Series: Diary of A Divinity Student
(Entry #4)
This past semester, I
participated in a Student-Faculty Colloquium at Howard University School of
Divinity. I was a student-respondent
among three faculty-respondents. This
exercise allowed me to further explore an area of great interest: the
intersection of psychology and religion.
(A Response to Dr. Jay-Paul
Hinds’ “Shame and it’s Sons: Black Men, Fatherhood and Filicide”)
What is filicide? Upon preparing my response, I asked myself
this question. As a result, I could not help but notice that Christ, himself, was a
victim of filicide. According to the
Christian story, we are saved by a Father, who begat a son, and killed that son
(by way of the cross). While we
emphasize Christ’s degradation and use it as a source of empowerment that
invites us to a personal faith-journey of metamorphosis, there is something
quite unsettling about this model. While
Dr. Jay-Paul Hinds, in his paper, “Shame and Its Sons: Black Men, Fatherhood
and Filicide”, asserts the contrary, it
is my opinion, that shame is not a secure
base from which to nurture our sons and daughters in the black community. We are surrounded by a culture of shame. Furthermore, shame is a complex emotion
and it is unrealistic that wholeness can come from such a broken place. In this response, I have identified the
following three areas of shame: theological, societal and familial.
First,
our sons and daughters are oftentimes exposed to a theological shame, as a result of church upbringing. We are taught that we are to be ashamed of
our “sinful” human nature, and that is in fact, proof that we are in need of a
savior. I am reminded of the short
story, by Langston Hughes, entitled, “Salvation,” which depicts a
thirteen-year-old boy, who was shamed into salvation, if you will. In
fact, our shame is two fold. Not
only are we made to feel a sense of self-disgust as a result of our “sinful”
human condition, we are also reminded of the shamefulness of the cross. Christ sacrificed his shame for our own.
Songs such as “I Know It Was The Blood,” further prove this point:
They nailed him to a tree; they nailed him to a tree for me.
They pierced him in his side; they pierced him in his
side, for me.
One day when I was lost, he died upon the cross and I know it was the blood for me.
Essentially, we are taught
that we must admit our shameful shortcomings, accept the gift of salvation, or
Christ’s shameful crucifixion was in vain.
Second,
our sons and daughters, growing up in the United States, encounter a societal shame. It is the shame of bearing black skin. We live in a land, which enslaved, lynched,
and segregated our ancestors, and in many ways still seeks to oppress us today. Let us take the recent, story of Trayvon
Martin, for example. Many of us know the
story. He was a black, young male,
walking through a white neighborhood, on his way to purchase iced tea and
skittles, never to return. And sadly, in
our society, such degradation of black males is not uncommon. Or, for our daughters, beyond the skin, there
is a shame attached to black hair. I am
reminded of Tiana Parker, the teary-eyed six-year-old girl in Tulsa, Oklahoma
sent home from school because the school “banned natural hairstyles such as
afros and dreadlocks.” Due to these underpinnings of theological
and societal shame, I argue that this emotion is not a foundation of familial
empowerment for our sons and daughters in the African-American community.
*Trayvon Martin and Father, Tracy Martin
However,
I applaud Dr. Hinds’ use of a biblical paradigm to shed light on family
dynamics and issues of mental health.
This is often a taboo topic in the black community. Moreover, I hold that in the story of the
prodigal son, the father is a starting point for analysis of the family
structure, not the answer to it.
Third,
Hinds asserts that for both father and son, mutual shame or vulnerability can
serve as a platform for empowerment.
Namely, Hinds assumes that the father is in a healthy enough place to
relate to his son, to begin with. Given
the social issues surrounding the father-son dynamic, in our context today, of
which Hinds states its effects adequately and with much analysis, the end goal
of reconciliation by way of mutual vulnerability seems to understate the
complexity of the issue. Next, Hinds
assumes that the father is aware of his own shame and willing to admit how it
has impacted the father-son relationship.
The father must do his own internal work before attempting to address
the son’s. As the father, he may not be
ready to undergo such a difficult process of self-introspection. Especially, if his own shame as a son (the
father) has not been addressed in his own life.
If the father and son come to a healthy place were reconciliation is
possible, it will not come from a place of familial shame. The father is not all encompassing,
possessing all of the answers that the son needs for his own development. For me, this solution echoes the
paternalistic-patriarchal model of our theology. Perhaps
some of the questions we ask God, we hold the answers to. Perhaps the son has more to say than the
parable exemplifies.
*The Return of The Prodigal Son by Romare Bearden
From what place should fathers relate
to their sons and daughters? In the story, maybe the father did the right
thing in not addressing his son’s
inner shame. Maybe the father was aware
of what he COULD provide: monetary as opposed to emotional support. Perhaps the task for the lost son or daughter
is to realize what the father can provide—if anything. Perhaps it is why the prodigal child took the
voyage to begin with. Throughout our lives as sons or daughters,
we will leave home many times. We
will leave in search of a community drastically different from the one in which
we were raised. Or, if the home is a
toxic place, one’s journey may not permit them to return home often. Theological, societal and familial shame are
not springboards for hope. In this case, maybe a healthy home is more
psychological than physical. Perhaps this was the case for the prodigal
son. Perhaps this (realization) is the place from which growth can occur.
