocation service.
One witness to the lynching recalled, “those trees died after that.” Although it is a huge leap in application from ancient Israel to Marion, IN, I recalled 2 Chronicles 7:14. If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land. When I consider what Marion College has become, Indiana Wesleyan University and Wesley Seminary (the first seminary of The Wesleyan Church), premier institutions, ones that not only accept diversity among the student body, but encourage it, ones that teach and value the Word of God, I cannot help but to see that as God’s promise kept.
Your post reminded me of the child in Sixth Sense who can see the sins of the past while everyone else merrily goes on their way. I try not to see Marion this way, although I fear the Midwest (and all places) still harbor many hidden hates.
These are sins that attach to me, even though I am glad some of my spiritual ancestors were exceptions in their time. I’m glad we have forgetters but I fear I also need help to see that I don’t…
Thanks for being part of my journey and letting me be part of yours!