In honor of Black History Month, ELCA Racial Justice Ministries will be elevating the voices of our African Descent peers and reposting their works from others sources around the ELCA. The following article is cross-posted from Living Lutheran online. The original post can be found here.

My take: Still Black. Still Lutheran

By Nicolette Peñaranda |February 3, 2025

It wasn’t long ago that Gov. Tim Walz was first announced as the Democratic nominee for U.S. vice president, alongside presidential candidate Kamala Harris. Moments after Harris declared her running mate, posts about Walz being a Lutheran began to pop up across social media.

“One of us!” I remember cheering as I sat on the couch in the faculty lodge of Pinecrest Lutheran Leadership Ministries. This ticket would be one of those rare moments when my identity would be fully displayed to the American people. A powerful, competent, multiethnic Black woman and a Midwest Lutheran represented the Democratic Party for the highest offices. What a rare and divine moment!

I know I wasn’t alone in this sentiment. One of my colleagues is, like Harris, a Black woman from Northern California who attended a Historically Black College and University (HBCU), pledged to a Black sorority and has had to work twice as hard as her white counterparts to get where she is today. Her story is my story. Our story is the story of thousands of other Black women in this church.

Many of us in ministry are aware that the odds are stacked against us. We intern in ministerial contexts that counter our lived experiences. Some of us complete second master’s degrees while waiting for a call or a work opportunity. If we attend a Lutheran seminary, we spend most of our education completing coursework while acting as racial justice translators in the classroom, fielding questions about our blackness and Lutheran identity.

Our nonclergy sisters do the same in their contexts. Black women in medicine must explain that they are the doctor and not the social worker. Black women in education must teach their 22-year-old counterparts from Teach for America about trauma-informed approaches to learning. Because of the additional work we are tasked with while working or completing our education, we are experts in both the content and in navigating white mediocrity, the truth that many professional settings are skewed in favor of white Americans.

This story is not about who won the presidential election nor about political parties. Rather, it’s about holding in tension the struggle that Black women face in the professional world. Regardless of our qualifications and professional experience, we aren’t considered for leadership positions, a situation not exclusive to the secular world.

An abusive relationship

I bring up Walz, a lifelong Lutheran who said yes to supporting a Black woman for president. Walz accepting the vice presidential nomination was more countercultural to most ELCA congregations than we realize. For over a decade, Black women candidates for ministry have waited three to five years for their first call. This means that if they were fortunate enough to interview at even four congregations a year, 1 out of every 12 to 20 congregations affirms a Black woman’s call to word and sacrament ministry. After nearly 40 years of Black women being ordained in the ELCA, only three have been elected as a synod bishop.

Since the inception of the ELCA, only two Black women have served as executive director for a home area. One of them saw her position eliminated, and the other works in People Solutions, which is mostly a human resources team. Wyvetta Bullock, an ELCA pastor, has held one of the highest offices in the ELCA as the executive for administration, but no ELCA seminary, college or university has had a Black woman as president. In 2022 at least four Black women were forced out of their ELCA congregations within two months.

The sobering truth is that Black women have been in an abusive relationship with the ELCA for a long time. Perhaps that is why the Walz announcement for the Harris ticket felt so special. Maybe this would start a trend in our denomination.

The reality is that Harris did not win the presidency. It didn’t matter that she was only the second presidential candidate ever to have worked inside all three branches of government. It didn’t matter that she had clear and concise policy proposals or that some of her positions even aligned with the Republican Party. She lost support in most demographics except the Black community and millennials. It’s challenging to find hope for ministry in a church with the same demographics as those who didn’t see one of the people most qualified for office as fit to serve.

What does this mean?

What, then, does this mean for those of us asked to educate the masses within the ELCA? At what point do we just become a broken record for racial justice to ears that refuse to hear it? When is it appropriate to call the time of death for these DEI (diversity, equity and inclusion) workshops and cultural competency talks?

