As followers of Christ, we are called to the ministry of reconciliation. In Be the Bridge, author Latasha Morrison says that unless we know history, we can’t know what needs to be lamented, repaired, or reconciled.
To be a part of God’s reconciling work in this world, we must assume a posture of humility, learning, and listening. Through watching documentaries and reading books like Be the Bridge, The Warmth of the Other Suns, and Where Peachtree Meets Sweet Auburn, I am learning more about Black history. It grieves me to learn of the suffering, great divide, and death found in these pages.
In addition to learning, I need to examine my heart and reflect on my own family history and the part we may have played in this division. I was raised in South Carolina in a home that is over 100 years old. We lived on a large farm where tobacco and cotton were grown. Over the past few months, I’ve been digging into writings and books about my family, as well as reviewing census documents on Ancestry.com. It confirms what I feared.
On a recent visit to the farm, I talked with Nathan, who has worked there since he was young. I asked him questions that I have never asked before in an effort to learn, know, and feel our family’s history. We talked about how he picked cotton — 350 pounds on his best days — and how he worked cropping tobacco from sunup to sundown in the summer heat. While we talked, I noticed how his hands and his fingers were broken and misshapen because of his work in the fields. His labor and that of the generations before him gave me the privilege of living in a beautiful home, going to college, graduating debt-free, and getting a great job — without a single callus on the palms of my hands. While I didn’t notice the disparity then, I can see it clearly now.
I cannot undo my birth or my family history, but I can lament what has happened, learn from it, and be a part of the restoration and reconciliation work going forward.