And there was morning and evening, the first day.
I’m drinking a latte as I write this on my MacBook sitting on my comfy leather couch in my always 78 degrees house that sits on a quiet street with neatly trimmed lawns (well except for that one house) and geraniums in pots and pretty people who walk their kids to school and hang out by the pool and drink drinks in copper mugs.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve been waking up to the privilege and power that comes with being a white middle-class woman with a platform. A tiny platform, mind you – but even access to the Internet and decision makers in my church and city award advantage to me. I have leverage over my circumstances that have nothing to do with my effort, education, or eloquence, just the color of my skin.
I’m having a moment ya’ll. My personal and theological constructs are being shaken. What I thought to be true in terms of privilege and race, what I thought should be put on a pedestal, celebrated, and given grace is being shrouded. I’m looking at the Bible and Church and my faith community in a new light and asking tough questions.
Do I believe what I believe because it’s true or because it is the narrative I grew up with? Is my theology colonial? Am I clutching to the paradigms of my tribe while passing the wounded stranger on the roadside?
I don’t want to stay safe or stay the same. Well, that’s not true, I do want to safe, but I know I must not. I must listen and learn from The Other, I must see the world through fresh eyes and an open mind and heart, not because it’s trendy, but because I believe it is the way of the disciple.
–> Jesus rejected his privilege in order to set the captives free. He came to demolish strongholds – not just the ones that oppress us, but the ones in us that oppress others. <–
So what does this look like? I don’t know. I welcome your ideas. I’ve started by following a lot of new people on Twitter, subscribing to new podcasts, and reading books by people that do not look like me, talk like me, or live like me. I’m going to listen and learn and let their ideas shape me, just as I’ve let white middle-class suburbia in America shape me for the past 52 years.
Our country is on the razor’s edge, but I am hopeful! I believe in US! I believe in the image of God that is imprinted on each and every human being and that although things are not as they ought to be, that they can be, and someday will be. Amen.