Fr Noah Van Niel at the final “Make No Peace With Oppression” adult formation session on March 22.
Over the past five weeks, our Lenten Adult Formation series, “Make No Peace With Oppression,” has taken our parish on a profound journey. We have waded into deep waters, exploring the structural realities of marginalization and our calling as Christians to dismantle them. We learned about the radical roots of Liberation Theology from Dr. David Black. We heard the heartbreaking, prophetic lived experience of Palestinian Christians from the Rev. Canon Leyla King. We explored the local, hidden histories of Hampton Roads’ queer community with historian Charles H. Ford.
In our final session, Fr. Noah brought these threads together to synthesize our theological calling. Transitioning from historical and global perspectives, he challenged us to look at the scriptural foundations of oppression and liberation, and then opened the floor for our parishioners to wrestle with the most important question of all: So, what do we do now?
Fr. Noah opened the floor, recognizing that theology only matters if it changes how we relate to the world and the people around us. The ensuing conversation was a fascinating display of vulnerability and holy listening as parishioners grappled with the material.
One parishioner reflected on the impact of Rev. Leyla King’s presentation, admitting that they were previously unaware of the dire situation of Palestinian Christians. They shared that the session was highly enlightening and prompted them to completely rethink their understanding of the conflict.
Another member spoke to the transformative power of our concurrent Thursday night book study with Second Calvary Baptist Church. Sitting with individuals who have a living memory of profound racial oppression in the South, and sharing those stories across racial and denominational lines, proved to be an eye-opening experience.
The conversation then shifted to the root causes of systemic division. One parishioner asked a poignant question: “If the Civil Rights movement was in the 1960s, how long is it going to take for us to realize the person sitting next to us is just like us?”
Bonnie Primm, a parishioner, weighs in on the discussion.
Expanding on this, another member brought up the primal human emotion of fear, specifically the fear of losing resources. They shared a story of sitting next to a wealthy woman in a former church who was a known slumlord. To soothe her own conscience about how she made her money, the woman constantly vilified the poor people she exploited. The parishioner noted that we avoid compassion to stay comfortable, since acting on our conscience would require effort and sacrifice.
Another voice in the room highlighted how easily any of us can fall into reactive, tribal conflict. Having lived in New York City, this parishioner shared a story of navigating friendships with both a fiercely pro-Israeli friend and a local proudly pro-Palestinian bodega owner. In the heat of those complex, global arguments, they realized their own capacity to harbor reactive, uncharitable thoughts. For them, the power of Christianity is the radical call to surrender that reactivity to God rather than letting it escalate into violence.
Dwight Bucholz, a parishioner, weighs in on the discussion.
The reality of systemic othering was also articulated by a parishioner who lives with autism. They shared that for a long time, they were angry at God for their autism, until they realized that a lot of their anger stems from how people react to their disability, for example, saying, ‘you’re autistic? But you speak so well…”, as if to say they assume being autistic means a life sentence of inarticulacy. Oppression and marginalization take different forms.
Finally, a parishioner offered a vision of how to overcome divides through shared purpose. Reflecting on the 1960s, she recalled being an 18-year-old white woman working for an anti-poverty reading program in Tidewater. she noted that when people are united by a vital mission to serve others, the superficial barriers of race and background fade away. “When we have a mission, we don’t really have time to think about that because we’re focused on our mission,” she said.
B.J. Taylor, a parishioner, weighs in on the discussion.
Where do we go from here?
That focus on mission is exactly where Fr. Noah landed to conclude the session. Our spiritual work must translate into acting against the root causes of oppression right here in Norfolk and the surrounding region, he said.
We cannot simply feed the hungry; we must ask why so many people in our city need a meal on a Thursday afternoon. We must ask whether the housing is affordable, whether wages are livable, and why environmental interventions like sea walls against rising tides are endlessly delayed.
We are firmly grounded in the mission to address the systems that restrict human flourishing. How exactly that work plays out will be the joyful, challenging labor of the weeks and years ahead. But as we step out of this Lenten season and toward the hope of Easter, we do so with a renewed, unshakeable commitment: We will make no peace with oppression.
