“I love everybody. I love everybody in my heart”
The above is quoted by Ruby Sales in her September 15,2016 conversation with host Krista Tippett on the podcast “On Being”. That conversation is repeated on the September 17, 2017 podcast.
Mrs. Sales, the theologian, teacher and leader who has reached out to the entire community - people of all races, backgrounds, ages and religions - says during this interview:
“I grew up believing that I was a first-class human being and a first-class person. And our parents were spiritual geniuses who were able to shape a counterculture of black folk religious that raised us from disposability to being essential players in society. And it also taught us something serene about love. “I love everybody. I love everybody in my heart.” And so, hate was not anything in our vocabulary.”
Later on, in the interview she says of black folk religion:
“It was a religion predicated on right relations and love and non-violence.”
She returns to the song, “I love everybody. I love everybody in my heart. And you can’t make me hate you. And you can’t make me hate you in my heart.” She goes on to say: “Now that is very powerful because you have to understand that this spiritual – it as an acknowledgement not only that we control our internal lives, but also it contested the notion of the omnipotent power of the white enslaver. This was very revolutionary and very profound.”
Ms. Sales was raised with a passion for her power to love, for power to embrace herself, including her African American ancestry, her power to embrace her place in the world and her power to ask the “Where does it hurt?” That is, after all, what it means to love. We can ask, “Where does it hurt. How does the hurt keep us separate from ourselves and each other? How does the hurt divide us?”
It seems that many of us have bought into the lie that we can run from our pain. Thus, many use drugs, sex, power, money, stuff, education, and anything else outside of ourselves to try to assuage the hurt without owning the hurt. When we refuse to hear and fully experience the hurt we become complicit in selling the lie that there is something which can help us safely avoid the hurt. Instead of asking our children and each other, “Where does it hurt?” we have abandoned them as parents, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters and neighbors. Whether it is the coal miner who no longer has a way to support his or her family in the way they believe they should, the attorney who must sell his soul to the firm, the addict who has been taken hostage by the addiction, the terrorist who believes that God requires him or her to kill those who believe differently than they do, the clerk working for $10.00 or even $15.00 an hour, or the business magnate who needs another building or another hostile takeover to prove his or her worth we need to ask, “Where does it hurt?”
We need to ask the David Dukes of the world, “Where does it hurt?” We need to ask the Donald Trumps: “Where does it hurt?” The Israeli needs to ask the Palestinian, “Where does it hurt?” the Palestinian needs to ask the Israeli, “Where does it hurt?”
Vera Brittan, Alice Miller and many others have written about the cost of mistreating the Germans after WWI. The Allies said to them, “You are not important. You are worthless. You are bad. You do not deserve a good job.” Hitler said to them, “You are important. Wear this important uniform. Be part of the mission to reclaim our country.” Hitler knew where it hurt. He hurt also and stumbled on a way to avoid his own hurt by make himself feel important.
Obviously, if I ask David Duke, President Trump, or many others, “Where does it hurt?” there is no reason for them to believe that I really want to know and there may be no reason they can identify for them to risk sharing with themselves or me where it hurts. Yet, instead of hurtling names back at them we need to ask, “Where does it hurt?” We have to ask it with sincerity and an openness that allows for the possibility of them taking the risk of touching their hurt. Interestingly it is in our hearts that we must first allow for the question and the answer.
Perhaps the hardest/scariest person to ask “Where does it hurt?” is ourselves? That takes great courage and a lot of support.
Hiding the hurt hides the essence of who we are. The hurt becomes this iron casing which imprisons our bodies. It hides our passion- the vitality of our dance – the ability to ask our children, our partners, our neighbor, “Where does it hurt?”
Embracing our hurt frees our passion to soar – to be the sacred, strong, loving person that we are. There is no force which can contain our spirit – our passion.
We circle back to the wisdom of Black Folk Religion and to that of Ruby Sales raised in the cradle of that religion:
“I love everybody. I love everybody in my heart. And you can’t make me hate you. And you can’t make me hate you in my heart.” She goes on to say: “Now that is very powerful because you have to understand that this spiritual – it as an acknowledgement not only that we control our internal lives, but also it contested the notion of the omnipotent power of the white enslaver. This was very revolutionary and very profound.”
