By JACK ALVEY | St. Paul’s Episcopal Church

Saturday, August 20 marks 51 years since 26-year-old seminarian Jonathan Daniels, who upon release from jail, was killed by a shotgun blast intended for Ruby Sales, a young African-American woman who went to a local store in Hayneville to buy a Coke. Daniels is remembered in the Episcopal Church as a martyr. The annual commemoration took place last weekend in Hayneville.

Before going to Hayneville, Daniels spent much of his time in Selma. As an Episcopalian, Daniels worshiped at St. Paul’s and developed a relationship with several of the parishioners. In a letter he wrote to the late Kate and Harry Gamble, members of St. Paul’s, Daniels writes, “Though we speak in different accents, though we live perhaps in different worlds, you and we have already begun to live that life in the vision we share.”

Daniels’ relationship with people like the Gambles helped St. Paul’s navigate the chaos of 1965 to become a parish that more fully reflected the kingdom of heaven — integrating the parish.

Like most Episcopalians at the time, Daniels did not initially participate in any of the Civil Rights demonstrations by order of most bishops. After Bloody Sunday, however, Daniels heard from a higher authority, the same authority that called to the Virgin Mary, “the Lord has cast down the might from their thrones.” Daniels got permission from his seminary to travel to Selma the next day.

Daniels was warned by members of St. Paul’s not to travel outside of Selma — it wouldn’t be safe. A week before Daniels was killed he wrote, “I lost fear in the Black Belt when I began to know in my bones and sinews that I had been truly baptized into the Lord’s death and Resurrection, that in the only sense that really matters I am already dead, and my life is hid with Christ in God.” Daniels, however, was not willing to be driven by fear. He was given a faith that would pursue the truth no matter the cost.

Even as we remember Daniels’ remarkable witness 51 years later, race relations in this country are still tenuous. As Mark Twain is known for saying, history doesn’t repeat itself, but history rhymes. And history is certainly rhyming.

In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus says, “Do you think I have come to bring peace? No, I tell you, but rather division! From now on give in one house hold will be divided, three against two and two against three.” In other words, when the truth of God draws near, change is inevitable and with change comes chaos and division.

Before deep healing can begin, we must be willing to walk through the pain ­— following the one who endured the cross and the grave.

Reflecting on this passage in this way tells me that we can interpret the division we see as it relates to race as a sign that God is working through our struggle and confusion to accomplish his purposes on earth. Through the lens of the gospel, division is not necessarily reason to despair. In fact, division is an indicator that the truth of God’s beloved community is drawing near.

Conversations about race are conversations that carry a lot of emotion — a lot of pain, and anger, and shame. As we know through the gospel, we are given a faith that God heals us when we are willing to become most vulnerable to each other. Rich and poor, black and white — we are lost and wandering children trying to find our way back home.

The quicker we see our own brokenness in those who differ most from us, the quicker we will see how the brokenness of Jesus is making a table where all God’s children have a place at the table.

May the truth set you free.