Tag Archives: lament

Preaching, Sermons

A Sermon for Mental Illness Awareness Week – Mark 9:38-50, James 5:13-20, and Psalm 19:7-14

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church, September 29, 2024

[sermon begins after the Bible reading; the other two readings follow the sermon]

Mark 9:38-50  ohn said to [Jesus], “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us.” 39But Jesus said, “Do not stop him; for no one who does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterward to speak evil of me. 40Whoever is not against us is for us. 41For truly I tell you, whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward.
42“If any of you put a stumbling block before one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea. 43If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life maimed than to have two hands and to go to hell, to the unquenchable fire. 45And if your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off; it is better for you to enter life lame than to have two feet and to be thrown into hell. 47And if your eye causes you to stumble, tear it out; it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into hell, 48where their worm never dies, and the fire is never quenched.
49“For everyone will be salted with fire. 50Salt is good; but if salt has lost its saltiness, how can you season it? Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another.”

[sermon begins]

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. (Psalm 19:14)

Kids are silly and playful and smart. They inspire songs that get faster each time we sing them and one of them ends like this [wait just a sec, I have to show you this one], “Hip-hip-hip-o-potamus…hip hip hooray, God made all of us; hip-hip-hip-o-potamus…hip hip hooray, God made all of us!”

Every Wednesday here on the front floor in our Sanctuary, the kiddos of our (Augustana) Early Learning Center are led through Chapel by Deacon Shanna, Sue Ann, Pastor Karen, Andy, and me. We take turns week to week telling Bible stories, singing songs, and praying with the kids who have lots of their own stories to tell and questions to ask. Affordable and quality early childhood education and care are tough to come by in Denver and becoming tougher every day. But you all are a part of making it happen. The kids in chapel are adorable and challenging and they can be somewhat invisible on the protected first floor of the downhill hill side of our building – a full two stories below the level we’re on now. And yet they’re one of our congregation’s most significant outreaches to our community.

Last Sunday, in the verses just before our Mark reading this Sunday, Jesus took a child into his arms to teach his disciples that to be the greatest you must aspire to be the least and the last. In verse 37, Jesus said, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.” Jesus made the claim that children are sacramental, they are God among us.[1] He includes these vulnerable littles in God’s protection while he’s likely still holding that child.

He taught his disciples that it’s better to amputate, drown, or die than to put a stumbling block in between Jesus and the littles. By the way, those are not ways for us to hurt others. Jesus is commanding self-examination, not capital punishment. But that’s a whole other sermon. Equally as important, Jesus is not commanding self-mutilation or self-harm. That doesn’t jive with his teachings to love our neighbors as ourselves. This teaching, lit up with judgment, demands compassion from us – active compassion that shapes a world towards God’s vision of abundant life for vulnerable children and people. Children and people who are easily forgotten because they may not be in our line of sight, or we perceive them to be on a different level, or more to the point, on a lower level. Invisible in our day-to-day reality.

Invisibility brings me to the main point of the day as we spotlight Mental Illness Awareness Week coming up in the first week of October. Today our E4 Mental Health Team helps our congregation make the invisible visible. We light candles, pray, preach, and sing to focus on our loved ones’ and our own struggles with mental health. Next Sunday, our Health Ministry is inviting teens 14 years old and older, their parents, and other caring adults to watch My Sister Liv, a movie that spotlights one family’s story that includes Liv’s death by suicide. Research shows that talking about suicide reduces suicidal ideation which reduces attempts which reduces deaths. Subjects that end up off limits or taboo make healthy conversations about them more difficult. This is as true about mental illness as it is about money, sex, and politics. Healthy conversations start with at least being willing to raise the topic. It’s free to adult and teens over 14 years old. There will be childcare for those too young to be there. Come. Let Liv and her family teach us how to do things differently.

