I won’t spoil it. Not by mentioning slavery. Not by saying that the first African captives to land in Jamestown, Virginia, in 1619 arrived on a British war ship—and the British lied about it.
If we’re telling the truth about last Saturday’s beautiful wedding, however, may we at least, for context, mention our hardest history? To see just how far a wedding attempted to carry our torn and broken world?
That’s what I’m finally doing after reflecting on the Windsor wedding, and how 399 years ago, the British untruthfully blamed a Dutch ship for bringing “20 odd Negroes” to the Virginia colony as indentured slaves. In fact, an English warship, White Lion, had captured the African prisoners after pirating a Portuguese slave ship which was trying to deliver its African captives to Mexico.
Drama on the high seas? Following by centuries of racial terror? Yes, it all happened. Sadly, indeed.
And yet? On last Saturday we were invited to a wedding. The celebration sought to help us move past that systemic, ugly, horrifying history. How? Is it too crazy to whisper: with our love?
A black preacher dared the world to consider it—that love, indeed, would sustain us beyond last Saturday’s jubilation.
Can I admit it can feel insufficient? As captivated as we’ve been with the royal romance, what greater reality could this royal match—seemingly made in heaven—afford to us all?
The Most Rev. Michael Curry stepped forth to suggest the answer is our healing. Love’s power yields it, he said. How much? Enough to unlatch the racial chokehold still trapping far too many of us.
He was smiling as he said this. Almost looking mischievous. Daring a hurting world to believe him.
From his opening words, said ABC News Online, “it was clear this was not going to be a standard Church of England sermon, which tradition dictates should be delivered in the tone of a very shy person asking the way to the train station.”
Instead, Curry’s used black-style preaching to represent God, speaking with joy and hope about the promise of healing with love–even in broken families. It was a master class in Christian theology made plain and simple. Glued to our TV sets, we couldn’t stop listening. As he said, God is love. Who doesn’t need a master class in that?
That was my question after watching, and re-watching, the wedding. There, in a 14th Century chapel, we saw Britain’s longest reigning monarch—Queen Elizabeth II—turning the world on its head by endorsing her own newly interracial family.
Approving her grandson’s marriage to a biracial American divorceé, whose mother is African American, the queen made it clear that our long season of racial division has run its course, and it can end. Time is up, indeed.
As Curry told CNN’s Christiane Amanpour, “The wonderful thing about it is the royal family all made this possible. I suspect that in some wonderful and small way, I got a feeling God was trying to send a message, not just to them, but maybe to the whole human family—that the truth is, no matter who we are, no matter our station in life, we actually come from the same God. And last time I checked, even in the world of biology, if you have the same parent, you are related to that person. And the truth is, we’ve got the same parent.
“It means we’re all related, whether we’re royal or not, whether black or white, red, yellow, brown, gay, straight, rich, poor. No matter the nationality, no matter the religion, we all come from the same God and, if that’s true, then we are brothers and sisters, and we’re meant to be our sister’s keeper and our brother’s keeper—and, my friend, we’d have a very different world if we lived like that.”
Still, within the royal family, we saw discomfort at Curry’s words.
Some royal guests side-eyed and sneered as Curry spoke, mouths agape at his black-preacher remarks. Going off script, and clearly led by the Holy Spirit, he cast off his prepared speech—the one approved by the queen—and spoke from the heart, swinging his arms heavenward in his episcopal fervor.
One young royal even leaned forward in her seat, glancing down her row in historic St. George’s Chapel Quire to catch her family members’ eyes, showing her disbelief. Watching her, I felt some anger. How dare she?
Then I remembered the One who’d sent the preacher. What would He say about sneering mockers?
“Father, forgive them. For they know not what they do.”
That is love’s starting point. Forgiving each other. Which can feel impossible. Especially when it comes to righting systemic wrongs and centuries of pain. Yet, one by one, we can choose to overcome the past, and remake the future, the preacher said.
“The reason has to do with the source. We were made by a power of love, and our lives were meant –and are meant—to be lived in that love. That’s why we are here. Ultimately, the source of love is God himself: the source of all of our lives.”
What does any of this say about our world? Or, more importantly, about our God?
More than all, it says God will help us. Without Him, we can’t love—especially past our differences. On our own, we’re still calling police on our neighbors. Alarmed at ethnic difference. Yelling at people for speaking Spanish. Feeling “uncomfortable” and “nervous” when people look “different.” Indeed, when they don’t look white.
Yet a couple of newlyweds in Britain, of all places, invited us this weekend to believe we can move past those sorrowing limits.
Then heaven itself, says the Bible, will be home to “a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb” (Revelation 7:9).
We might remember, meantime, that our Lord’s first miracle was performed at a wedding. When the drink ran out, He turned plain water into choicest wine (John 2:1-11 NIV).
He makes everything its best, however, simply by touching it. Even our hard hearts. Not to mention our humble words.
That’s probably why black preaching can sound so powerful. Plain or fancy, it’s typically unvarnished. As Bishop Curry told CBS, his plan was to just “show up”—indeed, to follow his dad’s advice to “always be who you really are. Don’t pretend to be someone else.”
When we do that, the Lead Preacher takes over. Then when He speaks?
May our broken world stop running from each other and listen. Then may we love.
Patricia Raybon is an award-winning author of books and essays on faith, race and grace.
To travel along on Patricia’s Faith Journey, please click here.
Any Scriptures quoted, unless noted otherwise, are the New Living Translation of the Holy Bible.
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Photo Credit: Alexi Lubomirski for the Royal Family