I’m not quite sure how we move forward to pay homage to Black leaders in our church when we refuse to address the elephant in the room. Some leaders still don’t think we should be in the pulpit nor the Oval Office. For years we have documented, celebrated and named the historic contributions Black leaders have offered our church, and still we have not seen our white counterparts build a base of people to support our ministry and advocate for equitable work opportunities.

So, rather than provide more resources and community discussions, I hope congregations will watch all three seasons of “Talks at the Desk” this Black History Month. Use the discussion guides and pledge to make a special offering all month for the African Descent Lutheran Association or the 66th Synod Reparations Fund. But until we start using the resources we already have and apply change, then we will never be free.

In honor of International Day for People of African Descent, which is observed internationally on August 31 each year, ELCA Racial Justice Ministries invited ELCA Director for Innovation and Ideas to share some thoughts about being a person of African descent. For more information on International Day for People of African Descent, visit International Day for People of African Descent – EN | United Nations.

Names carry immense significance. They are a marker of identity, heritage and personal history. Because I am of African descent, my name is a reflection of and connection to my ancestral roots and cultural identity. However, in a world shaped by patriarchy and systemic biases, the journey of owning and explaining one’s name can be a challenging experience. One wants to maintain one’s culture and hold it dear to one’s heart, but this can be difficult because not everything about one’s culture is worth maintaining and, like many other things, culture evolves over time.

In many African cultures names are not merely labels but encapsulate stories, values and histories. A name might signify a particular event, convey hopes for the future or reflect familial lineage. For example, my name is Rahel Mwitula Williams; however, I was born Rahel Norbert Mwitula. Yes, my father’s first name is my middle name because, in our culture, this is a way to trace one’s lineage. So I am Rahel, daughter of Norbert, of the Mwitula clan. I can trace my lineage back through many generations: Rahel Norbert Yoram Mtemibala Mwitula. Here is the breakdown:

• Rahel, daughter of Norbert.
• Granddaughter of Yoram.
• Great-granddaughter Mtemibala.
• of the Mwitula clan.

When I got married, maintaining my African heritage was important to me, so I made my clan name my middle name, which is not traditional in our culture. In theory I was supposed to be Rahel Jason Williams (yes, you read that right), taking my husband’s full name as per patriarchal custom. However, I went against these cultural norms and decided to go with Rahel Mwitula Williams. Hence, I personally want people to respect and acknowledge my full name as I choose to identify.

Unfortunately I constantly must fight people and institutions to ensure that they say and acknowledge my full, complete name as I identify myself. (And don’t get me started on the difference between Rachel and Rahel.) For example, I found out that I have two email addresses at work, Rahel.Williams@elca.org and Rahel.Mwitula-Williams@elca.org, because it was considered a “good idea” to give people options. However, there is no option with my name. It is what it is — Rahel Mwitula Williams. I decide what I want to identify as, just like any other group fighting for their identity.

Choosing to own and proudly use one’s given name in such an environment is a powerful act of resistance. It is a declaration of my self-worth and an affirmation of my cultural identity. At the same time, society is more patient with those from the global north than with those from the global south. People from the global south are repeatedly asked to come up with a global-north name or nickname but not the other way around.

• My name is an affirmation of my identity, connecting me to my heritage and personal history. It is a daily reminder of where I come from and the stories of my ancestors.
• My name gives me the opportunity to educate others about my culture, promote diversity and foster greater understanding and respect.
• My name breaks stereotypes and challenges the notion that non-Western names are inferior or inconvenient. It confronts the biases ingrained in patriarchal and colonial mindsets.
• My name empowers me to refuse to conform when I am pressured to change and fit in. It is a statement that I value my identity and heritage, regardless of societal expectations.

I am Rahel Mwitula Williams.

Rahel Mwitula Williams is director for innovation and ideas with the ELCA, having previously served as director of Global Mission funding. Born and raised in Tanzania, East Africa, she migrated to the United States with her family at age 12. Rahel is a member of Shekinah Chapel, a Lutheran church in Riverdale, Ill., where her husband, the Rev. Jason Williams, serves as pastor.

She holds a B.S. in psychology from Loyola University, a Master of Science degree in international public service from DePaul University and an executive scholar certificate in nonprofit management from Kellogg School of Management at Northwestern University.

