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The Blum and Harvey (2012) text is an apt foundation for crafting an aesthetic encounter, but the book certainly leans more toward historical analyses of material culture with regard to the racialization of Jesus in a specific American context, as opposed to an analysis of its impact on Christian practices and theology through time. (This statement is not a critique of the book, simply a remark on its overall intent.) So, for the second action-reflection cycle, I wanted to go further back in time and explore a broader context, while also making more explicit connections to ongoing theological issues and questions in the contemporary moment, especially regarding race and Christian identity. The work of Willie Jennings immediately came to mind as an initial source. Apart from this project, when I first read Jennings’ (2010) book, The Christian
Imagination: Theology and the Origins of Race, I was utterly convinced by his argument that “Christianity in the Western world lives and moves within a diseased social imagination” rooted in the linkage of theology and race (p. 6). He traces the historical trajectory of this linkage from the late medieval period to the 18th century.
More recently, however, Jennings (2017b) wrote a chapter that in many ways picks up where he left off in the book, but it also summarizes the book’s central argument as a foundation for moving forward and exploring its impact on the whole project of thinking theologically. In this chapter, Jennings grounds his analysis on the intersection of three figures that emerged at the end of the medieval era: the merchant, the soldier, and the missionary. He writes:
What did it mean to think as a Christian in the New World? What did it mean to be taught Christian faith in that same New World? Christian theology entered the New World of North and South America diseased in form and distorted in performance. The strange
career of Christian theology in the New World remains the untold story of Christian identity in America. […] It is a story of placement inside displacement and location inside of dislocating habits of mind in the New World. Christian theology in the New World is also about Christian theology in the Old World, and they are bound
together…through the ground-clearing operations of settlers in the New World. […] [These operations] were set in place by a moment of innovation, a collaboration unanticipated in the New World, but one that nonetheless has framed our reality… an interplay of three crucial agents who together created or recreated much of life in the New World—which is our world. They were the merchant, the soldier, and the missionary. Of course, these were not the only agents in the New World of settler colonies. We could add the citizen, the statesman, or even the peasant, but these other agents derive their identities and operations in the New World from the ground-clearing work of the merchant, the soldier, and the missionary. (pp. 67-68, emphasis in original) Jennings writes about the interplay of these three figures in Trinitarian terms (i.e., akin to the Christian concept of the Trinity, which is the idea that there is one God in three consubstantial— of the same substance—persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit). He specifically draws on the concept of perichoresis, which refers to “mutual indwelling of the three persons,” wherein “the divine relations of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit constitute specific divine identity without individuation” (p. 68). By connecting this idea to the three figures of merchant, soldier, and missionary, he sets up the idea that the three figures are inseparable, and each plays a role in the ground-clearing, in the distortion of theology and Christian identity, in ways that are “distinct but not divisible” (p. 68). That is, you can only fully understand the identity of one by understanding the identities of the others and how they are in relationship.
I was struck by this comparison, and I knew it was one that would resonate with the participants, given its connections with Trinitarian thought. However, I did not want to convey Jennings’ analysis via text, and I began to think of ways to visualize it. I also wanted it to be large, something to draw the participants in to the imagery. At first, I searched online for
paintings from the period of merchants, soldiers, and missionaries. I had no trouble finding great examples, but I was unable to find any cost-effective ways of turning those paintings into
something life-size. My design ended up as follows: I decided instead to order three life-size cardboard cutouts of the male icon typically used on bathrooms signs (the choice to order the male icon was purposeful, to emphasize the patriarchal gender dynamics of this settler trinity, also mentioned by Jennings (2017b)). I would print out the paintings of the three figures and tape them on the cutouts, one for each settler type. I would also write words and phrases from the Jennings (2017b) chapter associated with each of the settler types on the cutouts. Each of the cutouts would then be tied together in multiple places to emphasize their connections, forming a triangle of sorts around a central table. On the table would be a reproduction of a world map by Dutch cartographer Johannes Blaeu from 1664, pictured below in Figure 4.1, which I ordered mounted to a wood panel for stability. Then, on top of the strings tying the figures together, I would place a blow-up globe with the current world map to emphasize the ongoing impact of the settler trinity. I will revisit the installation of this design momentarily.
Apart from this design for a realization of Jennings’ analysis, I was stuck in terms of how to craft the next aesthetic encounter. From a format standpoint, I really wanted to try a different aesthetic approach than one based on a museum, and this first element, though potentially quite effective, was still too similar to the first experience. The rest of the experience needed to be different. I decided to return to Jennings’ (2010) book for inspiration. I began to take notes on passages and primary sources that stood out as particularly impactful and that most clearly exemplified his argument. I had previously read the book at Yale and then again early in my doctoral program. However, I read most of it two more times in this process as well, mining the book for new insights and looking for pedagogical opportunities. I also obtained copies of most of the original primary source documents analyzed by Jennings in order to read beyond the pericopes he includes. This process led to the spark of an idea that would come to form the rest of the second aesthetic encounter.