The movie will be followed by a short panel discussion that I’m on alongside mental health professionals. Why include a pastor in a panel about mental health? Because church has done a poor job on the issue of mental health. Some of that is because the culture hasn’t understood it either so there are Christians telling each other that all they have to do to get better is to have more faith or pray harder. Maybe even worse, Christians telling non-Christians that if only they had faith, then they wouldn’t be in the mental mess they’re in. Faith isn’t protective against mental illness. However, we do know that being part of a faith community offers relationships that strengthen our capacity to connect with each other about hard things like being mentally ill.

As church, we’re called to be a peculiar people who live a little differently into the future hope to which we’ve been called. God’s call into community is in stark opposition to the cultural value of rugged individualism that tells us we can fix ourselves through self-help. Which brings us to the fifth and final week of Bible readings from the book of James. James wrote about faith that makes demands of us. He was worried that if grace is too easy and too free, then the people most affected by our sin will be the powerless, the invisible.[2] There’s a reason why Lutheran Christians are partial to being saved by grace through faith. It’s because grace is God’s unconditional claim on us. We don’t make our way to God by any amount of do-goodery. If that were the case, how would we ever know if we’d been good enough? Trusting God’s grace IS the option. But James says, “Oh, so you have faith, good, nice, how about you show me.”[3] In our verses today, he’s done a solid job showing what faithful behavior looks like in the church. Pray for those who suffer. Sing with those who are happy. Anoint those who are sick. Forgive those who sin. Welcome back those who left.

None of us can do all the good things we’re called to do all of the time – to argue that we can is just absurd. But the beauty of the church is that we are a people who can take turns praying, singing, anointing, forgiving, and welcoming. This is as true for mental illness as it is for everything else. Opening up taboo topics acknowledges our whole selves before God and that God’s grace is enough to contain us. Talking about things that we’d rather didn’t exist reassures our children that we can talk about things that are true even if they’re hard. Our courage in talking about hard things means that our children don’t feel that they have to protect the grown-ups around them.

In the same breath, it’s also important that we help each other see the fullness of life. Sharing the events, relationships, and wonders that delight us and make us feel lucky to be alive are just as important to our well-being and the well-being of our children. The delight and wonder are an antidote to the overwhelming news from just about every part of the globe including here in the States. Delight and wonder don’t erase the challenges or the pain but they do remind us that life is a gift. They’re not rose-colored glasses. Delight and wonder are life illuminating glasses that reveal the goodness of life alongside the sorrow. The Hippo Song alongside the lament. The laughter of the small child embedded in the complexity of adulting.

We’re each differently equipped to offer help and support to those of us experiencing the lament of illness. If you yourself are struggling with mental illness, even still you can offer solidarity to someone else in a similar struggle – the laughter over a shared reality that is not at all funny is utterly priceless – a shared song that reminds us God is with us in the darkness and in the light.

In a minute, we’re going to sing a song not quite as silly as the Hippo Song but just as reassuring of God’s presence and love of us in the darkness and the light. During our song we have the choice to light candles that illuminate our prayers for the people we know who struggle with mental illness.

Our song reminds us that they are not alone, and neither are we. We are together and God is with us. Thanks be to God, and amen.

_____________________________________________________

[1] Philip Ruge-Jones, Associate Pastor, Grace Lutheran Church, Eau Claire, WI. Commentary on Mark 9:38-50 for September 29, 2024. Commentary on Mark 9:38-50 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[2] Matt Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Discussion about Bible readings for September 29, 2024. Working Preacher’s Sermon Brainwave: #984: Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost (Ord. 26B) – September 29, 2024 (libsyn.com)

[3] Ibid.

________________________________________________________

James 5:13-20 Are any among you suffering? They should pray. Are any cheerful? They should sing songs of praise. 14Are any among you sick? They should call for the elders of the church and have them pray over them, anointing them with oil in the name of the Lord. 15The prayer of faith will save the sick, and the Lord will raise them up; and anyone who has committed sins will be forgiven. 16Therefore confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another, so that you may be healed. The prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective. 17Elijah was a human being like us, and he prayed fervently that it might not rain, and for three years and six months it did not rain on the earth. 18Then he prayed again, and the heaven gave rain and the earth yielded its harvest.
19My brothers and sisters, if anyone among you wanders from the truth and is brought back by another, 20you should know that whoever brings back a sinner from wandering will save the sinner’s soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins.

