It’s a crying shame that Juneteenth sparks such consternation among some. Our vitriolic politics hones in on a holiday and misses the forest for the trees. What is lacking is a historically embodied reflection on the importance of such a day. As a white man who is politically conservative (though deeply troubled by Republicans), I support Juneteenth being a federal holiday. I support it because it speaks to the lives of enslaved people that served my family.
Juneteenth, or Emancipation Day or Freedom Day, is a significant holiday celebrated in the United States on June 19th. It commemorates the day in 1865 when Union soldiers arrived in Galveston, Texas, with news that the Civil War had ended and that all enslaved individuals were now free. Juneteenth serves as a day of reflection, education, and celebration of African American history and culture. It is a time to honor the resilience, strength, and achievements while also recognizing the ongoing fight for equality and justice.
It was an important date for African Americans long before it was a federally sanctioned holiday. But it isn’t just a holiday for black Americans. It is also a day that speaks to rectifying a terrible wrong. It was a day in which the last of those in slavery, all the way in Texas, realized that the leader of the free world had emancipated them. It was a day when those last enslaved people heard the call of freedom. That is a tremendous thing to celebrate, regardless of your politics!
I celebrate this day because the recipients of this good news are interwoven into my family story. The Barnharts enslaved people, as many Southerners did. An 1857 will book for my 5x-great grandfather lists his slaves and their (perceived) value:
1 Negro man, Nathan………………………………………………………$550.00
1 Negro woman, Eveline
1 Negro child, Eveline’s………………………………………………….. 933.33
I Negro girl, Ann……………………………………………………………… 600.00
I Negro girl, Cinda………………………………………………………….. 350.00
________
Total $2,433.33
The story goes that “Nathan remained a loyal servant until after the Civil War, and then, according to tradition, he was shot and killed because of stealing.” An act of stealing led to his execution like an animal that had become a nuisance. It’s hauntingly tragic and unnecessary.
But seeing names with dollar amounts following them is also jolting. This value was based on a person's usefulness. A person could determine another’s entire worth by how useful they were to them. This objectification was perfectly legal. Juneteenth changed that (along with the 13th, 14th, and 15th Amendments). We should celebrate this as a country. We should acknowledge the work done and be inspired to build off the courage of our ancestors. I’m reminded of Jon Meacham’s words at a 150th anniversary celebration of the transcontinental railroad (find the transcript of this remarkable speech here):
Which is why this is a good moment, and a good place, to reflect on who we’ve been, who we are, and where we might go in the next 150 years. To know what’s come before is to be armed against despair. Think about it: if the men and women of the past—with all their flaws and limitations and ambitions and appetites—could press on through ignorance and superstition, racism and sexism, selfishness and greed, to form a more perfect union, then perhaps we, too, can right wrongs and leave things better than we found them.
That little phrase “to form a more perfect union,” called out of the preamble to our Constitution, makes all the difference. It is not a static phrase. It is dynamic and evolutionary. It is always a work in progress. We must celebrate the work done but never rest on our laurels. We must continue to perfect this nation, but we must never forget the tremendous sacrifices (often made by those who had no choice). It takes work, it takes cooperation, it takes acknowledgment of wrong, and it takes a shared vision to call us forward.
The rest of the Barnhart story through the end of the 19th and into the early 20th century contains multiple mentions of “negro help.” That little phrase says a lot. But at a base and benign level, it communicates an intertwining of relationships that makes the story of Juneteenth not that far off. My family’s life was made possible because of the service of black Americans. I am sad for them and also thankful for them. It’s an odd melancholy sort of gratitude.
I do not, and will not, villainize my ancestors, but the path of healing is to look at our stories and say, “That isn’t right.” We seem to rush to an argument over reparations long before we critically reflect on our own stories and invite the Holy Spirit to well up a lament.
So, no, I don’t celebrate Juneteenth because it’s politically correct to do so. Such trite sentiments don’t change hearts and minds. Names like those found in that 1857 will book tug at my heartstrings, names like Nathan, Eveline, Ann, and Cinda. What was it like for them to hear that slavery was outlawed? How did their lives change?
It is touching that my 4x-great aunt, Bettie, would write, “Eveline taught me to knit on broom straws, a little strip like a necktie. I remember Grandmother Polly Barnhart [my 5x-great grandmother]…lived in the old house, after her husband [my 5x-great grandfather, John George Barnhart, Jr.] died, with Eveline.” In moments of trial and adversity, friendship popped up. A forced friendship as it was, the records indicate that it was a real friendship. Eveline and Polly would remain together until Polly’s passing years later. Forced servitude gave way to companionship.
I’m reminded of the Apostle Paul’s play on words in his letter to Philemon. This small but mighty letter is about a runaway slave named Onesimus, which means useful. In verse 11, Paul writes, “Formerly he [Onesimus] was useless to you, but now he has become useful both to you and to me.” And calling on Philemon’s loyalty to the gospel, Paul asks that Philemon receive Onesimus back “no longer as a slave, but better than a slave, as a dear brother” (v. 16). Onesimus is not useful because he’s your slave, Philemon. He’s useful; he’s genuinely Onesimus because he is your friend in Christ.
A while back, my wife recommended a genealogy podcast, “Stories in our Roots” (if you know my wife, you’re not surprised). A particularly poignant episode is a conversation with Annie Hartnett, an essayist who dove into her family’s participation in chattel slavery. She now seeks to detail the family histories of those enslaved by her ancestors so she can “write about the stories of those people whose lives were stolen from them and whose stories have been buried and lost." You can find the episode here:
Like Onesimus, our national narrative has often humanized and denumanized different groups based on their perceived usefulness to the majority. Rather than the vitriol that is our American politics, what if Christians modeled a different way of navigating our differences, acknowledging our pain, and building a better future together.
Tradition has it, though it is speculative at best, that Onesimus went on to become bishop of Ephesus. Putting historical veracity aside, the story is a compelling one to remember. It is the power of “what if.” What if this small letter changed the course of Onesimus’ life? What if a former slave encountered Christ through the kindness of a letter-writing friend and a redeemed master? What if that letter was a Juneteenth moment for Onesimus? This change of status occurred because three individuals, Paul, Philemon, and Onesimus, allowed their theology to reshape their imagination into a new political reality.
I pray that Juneteenth will shape the public liturgy of our nation to look into the darkness of our past, remind ourselves of the best of us, and invite us to live into a shared vision and hope that builds on it all. I pray that friendships like Polly and Eveline are not forced, but natural and life-giving. I pray that the Onesimus’ of our family histories become useful because of their humanity, and not because of our dehumanization of them.
I boldly pray that making this a federally sanctioned holiday is not an end in and of itself. Rather, may it change our hearts, minds, and consciences so that, like Paul, we can “appeal to [one another] on the basis of love” (vv. 8-9a).