She is a founder and the creative director of ILAVA, a social enterprise that uses fashion to inspire and implement change around the world

In addition to her roles at the ELCA and ILAVA, Rahel is a nonprofit development executive who specializes in working with major donors, both in the United States and internationally. Rahel achieved a significant personal milestone in 2023 by climbing to the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro, one of her proudest moments.

For more from Rahel Mwitula Williams: 

• www.myilava.com
• Blog | RMW Corporation (rahelmwitulawilliams.com)
• Chasing Uhuru Peak: Mt Kilimanjaro Experience by Rahel Mwitula Williams (youtube.com)
• Redefining Philanthropy: Faces of Change Makers | Rahel Mwitula Williams | TEDxNorthwesternU (youtube.com)

In honor of Juneteenth, ELCA Racial Justice Ministries invited Dr. Dianne R. Browne, Ph.D., CFLE, CSE, Chair of the ELCA New Jersey Synod’s Anti-Racism Team to share some thoughts about this federal holiday that many mark as the official end of legalized human enslavement in the United States. For more information on Juneteenth, visit What Is Juneteenth? | HISTORY.

I am from the Northeast, so I never celebrated Juneteenth as a young person. I knew about it because my maternal grandmother was from the South. My grandmother and mother shared stories about our history and their lived experiences. At first, I was disinterested, but their conversations helped me to understand and appreciate the ongoing struggle for racial justice and equity.

Let us talk about Juneteenth in that context. The Emancipation Proclamation was enacted in 1863. On June 19, 1865, two years later, when some 2,000 Union troops arrived in Galveston Bay, Texas, the army announced that the more than 250,000 enslaved Black people in the state were free by executive decree.

Younger generations may dismiss Juneteenth as history—it happened in the past, so why is it important? Share with them that it is sankofa. That word, which comes from the Akan people of Ghana, means learning from the past to move forward in the future. We are still learning from that dream deferred in 1865. We learned to have hope, to keep moving forward and not to be deterred in our efforts for racial justice.

Talk about Juneteenth! These conversations give fodder for the never-ending quest for a sometimes elusive racial justice and equity. Know that Juneteenth was freedom overdue; that the color red, including red food on Juneteenth, is significant, as it represents the blood shed during the transatlantic slave passage; that barbecues at Juneteenth celebrations offer foods that may be representative of what was brought to Texas by the enslaved Yoruba and Kongo people in the 19th century. Keep learning and preaching to folks younger than you!

On Juneteenth, as during the Jim Crow and civil rights eras, folks had to wait. In their waiting they were compelled to do something: to keep on pushing and to act by motivating others until the dream deferred was expedited.

The Bible encourages us in our actions. Micah 6:8 calls to us in this quest, “He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God” (NIV).

We know that racial justice is good and that action is needed to bring it to fruition. Encourage younger generations to press on. We are still in the struggle against a socialization that has embodied both personal and public white supremacy for generations. We are still questing for racial justice and equity, a dream deferred. We can get closer to that justice and equity through courageous intergenerational conversation.

A quote from James Baldwin sums it up: “Children have never been very good at listening to their elders, but they have never failed to imitate them.”

Dianne R. Browne, Ph.D., CFLE, CSE, Chair, ELCA New Jersey Synod Anti-Racism Team

Dianne Browne is a retired educator and trainer. Her work has focused on racial and reproductive justice, family life, and equity and inclusion. She is chairperson for the New Jersey Synod’s anti-racism team and facilitates discussions for its Transforming White Privilege curriculum. She is a member of St. Luke Lutheran Church in Willingboro, NJ.

References:  National Museum of African American History & Culture

Celebrate Black History Month with season three of “Talks at the Desk,” a four-part video series by African Descent Ministries of the ELCA. This season focuses on the Reclaim Gathering and will explore its themes: reclaim, embolden, embody and liberate. A new video will premiere each Wednesday in February at 7:30 p.m. Central time beginning Feb. 7. Watch live at https://youtube.com/ELCA.

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