Psalm 19:7-14

The teaching of the Lord is perfect and revives the soul;
the testimony of the Lord is sure and gives wisdom to the simple.
8The statutes of the Lord are just and rejoice the heart;
the commandment of the Lord is clear and gives light to the eyes.
9The fear of the Lord is clean and endures forever;
the judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.
10More to be desired are they than gold, more than much fine gold,
sweeter far than honey, than honey in the comb. 
11By them also is your servant enlightened,
and in keeping them there is great reward.
12Who can detect one’s own offenses?
Cleanse me from my secret faults.
13Above all, keep your servant from presumptuous sins; let them not get dominion over me;
then shall I be whole and sound, and innocent of a great offense.
14Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer. 

Sermons

Simultaneous Lament and Gratitude – Luke 17:11-19

Pastor Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church, Thanksgiving Eve, November 25, 2015

[sermon begins after Bible story]

Luke 17:11-19  On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee. 12 As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him. Keeping their distance, 13 they called out, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” 14 When he saw them, he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were made clean. 15 Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. 16 He prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. 17 Then Jesus asked, “Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? 18 Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” 19 Then he said to him, “Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.”

[sermon begins]

Almost exactly 15 years ago, I was serving as Council Vice President of my family’s congregation.  Pastor-land was not yet on the horizon.  It was a leadership design such that when elected by the congregation to Vice President, it was also an election to be President the following year.  My year spent as Council Vice President was partly a year during which I watched the current President closely, basically picking up the nuts and bolts of what was expected by way of responsibilities.  It was a fun and challenging year getting to know this way of serving the church.

During one Council meeting, discussion became heated.  This can happen at Council meetings.  After all, people who love Jesus and who love their church tend to bring some passion to the task.  And as General George Patton said, “If everybody is thinking alike, then somebody isn’t thinking.”[1]  Our Council President let the conversation and disagreement follow its course for a bit and then did this thing with her hands.  Two of her fingers were raised up like closed peace sign.  Making a half-circle with her hands in the air she closed her fingers and thumb together and said, “Let’s press pause.”  Essentially pressing invisible buttons in mid-air.  And that pause, along her summary of the key points, gave people some time to reflect and regroup.  Probably gave some time for the gray matter to kick in so that thinking could happen after reacting.

“Let’s press pause.”  A great line and a good move.  Giving people time.  Time to see.  Time to think.  Time to respond well.

The tenth leper in the Bible story could be having a similar “press pause” moment.  He is hanging out with his fellow lepers – likely long cut-off from their families and community.  They know the rules.  No contact between people with leprosy and people who are well.  They are socially, religiously, and physically unclean.[2]  The ten lepers yell out to Jesus from a distance, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!”  Somehow they know about this Jesus as they roam in the borderland between Samaria and Galilee.  They cry out to Jesus.  “Have mercy on us!”  There is the first pause.  The pause for lament, to cry out for mercy.

We “press pause” for communal lament in worship on Sundays during the Kyrie when we sing together, “Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy, Lord have mercy.”  That lament we do together, singing to the Lord all of our individual laments poured into one voice made up of many.  “Christ have mercy.”

Because of the lament of the lepers in the borderland, this is a timely passage for our reflection this evening.  Many of us bring into this sanctuary questions about borders, who crosses them and who doesn’t.  Some of us bring the fear of the villagers in the story who need the lepers to stay contained.  Except in our 21st century moment, the undesirables are not as easy to spot and contain.  So there is fear.  There is heated conversation.  There is a love of country, love of world, and love of life.  And right now, there is time to “press pause,” bringing a lament to Christ.  “Have mercy on us!”