As I was reading the entirety of the papal bull, Romanus Pontifex, I was struck by the following sentence:
Moreover, we entreat in the Lord, and by the sprinkling of the blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, [that others will not] do anything by themselves or another or others, directly or indirectly, by deed or counsel, or to offer any obstruction whereby the aforesaid King Alfonso and his successors and the infante may be hindered from quietly enjoying their acquisitions and possessions, and prosecuting and carrying out this conquest. (Nicholas V, 1455, emphasis mine)
Note that Pope Nicholas V makes clear elsewhere in the bull that any people seized during King Alfonso’s, the monarch of Portugal, raids across the globe are also to be considered
“possessions.” What stood out was that the pope invoked the blood of Christ as a kind of seal of this pact, that the continent of Africa and the New World and its peoples were Alfonso’s for the taking. Throughout the chapter in which this document is found in Jennings’ book, Jennings makes connections between the documents he analyzes and soteriology, the branch of theology
concerned with salvation. Reading this phrase, “the blood of our Lord Jesus Christ” in
connection with the idea of soteriology, immediately brought forth in my mind another phrase: “the blood of Christ, the cup of salvation,” which is a phrase that parishioners hear every week when they participate in the Eucharist and are offered the chalice of wine by a minister (The Episcopal Church, 1979, p. 365). I then imagined a chalice knocked over, with the wine—the blood of Christ—spilled out, staining a map of the world. I had my first pairing of text, theological concept, and symbol.
I returned to Jennings’ book and related primary sources again with an eye for finding further pairings. Already having the connection with the Eucharist in the first pairing, I wanted to be sure to include a pairing that discusses baptism, the other primary sacrament in the Episcopal Church. Though Jennings discusses baptism occasionally, it is in no way central to his analysis. However, Rebecca Anne Goetz (2012), in her book, The Baptism of Early Virginia: How Christianity Created Race, uses baptism as the central marker and metaphor for her argument about the connection between religious practice and race. Over time, I ended up with four major curated pairings of text, theological concept, and symbol, which I will describe below.
I still had not really determined how I would realize these connections in terms of the design of the experience. One practice that I knew I wanted to carry over from the first cycle was having the participants write reflections. This time, however, I would scatter the reflections out, having them write about the theological concept and connections with race before moving on to the text. I also wanted to have the image from each pairing on the table that would then be somehow transformed at the next table, as related to the text, to reflect the disfiguring of
Christian theology wrought by the settler trinity. I then began the process of narrowing down the range of primary sources to incorporate, including any additional materials/images that might
Figure 4.1: Settler Trinity
accompany the texts. I assembled all the materials and printed out all the texts with enough copies for each individual.
Once again, the installation was in the Parish Hall, and the process took about four hours. The overall preparation for this session took approximately 40 hours. The installation was smooth, except for the set-up of the settler trinity, which was the first of 10 stations. Because of how often the space is used, I was unable to do a trial run. In addition, I decided the day before the installation to place circular mirrors over the faces of the cardboard cutouts, so that the participants could see themselves while looking at the figures. However, when I assembled the cardboard cutouts, I discovered they had a base on them for support that made them taller than anticipated, and I realized that most of the participants would not be able to see themselves. I proceeded with the mirrors regardless, as I wanted them to serve as a reminder that the effects of each of these settlers still influence our lives. I also discovered that the cutouts, despite being rather expensive, were in fact, quite fragile. It was immediately apparent that the idea of having multiple strings holding up a globe would not be possible. In fact, simply tying the three together put a great deal of tension on them, and one of the figures collapsed 15 minutes before the event was to open. Thinking quickly, I was able to reinforce the cardboard with wooden spoons from the kitchen. The final product is depicted below in Figure 4.2.
The remainder of the stations were set up on nine tables surrounding the settler trinity. The installation was open from 4:30 p.m. to 8:00 p.m. on October 26, 2017. Participants were given a folder when they arrived with a sheet inside that explained the format and described the inspiration behind the settler trinity piece, which is where they were to begin. The participants were informed that at four of the stations (2, 4, 6, and 8), they would be asked to reflect on some “big questions” in Christian theology. They were to write their responses and place them in one of the envelopes on the table, seal it, and leave it on the table. They were also instructed that the glass containers on the table were meant to be symbolic representations of (one of) the themes of the stations and that they were there to help them think about the ongoing relevance of the primary sources and/or to simply encourage meditation and reflection. Finally, they were
instructed to take time to read the packet of primary sources at each station, take note of how the glass container had changed, look at any other items on the table, and then take their packet with them to review before the next session. As in the first cycle, I remained in the reception area outside the Parish Hall during the session. An overview of the stations follows with pictures of the glass containers.
