Living in Honor of the Buffalo Soldiers of the 92nd (WWII)...

I've never gotten why blacks have fought so valiantly in American wars. I shouldn't say it quite like that. I do get it somewhat, but I am extremely ambivalent toward it. I know the heart it takes, I appreciate the sacrifice in a way words can't do justice (it's one of the reasons I continue to live here), but I struggle to stomach all that America has put black soldier's through before, during and after their service. I have nowhere to put that hurt.

I watched a tribute to one particular soldier from WWII with ties to Italy reported on NBC by Tom Brokaw tonight as apart of the closing coverage of the Olympics. His name is Vernon Baker. My God, I can't put into words how he moved me. I fought back tears the entire length of the 45-minute tribute.

So many white Americans simply assume that Blacks have every reason to feel unambiguously proud to be an American ("where at least I know I'm free," right?). I will forever be grateful to Brokaw for being more empathetic. In the course of his interview with Baker, he expressed his own awe regarding black military involvement. How did you not fly into a rage? Brokaw asks. Baker's response was so enlightening and so telling, "This is our only country. If we didn't fight for it, it might end up belonging to someone else."

I don't really know what to say about that. My heart soars and is sore all at the same time. What's telling to me is that it seems to explain why the majority of the people now left at the Cathedral of the Holy Spirit (Chapel Hill Harvester Church)—once a multi-racial church of 12,000+ members—are Black.

Fredrick Douglass in the narrative of his life notes with sadness how Black slaves would own the infirmities of their masters. "How we feels today master?" "I don't know why ya'll are so hard on bossman; he's always been good to us Colored folks."

It may be an unfairly broad generalization, but white folks seemed to have long figured out what the formerly colonized are just now beginning to realize: that in the global market construct one can always just move on. Loyalty is not at a premium. (Why am I hearing Kenny Rogers in my mind's ear, "You've got to know when to hold 'em; know when to fold 'em; know when to walk away; know when to run…")

I've recently gotten pretty actively involved in what's known as the Emergent conversation, a global village of folks rethinking what it means to be the Church in the world for the good of the world. We've been encouraging the voice of persons from historically marginalized groups to come forward and be heard. I had a good friend of mine who is not a part of the Emergent dialogue—but ironically introduced me to it—warn me to keep my eye's open. Jokingly he observed, "Beige folks are good for moving on… You'll turn around and Emergent will be a predominantly Black organization, and they'll be over there in a new conversation called 'Manifest!'" Though hilarious, it's also sobering.

Like I said I don't know how all this fits together. Vernon Baker's hopes for the future inspire me to continue to hope. It's not always easy. "Don't hate," Vernon's grandfather told him, "because hate will destroy you." Now that's good theology. Lasting Valor is Baker's biography.

"Negroes are doing their bit—their supreme bit—not for glory, not for honor, but for what I think is the generation to come." ~black soldier in WWII