In a profound conversation, civil rights icon Ruby Sales poses a question that resonates deeply in our fractured world: “Where Does it hurt?” This simple yet powerful inquiry, honed during the civil rights movement, cuts through superficialities to the heart of societal and personal pain. Sales challenges us to confront not only what we oppose but also what we cherish, emphasizing the necessity of love in driving meaningful change. She sheds light on the often-overlooked spiritual dimension of the civil rights era and identifies a crucial “spiritual crisis of white America” as a defining challenge of our time.
This exploration begins with Krista Tippett, host of On Being, interviewing Ruby Sales, a figure whose life and work are deeply intertwined with the pursuit of justice and spiritual understanding. Sales, whose oral history is part of the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture, leads the SpiritHouse Project, a nonprofit based in Atlanta. This interview, conducted in 2016 at a gathering of theologians, delves into the essence of public theology and its relevance in the 21st century.
The Spiritual Grounding of Black Folk Religion: Where Does Inner Strength Come From?
Sales reflects on her upbringing in the American South, rooted in three generations of Southern Baptist preachers. She emphasizes the profound influence of black folk religion, a system that harmonized democratic ideals with a deep-seated theological sense of justice. This wasn’t just a religion of the institution but a lived experience where faith permeated daily life. It was a faith that proclaimed the inherent worth of those deemed disposable by society, instilling a sense of essentiality and belonging even amidst enslavement. The language of this faith was accessible to all, fostering a community where everyone could engage with theological concepts.
For Sales, religion was not merely a set of doctrines but “the ground that I stood on that positioned us to stand against the wind.” This “wind” was the oppressive force of Southern apartheid. Her parents, she explains, were “spiritual geniuses” who cultivated an environment where the pervasive notion of inadequacy and inferiority could not take root. They fostered a “counterculture of black folk religion” that elevated individuals from a position of disposability to one of vital importance. Love, not hate, was the cornerstone of their vocabulary and worldview.
Beyond the Pulpit: Where Does True Religious Power Lie?
Sales draws a critical distinction between black folk religion and the black church as an institution. She argues that the heart of the Southern Freedom Movement resided not primarily with black preachers, but within black congregations – ordinary individuals who, grounded in this folk religion, accomplished extraordinary feats.
Black folk religion, she elucidates, originated in the “bush harbors” of plantations, predating formalized church structures. It was a participatory space, a community gathering where everyone’s voice held significance, not solely that of the preacher. Spirituals emerged from this collective experience, embodying a shared theological understanding. Sales asserts that ordinary black people, not preachers, were the driving force behind the movement, compelling the institutional church to become involved. Even Martin Luther King Jr., she notes, emerged from this tradition of black folk religion and the broader Southern freedom movement.
Nonviolence and Agape Love: Where Does the Philosophy of Resistance Originate?
Krista Tippett points out the parallels between the philosophy of nonviolence embraced by figures like John Lewis and Vincent Harding, often attributed to influences like Gandhi, Thoreau, and Jesus, and the tenets of black folk religion. Sales affirms this connection, highlighting the inherent nonviolent theology within black spirituals. Songs proclaiming, “I’m gonna lay down my sword and shield down by the riverside…and study war no more,” reveal a deep-seated philosophy of nonviolence, love, and right relations, predating and informing the strategies of the Civil Rights Movement.
Sales emphasizes the concept of agape love, a selfless, unconditional love, as a lived reality within this tradition. It wasn’t merely the absence of hate but a conscious choice to control one’s inner response to oppression. The song “I love everybody…and you can’t make me hate you in my heart” embodies this powerful stance. It was a revolutionary assertion of inner freedom and a rejection of the enslaver’s supposed omnipotence.
A Crisis of Faith: Where Does Doubt Emerge?
Despite this deep spiritual grounding, Sales recounts a period of disillusionment. She describes the sometimes-perceived performative religiosity of obligatory prayers at movement gatherings, which she found “downright embarrassing” at times. Initially, she held a naive faith, expecting divine intervention akin to the Exodus story. However, the harsh realities of her first demonstration – facing state troopers and unmet expectations of miraculous deliverance – led to a crisis of faith. This experience propelled her towards Marxism and materialism, temporarily eclipsing her spiritual upbringing.
Circling Back: Where Does Spiritual Reconnection Begin?