In the Bible story, the lepers’ lament “presses pause” on whatever Jesus was heading to do.  Giving Jesus time to see.  Time to think.  Jesus sees the lepers, talks to them, heals them on their way to the priests, restoring them to family and community.  All ten of them receive this healing from Jesus through no merit of their own.  They didn’t earn it, not one of them proving themselves worthy of help first.

One of the now healed men “presses pause” on the way to the priests. The healed man sees what just happened, the healing that’s taken place.  He pauses to use his gray matter to think.  Before following Jesus’ direction to continue on to the priests, he turns around to go thank Jesus.  The healed man thanks Jesus first by flinging himself down at Jesus’ feet. That is no less than enthusiastic gratitude!  Jesus points out that it is the “foreigner” of the ten who returns to give praise and thanks. The tenth man, however, presses pause, giving praise to God and gratitude to Jesus.  We could describe what the tenth man does in a single word – worship.

We follow this healed man’s example in our Sunday worship.  After we sing the Kyrie together, giving voice to our lament, very often we sing a song of praise and thanksgiving.  Pressing pause, and giving thanks and praise to God at the beginning of our worship just as the healed man does.

Of the other nine men, Jesus asks, “Where are they?”  Note for a moment that the other nine do nothing wrong.[3] They do exactly what Jesus asks them to do and they retain their healing.  To the healed man lying on the ground in front of him, Jesus says, “Get up, go on your way, your faith has made you well.”  The word translated as “well” is translated from the word “sodzo” in the Greek.  Sodzo is translated across the New Testament in multiple ways.  In the verses today it reads “well.”  In other places it reads healed, made whole, or saved.[4]  All ten lepers are healed.  One returns to Jesus after pressing pause, thinking.  He is not just healed but “is made whole, restored, drawn back into relationship with God and humanity” – in a word, saved.[5]

We talked in Adult Sunday School these past few weeks about the Gospel of Luke.  Salvation is a big theme in this gospel.  Salvation being communal, concrete, and cosmic.  Jesus followers hear his word and act on it.  Tangible acts of healing, feeding, inclusivity, restoration, liberation, and prophetic action taking place in community with each other.[6]  We also talked about whether or not we could see our need for Jesus.  Salvation and need go hand-in-hand.  The lepers saw their need clearly.  They wore it on their skin.  We’re better at hiding our need, or at least not acknowledging it with other people or maybe even to ourselves.  Yet here we are together.  In need.  Bringing lament.  Bringing gratitude.  Lament and gratitude simultaneously.

Many of us don’t have the luxury of the linear progression from lament to gratitude that the lepers do.  We carry both lament and gratitude at the same time.  A lament for a relationship gone awry. A lament for a health issue of our own or someone we love.  A lament for our own fear in a world of uncertainty.  A lament for so many people around the world and in our own neighborhoods who cry out for help.

Woven through our lament here together, gratitude pours out in praise to God and thanksgiving to Jesus.  Gratitude for our life and breath.  Gratitude for family and friends Gratitude for work and pay if we are employed or retired well.  Gratitude for our congregation through whom we hear God’s good Word to challenge us and to comfort us as well the community of the body of Christ to connect us.  Gratitude for God in whom we live and move and have our very being.

By grace, salvation is given to us in Christ Jesus.  Like the lepers, it is without merit – pure gift.  “For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God.”[7]  Praise God and thank you Jesus!  Amen.

 

 

[1] George Patton, US Army Commanding General, World War II (1941-1945). http://www.generalpatton.com/quotes/

[2] David Lose, President of Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia, for Working Preacher, Commentary on Luke 17:11-19 on October 10, 2010.  https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=783

[3] David Lose, “Dear Working Preacher…” October 7, 2013. http://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=2796

[4] Lose, October 10, 2010.  https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=783

[5] Ibid.

[6] Raymond Pickett, Professor of New Testament, Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago.  The Year of Luke in Sundays and Seasons 2016.  (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 2015), 12-14.