Station 1 – The settler trinity installation as described above. Station 2 – Reflection station with two questions:
(1) What is race?
(2) Though it seems perhaps unrelated, in the realm of theology, there is a “branch” of study called soteriology, which involves all things concerning the idea of salvation. So, what is salvation?
Figure 4.2: Station 2 Symbol
Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks he gave it to them, saying, ‘Drink from it, all of you; for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the
forgiveness of sins’ (Matthew 26:27-28, New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)). The Blood of Christ, the cup of salvation (The Book of Common Prayer, 1979, p. 365). On this mountain the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-matured wines, of rich food filled with marrow, of well-matured wines strained clear. And he will destroy on this mountain the shroud that is cast over all peoples, the sheet that is spread over all nations; he will swallow up death for ever. Then the
Lord God will wipe away the tears from all faces, and the disgrace of his people he will take away from all the earth, for the Lord has spoken. It will be said on that day, Lo, this is our God; we have waited for him, so that he might save us. This is the Lord for whom we have waited; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation. For the hand of the Lord will rest on this mountain (Isaiah 25:6-10, NRSV).
Station 3 – An introduction was provided with some background explanation from Jennings’ (2010) book describing the life and circumstances of Gomes Eanes de Azurara, the royal chronicler of Prince Henry of Portugal. The primary sources were:
(1) Selections from Zurara’s The Chronicle of the Discovery and Conquest of Guinea (1457) a. A prayer for the slaves being auctioned in the port of Lagos.
Figure 4.3: Station 3 Symbol
(2) Selections from the papal bull, Romanus Pontifex by Pope Nicholas V (1455), described above.
a. The pope grants portions of the known world to Portugal, including the inhabitants, who are to converted to Catholicism.
b. The pope threatens excommunication to anyone in the Church who disobeys this decree.
(3) Closing question for reflection: Where do you see race in this account? How is it connected to theology? To ideas of salvation?
The glass container on this table was “knocked over” with wine spilled over a Portuguese map of the world from 1522 by cartographer Diogo Ribeiro (Figure 4.4)
Other elements on the table included a Trajectory for the Possibility of Salvation, taken from Jennings’ (2010) book, which illustrates the racial hierarchy developed by Jesuit theologian, Alessandro Valignano in 1580, wherein the races of the world are organized from White – Japanese – Chinese – Indians – Jewish Converts/Muslim Converts – Black/Sub-Saharan African with those nearer to the White end more likely to achieve salvation and those nearer to the Black
Station 4 – Reflection station with two questions:
(1) What are your first thoughts when you hear/see the word “creation”?
(2) There is another “branch” of study within theology (and philosophy) called teleology, which involves the idea of end, design, or purpose in the material world. What do you think is the Christian understanding of the “telos” or purpose of creation? And, what do you think is the Christian understanding of the relationship between humanity and creation?
The glass container on the table was filled with soil with the following label (Figure 4.5). Then the Lord God formed man from the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and the man became a living being (Genesis 2:7, NRSV). I said in my heart, God will judge the righteous and the wicked, for he has appointed a time for every matter, and for every work. I said in my heart with regard to human beings that God is testing them to show that they are but animals. For the fate of humans and the fate of animals is the same; as one dies, so dies the other. They all have the same breath, and humans have no advantage over the animals; for all is vanity. All go to one place; all are from the dust, and all turn to dust again (Ecclesiastes 3:17-20, NRSV).
Almighty God, you have created us out of the dust of the earth: Grant that these ashes may be to us a sign of our mortality and penitence, that we may remember that it is only by your gracious gift that we are given everlasting life; through Jesus Christ our Savior. Amen. Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return (The Book of Common Prayer, 1979, p. 265 - Ash Wednesday Liturgy).
Station 5 - An introduction was provided with some background explanation from Jennings’ (2010) book describing the life of José de Acosta Porres, a Jesuit priest, prior to his arrival in Peru. I also stated that by the time Acosta arrived, millions of native Andeans had died from warfare and disease, and animals and crops introduced by the Spanish completely disrupted the native landscape. I also provided a list of Spanish words related to the system of governance the colonizers had put in place, some of which appear in the sources. The primary sources were:
(1) Selections from Acosta’s Natural and Moral History of the Indies (1590):
a. A discussion of the discovery of the New World, where he connects the discovery