Sales describes her journey back to theology not as a simple return, but as a deeper understanding of her enduring connection to black folk religion. Even during her period of secularism, she remained spiritually nourished through figures like Bernice Johnson Reagon and the music of Sweet Honey in the Rock, whose concerts and songs served as a form of “church” for a generation. The values of right relations and justice, ingrained from her upbringing, remained central to her worldview.
A pivotal moment of reconnection occurred during a seemingly mundane act – getting her hair washed. Encountering a young woman struggling with addiction and pain, Sales instinctively asked, “Where does it hurt?” This simple question unlocked a torrent of deeply buried trauma and pain in the young woman, revealing a need for a more profound approach to healing than a purely materialist analysis could offer. This, coupled with a spontaneous moment of crying and recognizing God’s presence even during her period of doubt, propelled her towards divinity school and a path as a public theologian.
The Intergenerational Question: Where Does Abandonment Reside?
Sales raises a critical question echoing among young black people today: “How could black adults have thrown us into a den of people who don’t love us?” This poignant query speaks to the complex aftermath of the Civil Rights Movement and the unintended consequences of integration. While the movement aimed for a “Beloved Community,” the focus shifted towards integration, sometimes at the expense of community and protection.
Generations of young African Americans were sent into environments where they faced humiliation and a sense of not being valued. This experience has created a chasm between younger and older generations, a feeling of abandonment and a questioning of why they were sent into “unsafe” spaces without adequate “armor.”
Redefining Community and Love: Where Does the Path Forward Lie?
In response to a question about regaining the faith of younger generations, Sales emphasizes the reciprocal nature of love and trust between generations. It’s not just about older generations showing love to the young, but also about young people expressing love and respect for elders. She acknowledges the contemporary challenges to community building in a fragmented world marked by gentrification and the erosion of public spaces.
Sales posits that redefining community for the 21st century is a crucial task for public theology. She sees an opportunity to expand the concept of “Beloved Community” to a global scale, fostering connection and intimacy in a world often characterized by division. She highlights the hunger for intergenerational connection, noting the positive response of young people to platforms that amplify the voices of elders.
Theology with Hindsight, Insight, and Foresight: Where Does Wisdom Dwell?
Sales underscores the importance of history in theology, emphasizing that cross-generational dialogue is vital for transmitting this history. She believes theology must possess “hindsight, insight, and foresight” – a complete vision attainable through collective wisdom. Aging, despite its physical challenges, offers the gift of this broader perspective.
She raises a crucial theological question for our time: “How is it that we develop a theology or theologies in a 21st-century capitalist technocracy where only a few lives matter?” This question extends beyond racial divides to encompass the spiritual struggles of marginalized individuals across society, including the “spiritual crisis in white America.”
Sales observes a lack of theological voices addressing the pain and meaninglessness felt by many, including those in white communities grappling with shifting identities and economic anxieties. She calls for a “liberating white theology” that speaks to these struggles, offering hope and a renewed sense of human worth. She questions why there seems to be a reluctance to address the spiritual needs within white communities, suggesting a need to move beyond solely focusing on racial divides and embrace a broader vision of spiritual healing and redemption for all.
Black Folk Religion Today: Where Does Its Legacy Persist?
When asked about the contemporary presence of black folk religion, Sales sees its spirit alive in movements like Black Lives Matter and in the fight for LGBTQ+ rights – wherever there is an assertion of humanity and a demand for right relations. Its influence extends beyond the black community, shaping broader American society and even informing conversations about economic equality.
Reconciling Love and Outrage: Where Does Balance Reside?
Addressing the tension between love and outrage, Sales clarifies that these are not mutually exclusive. She distinguishes between “redemptive anger,” which fuels transformation, and “non-redemptive anger,” rooted in destructive ideologies like white supremacy. She emphasizes that her involvement in the Civil Rights Movement stemmed from a love of justice, not merely hatred of injustice. She advocates for conversations that integrate both outrage at injustice and a vision of love, seeing them as intertwined forces for change.
In closing, Sales reflects on the human condition, advocating for a theology that embraces both universality and particularity. She calls for recognizing the diverse histories and experiences that shape humanity while acknowledging the shared human experiences of love and grief. The challenge, she concludes, lies in developing theologies that weave together the “I” and the “we,” fostering a sense of collective humanity in a diverse world.
Ruby Sales’s insights offer a powerful call to examine the “where does it hurt?” within ourselves and our society, urging us to seek spiritual wholeness through love, justice, and a deeper understanding of our shared humanity.