Written August 18, 2017
The above is quoted by Ruby Sales in her September 15,2016 conversation with host Krista Tippett on the podcast “On Being”. That conversation is repeated on the September 17, 2017 podcast.
Mrs. Sales, the theologian, teacher and leader who has reached out to the entire community - people of all races, backgrounds, ages and religions - says during this interview:
“I grew up believing that I was a first-class human being and a first-class person. And our parents were spiritual geniuses who were able to shape a counterculture of black folk religious that raised us from disposability to being essential players in society. And it also taught us something serene about love. “I love everybody. I love everybody in my heart.” And so, hate was not anything in our vocabulary.”
Later on, in the interview she says of black folk religion:
“It was a religion predicated on right relations and love and non-violence.”
She returns to the song, “I love everybody. I love everybody in my heart. And you can’t make me hate you. And you can’t make me hate you in my heart.” She goes on to say: “Now that is very powerful because you have to understand that this spiritual – it as an acknowledgement not only that we control our internal lives, but also it contested the notion of the omnipotent power of the white enslaver. This was very revolutionary and very profound.”
Ms. Sales was raised with a passion for her power to love, for power to embrace herself, including her African American ancestry, her power to embrace her place in the world and her power to ask the “Where does it hurt?” That is, after all, what it means to love. We can ask, “Where does it hurt. How does the hurt keep us separate from ourselves and each other? How does the hurt divide us?”
It seems that many of us have bought into the lie that we can run from our pain. Thus, many use drugs, sex, power, money, stuff, education, and anything else outside of ourselves to try to assuage the hurt without owning the hurt. When we refuse to hear and fully experience the hurt we become complicit in selling the lie that there is something which can help us safely avoid the hurt. Instead of asking our children and each other, “Where does it hurt?” we have abandoned them as parents, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters and neighbors. Whether it is the coal miner who no longer has a way to support his or her family in the way they believe they should, the attorney who must sell his soul to the firm, the addict who has been taken hostage by the addiction, the terrorist who believes that God requires him or her to kill those who believe differently than they do, the clerk working for $10.00 or even $15.00 an hour, or the business magnate who needs another building or another hostile takeover to prove his or her worth we need to ask, “Where does it hurt?”
We need to ask the David Dukes of the world, “Where does it hurt?” We need to ask the Donald Trumps: “Where does it hurt?” The Israeli needs to ask the Palestinian, “Where does it hurt?” the Palestinian needs to ask the Israeli, “Where does it hurt?”
Vera Brittan, Alice Miller and many others have written about the cost of mistreating the Germans after WWI. The Allies said to them, “You are not important. You are worthless. You are bad. You do not deserve a good job.” Hitler said to them, “You are important. Wear this important uniform. Be part of the mission to reclaim our country.” Hitler knew where it hurt. He hurt also and stumbled on a way to avoid his own hurt by make himself feel important.
Obviously, if I ask David Duke, President Trump, or many others, “Where does it hurt?” there is no reason for them to believe that I really want to know and there may be no reason they can identify for them to risk sharing with themselves or me where it hurts. Yet, instead of hurtling names back at them we need to ask, “Where does it hurt?” We have to ask it with sincerity and an openness that allows for the possibility of them taking the risk of touching their hurt. Interestingly it is in our hearts that we must first allow for the question and the answer.
Perhaps the hardest/scariest person to ask “Where does it hurt?” is ourselves? That takes great courage and a lot of support.
Hiding the hurt hides the essence of who we are. The hurt becomes this iron casing which imprisons our bodies. It hides our passion- the vitality of our dance – the ability to ask our children, our partners, our neighbor, “Where does it hurt?”
Embracing our hurt frees our passion to soar – to be the sacred, strong, loving person that we are. There is no force which can contain our spirit – our passion.
We circle back to the wisdom of Black Folk Religion and to that of Ruby Sales raised in the cradle of that religion:
“I love everybody. I love everybody in my heart. And you can’t make me hate you. And you can’t make me hate you in my heart.” She goes on to say: “Now that is very powerful because you have to understand that this spiritual – it as an acknowledgement not only that we control our internal lives, but also it contested the notion of the omnipotent power of the white enslaver. This was very revolutionary and very profound.”
Written August 18, 2017
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