[7] Ephesians 2:8-9

Sermons

Grace and the White-Washing of Race – Mark 4:35-41 and 2 Corinthians 8:7-15

Grace and the White-Washing of Race – Mark 4:35-41 and 2 Corinthians 8:7-15

Pastor Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on June 21, 2015

 

[sermon begins after the two Bible readings]

Mark 4:35-41  On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, “Let us go across to the other side.” 36 And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. 37 A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. 38 But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” 39 He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm. 40 He said to them, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?” 41 And they were filled with great awe and said to one another, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?”

2 Corinthians 8:7-15  Now as you excel in everything—in faith, in speech, in knowledge, in utmost eagerness, and in our love for you —so we want you to excel also in this generous undertaking. 8 I do not say this as a command, but I am testing the genuineness of your love against the earnestness of others. 9 For you know the generous act of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich. 10 And in this matter I am giving my advice: it is appropriate for you who began last year not only to do something but even to desire to do something— 11 now finish doing it, so that your eagerness may be matched by completing it according to your means. 12 For if the eagerness is there, the gift is acceptable according to what one has—not according to what one does not have. 13 I do not mean that there should be relief for others and pressure on you, but it is a question of a fair balance between 14 your present abundance and their need, so that their abundance may be for your need, in order that there may be a fair balance. 15 As it is written, “The one who had much did not have too much, and the one who had little did not have too little.”

[sermon begins]

 

There’s a small bit of verse 35 missing from the Mark reading in our worship bulletin.  Verse 35 should begin, “On that day, when evening had come…”  So, go ahead and take a pen from the back of the seat in front of you and write in that beginning part of verse 35, “on that day…”

This little bit of Bible verse begs the question about what day Jesus is talking about.  On what day?  The answer is in the Bible stories before the one about the storm today.  In those stories, there are so many people that came to hear Jesus that he has to hop into a boat to teach the people on the shore.  In his teaching, Jesus makes several attempts to describe the kingdom of God.  In one he talks about a farmer planting seeds that the birds steal.  In another, he talks about the greatest of all shrubs that shades even those dastardly birds, the enemies of the kingdom.  The invasive mystery of the kingdom of God is ringing in the listeners’ ears on that day.

Ears ringing, their minds are bent by these kingdom mysteries.  It’s been a long, hot afternoon listening to Jesus.  His disciples are likely ready for a good night’s sleep.  Instead, they hear Jesus say, “Let us go across to the other side.”  Jesus wants them to head over to the country of the Gerasenes, full of Gentiles, non-Jews.  As the boat people go from here to there, shore-to-shore, they are pumped with the adrenalin rush of the storm and the inertia of a dead calm in the aftermath. Their teeth and nerves are rattled by the waves beating into boat.  It’s a wonder they had a clear thought in their head much less a memory of Jesus’ kingdom-of-God speeches from earlier in the day.

It’s a bit quieter for us here together today than it was in that boat. Our minds may be a bit clearer than those of the boat people post-storm.  Although maybe not by much.  Wednesday evening’s murders of nine Black church goers in South Carolina has seen to that.  Honestly?  When I first heard about the killings I simply shut them out.  Another shooting, more people dead.  I’d apparently reached a point where compassion fatigue for this kind of thing had set in.

I can’t even believe I say it that way – “this kind of thing.”  As if it were possible to label a manila folder and file it away.  I’d already had the direction of the sermon worked out to include topics like our interim transition and the rebuilding taking place within the Children and Family ministry.  Then I heard Jesus’ words to his friends in the Bible story again.  “Let us go across to the other side.”  I don’t know how the Holy Spirit calls you out through scripture.  But this is one time when I feel utterly called out.  The churchy word for this feeling is convicted. Convicted by the awareness that the color of my skin allows me to whitewash someone else’s experience as if it didn’t happen.

Along with Jesus’ friends in the boat, I want to scream at Jesus, “Do you not care that we are perishing?”  And then, I opened The Denver Post yesterday to this headline – “Ungodly Deed Forgiven.”[1]  When I saw the headline, I asked myself immediately who would have the audacity?!  Reading further, and then listening online to the bond hearing, reveals a word to the killer from our Christian brothers and sisters whose friends and families were killed during their Bible study on Wednesday night.

