To commemorate the 11th anniversary of the martyrdom of the Emanuel 9 – the Rev. Clementa C. Pinckney, Cynthia Graham Hurd, Susie J. Jackson, Ethel Lee Lance, the Rev. Depayne Middleton-Doctor, Tywanza Kibwe Diop Sanders, the Rev. Daniel Lee Simmons Sr., Sharonda Coleman-Singleton and Myra Singleton Quarles Thompson, our beloved siblings in Christ who were murdered by a self-professed white supremacist and ELCA parishioner while they were gathered for Bible study and prayer at the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church (often referred to as Mother Emanuel) in Charleston, South Carolina on June 17, 2015 – we asked the Rev. Dr, Herman Yoos, former bishop of the South Carolina synod to share some thoughts about this day of repentance.
For more ELCA resources visit: Commemoration of the Emanuel Nine — June 17 – Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (elca.org)
I was on vacation in the mountains of North Carolina in June 2015 when I received the call about the massacre at Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston, S.C. I couldn’t believe it at first. Then, later that day, came the shocking news that the massacre had been committed by a young man whose family belonged to one of our ELCA congregations, who was a white supremacist and whose intention was to start a race war that would spread across the nation.
He might have succeeded except for the unexpected words of forgiveness spoken directly to him in court. When the family members of the nine shooting victims were invited by the judge to address the killer, no one was prepared for the words they spoke. Instead of condemning the shooter, each of the nine family representatives said things such as “We hate what you did to our loved one, but we won’t let sin and hate win the day. We forgive you, and we pray that God forgives you too.”
When their words were reported in the media, total strangers, both Black and white, embraced and prayed together on the streets of Charleston. Thousands of people held hands to form a human chain across the Arthur Ravenel Jr. Bridge between Mount Pleasant and Charleston, expressing their mutual humanity and support. Around the clock, people gathered in front of Mother Emanuel Church with wreaths of flowers, sharing their grief. Several months later, the state leaders of the Republican and Democratic parties appeared on TV, calling for the removal of the Confederate flag from the top of the Capitol, which overwhelmingly passed. It is hard to put into words, but I also felt something deep inside stirring and changing me as well.
A week later, I attended the funeral of the Rev. Clementa C. Pinckney, one of the victims. He was pastor of Mother Emmanuel, a South Carolina state senator and a graduate of Lutheran Theological Southern Seminary. There I sat, behind all the AME bishops and ELCA Presiding Bishop Elizabeth Eaton, listening to amazing tributes about his life and the deep faith he so freely shared with others. While listening, I focused on Mrs. Pinckney, her arms around her two daughters. Her dignity and grace were as powerful a witness as the words being preached about her husband.
As I watched her, I felt as if God were saying, “Herman, you see those two girls? You have two daughters also, don’t you? Yet these girls will never again have their daddy read them bedtime stories or pray with them as you did with yours. These girls will never have their daddy wait for them after their first prom, as you did. They will never have their dad proudly walk them down the aisle on their wedding day nor show up at the hospital with flowers when their first baby is born. All because of the sins of white supremacy and racism.” The scales fell from my eyes, scales of white southern privilege that I had never fully recognized until that day. Along with many tears, there came over me a deep sorrow and repentance that changed how I look at everyone.
Over the next four years, I worked with some synod leaders to host 35 screenings of the movie Selma. We began each session by dedicating our time to the families of the nine martyrs and asking God to help us honor them through our words and actions. Their names were read aloud as we prayed for each family. After the movie, in small groups, we asked, “What is God saying to us through this movie, and how can we build bridges of friendship and respect across our racial divides?” Racial reconciliation became the new lens through which I experienced my deepest call as bishop.
In retirement, I hoped that I would never again be faced with this kind of hatred. But here we are again, living in such a time. When the only immigrants admitted to our country legally are white South Africans, then we are facing that same old hate. When other immigrants are violently arrested, placed in unsanitary detention centers or flown to other countries and incarcerated there, then we are captives of that same old hate. When Black, Brown and women officers in the armed forces are fired or discriminated against for promotion, then we are living with that same old hate. When conservative justices of the Supreme Court vote to gut the Voting Rights Act in the name of being “colorblind” while permitting extreme partisan gerrymandering, then we are experiencing that same old hate and just calling it by another name.
My biggest fear for the church today is not declining worship attendance nor lack of financial resources for pursuing God’s mission in the world. No, it is the rising influence of white Christian nationalism in our culture and politics. This reality runs so much deeper than who currently holds office. Presidents come and go, and policies change. But these attitudes of racial hatred, exclusion and fear, reinforced by dominant white male leadership, is a soul sickness that infects not just our country but our congregations as well. Like stubborn weeds that are easy to grow but hard to uproot, these attitudes can be eliminated only by soul-searching, repentance, deep prayer and clinging to the forgiveness and grace of God in Jesus Christ.
My prayer is that we will never forget the martyrs of Mother Emanuel: the Rev. Clementa C. Pinckney, Cynthia Graham Hurd, Susie J. Jackson, Ethel Lee Lance, the Rev. Depayne Middleton-Doctor, Tywanza Kibwe Diop Sanders, the Rev. Daniel Lee Simmons Sr., Sharonda Coleman-Singleton and Myra Singleton Quarles Thompson. May we always remember their families’ forgiveness and join them in their commitment to not let hate win our day.
Bio: Desta Goehner is president of the Association of White Lutherans for Racial Justice and the Director of Thriving Leadership Formation, with 27-plus years of serving in different expressions of the ELCA. She is a trauma-informed spiritual director and a professional Enneagram coach for people and teams in ministry, specializing in conflict resolution, facilitation, leadership and spiritual formation. Desta’s work is dedicated to fostering racial justice, personal growth and healthy, anti-racist leadership in faith communities. For more about her visit