‘Faith, hope and love’ must abide to make sure that everyone has equal rights in this country

“When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child, when I became a man (woman in my case) I gave up childish ways. For now we see in a mirror dimly, then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known. So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three: but the greatest of these is LOVE.”

Being a cradle Episcopalian and having attended Episcopal schools, I memorized by rote the Morning Prayer service and Bible verses all through school, including I Corinthians 13. Once the Eucharistic service became weekly, I memorized it as well. My family attended church every Sunday with my Mom’s parents Granny and Fafa on the aisle end of the pew and their grandchildren and Mom sitting on down the row. (Dad was usually in choir.) And where was this pew? In the Confederate Episcopal Church in Richmond, Va., called St. Paul’s. Fafa’s pew was next to the exquisite Tiffany stained glass window of Moses descending stairs with a staff in his hand dedicated to the Confederate General Robert E. Lee. Granny and Fafa lived on Monument Avenue between the two HUGE Lee and Jeb Stuart statues centered in roundabouts. Goodness, what a beautiful and historical street with a wide grassy area dividing the lanes going east and west and separating the monuments depicting the losing Generals of the Civil War – Jackson, Lee and Jeb Stuart – and telling their own stories in that those facing north died, those south survived. Their portion of Monument Ave also had original cobble stone. My siblings and I loved hearing the rumble of cars driving past their house through the third-floor window when we spent the night. Everything was magical. Or was it?

In the 1960s, my childhood indifference began to change. I heard about Rosa Parks, Ruby Bridges and the Selma Bridge March. I began to understand the meaning of “racism” with the riots and assassination of Martin Luther King, the Vietnam War taking the lives of personal friends and many, many drafted young men both white and African-American. No…I didn’t think about “white privilege” then. Never even heard the term until my Lexington church, The Church of the Good Shepherd, had a seminar given by the Executive Director of the Absalom Jones Center for Racial Healing, Dr. Catherine Meeks in 2017. Yes, I supported equality and justice for ALL and I still do, but indeed the Black Lives Matter movement and the deaths of George Floyd and Kentuckian Breonna Taylor smacked me in the face with the “white privilege” I’ve enjoyed. I’ve never been accused of breaking into my own home. I’ve never been pulled over for a “broken tail light”. I’ve never had to gasp the words “I can’t breathe” while a knee holds down my neck. I’ve never been denied education, a mortgage or a job, or a seat at the table because of the color of my skin. Confederate symbols of oppression and inequality, which also glorify those advocating the ideals of a war fought over a 150 years ago, whether as a statue, rule of law, or an attitude need to be taken down and/or changed. It is time for EVERYONE to have full participation in a country that is supposed to have, and a Constitution touting, “liberty and justice for all”.

Indeed, I’m beginning to understand fully those words from I Corinthians. It’s time to grow up, to fight for, and to promote racial justice and equality. My faith has taught me that there is “faith, hope, and love.” I hope we all can practice the greatest of these: LOVE.

Alice Dehner is a native of Richmond, Va. and a resident of Lexington.