Person after person spoke a word of forgiveness to the killer at that bond hearing.  Through anger, tears, and grief, to be sure.  But words of forgiveness spoken so that love wins, not hate.  These friends and family members’ words to the killer echo out of Paul’s letter to those defiant Corinthians. Paul writes:

We are treated as impostors, and yet are true; 9 as unknown, and yet are well known; as dying, and see—we are alive; as punished, and yet not killed; 10 as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything. 11 We have spoken frankly to you Corinthians; our heart is wide open to you. 12 There is no restriction in our affections, but only in yours. 13 In return—I speak as to children—open wide your hearts also.

My friends, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. preached a Holy Week sermon in Augustana’s sanctuary pulpit here some fifty years ago. This is a point of historical pride for many in this congregation including me.  Many of us may wish that enough time has passed between slavery, Jim Crow, Civil Rights, and today.  But it hasn’t.  Perhaps because it’s not as much about time passing as it is about Jesus calling us out on the ways we dehumanize each other.  One way this tendency to dehumanize gets lived out has been the development of the concept of race.

It’s been argued that our experience of race in the 21st century is a product of modernity over the last few hundred years.[2]  Now that it’s been constructed, the calls to deconstruct it are getting louder.  Race has too long been a matter of life and death.  As Jesus people in America, we have work to do.  As Jesus people of Augustana, we each live a story affected positively or negatively by the color of our skin – including the white-skinned among us.  Finding ways to tell our stories and listen with care to other people’s experiences is one part of deconstructing the inherited system of race bequeathed by modernity.

As Jesus people in worship here together in this congregation, we regularly confess that we sin in ways that we don’t even understand.  By extension then, we sin when it comes to race.  As Jesus people, we have something to offer the national conversation about race in terms of sin and grace.

A few years ago, Bono, the lead singer of the rock band U2, was interviewed about his Christian faith.[3]  He had this to say about grace, “…along comes this idea called Grace to upend all that ‘as you reap, so you will sow’ stuff…Grace defies reason and logic; love interrupts.”[4]  This is what our Christian brothers and sisters in Charleston did with their words of forgiveness.  They preach to us on this day as their historic congregation experiences violence again.[5]  I pray that they may be consoled.  And I pray that our Augustana mission to “offer hope and healing in Jesus Christ” allows room among us to hear their lament, including their anger.

God extends forgiveness and grace to each one of us on all kinds of days, for all kinds of reasons.  As forgiven people, Jesus calls us as disciples to go across to the other side where other people tell a story much different than our own.  For those of us who are part of a congregation, some of those different stories are only a pew away.  Our differences are part of the grace through which God is working in this congregation for God’s sake and for the sake of the world.  Thanks be to God.

 

 

 

 

[1] Jeffery Collins. The Denver Post on Saturday, June 20, 2015, page 1. http://www.pressreader.com/usa/the-denver-post/20150620/281487864988085/TextView

[2] Racism and Modernity: Festschrift for Wulf D. Hundt ed. by Iris Wigger, Sabine Ritter. Critical Philosophy of Race
Volume 1, Issue 1, 2013.  Pp.136-140.  http://muse.jhu.edu/login?auth=0&type=summary&url=/journals/critical_philosophy_of_race/v001/1.1.lettow.html

[3] Bono’s biography may be read online here: http://www.atu2.com/band/bono/

[4] Bono. Excerpt online from interview with Michka Assays. (Bono: In Conversation with Michka Assayas, 2005). http://www.patheos.com/blogs/robertricciardelli/ricciardelli/bono-interview-grace-over-karma-by-michka-assayas/

[5] Jonathan Wiseman. The New York Times: Killings Add Painful Page to Storied History of Charleston Church. June 18, 2015.  http://www.nytimes.com/2015/06/19/us/charleston-killings-evoke-history-of-violence-against-black-churches.html?_r=0