On my heart, and in my head.

I just got off a zoom tonight with some good people.  After it ended I scanned Facebook and read of yet another shooting of a black man in Minneapolis.  Ten miles from where George Floyd's murderer is on trial Daunte Wright was shot "accidentally" when the officer went for a taser, only to fire a pistol.  I started to share the news piece on my FB page expressing my weariness with this constant cycle of injustice and murder, wanting to stand in solidarity with the people of color in my community.  

Then I remembered that last week the white evangelical world got ahold of a prophetic prayer of lament written by Dr. Chanequa Walker-Barnes that was published in Sarah Bessey's latest (and amazing) book, "A Rhythm of Prayer."  You should totally buy the book, but here is the link to Dr. Chanequa's prayer and commentary on how it came to be: https://drchanequa.com/blog.  The prayer, entitled, "The Prayer of a Weary Black Woman," details how she wants to hate the white people that perpetuate the hatred, weary from being filled with a hope that one day "we" will get it, but consistently being disappointed by our lip-service followed by inaction.  She is crying out to the God that she knows is beyond the broken systems, the One who claims her as Beautiful Child.  Unfortunately, the loudest white evangelical Christians, the very ones who take verses out of the Bible literally and completely out of context, have done the same thing to this prayer.  The first line really stirred them up, and must have left them unable to read the rest and embrace the reality of which she writes.  It is vulnerably raw and beautiful.  And this reaction only shines a spotlight on the double-minded thinking that keeps us complacent, stuck in this systemic oppression allowing our fear to prevent us from speaking up and taking action. It is scary when the people you think are "yours" suddenly reflect something with which you can no longer agree, or perpetuate harmful rules by which you can no longer abide.  

So how could I dare share another post with a hollow nod to "thoughts and prayers" for my minority siblings, naming the injustice layered into so many aspects of my everyday life when I am certain that I perpetuate these systems on a daily basis? 

What is a black woman to do when we don't even allow her the the opportunity to voice her lament? What is a black man to do when the entire nation continues to argue whether a police officer should be allowed to murder a black man (ANY black man) by kneeling on his neck while his life drains from his body?   We acknowledge the pain racism causes but fail to put to death the racist systems that continue to make it difficult for minorities to vote, have access to decent healthcare, feel protected by law enforcement....and the list goes on.  We keep making THEM do the work.  And we wonder why anger shows up as riots in the streets when we close our ears to the cries of the oppressed. 

I almost did it again this evening.  I keep relying on BIPOC folx to teach me, show me, enable me to do better...but it's NOT THEIR JOB.  If I can think of anyone whose job it might be to get at the root of all of this and begin to change it, it is the job of white Christians.  So many of whom say they believe in Jesus the Christ but take not the first steps in repenting, confessing, or transforming or own biases. Afraid to recognize the privilege that seeps in simply by being born with white skin, claiming that "we were here first," while we detain immigrant children in cages, while every single Native American can tell us the story of our own immigration and their peoples' demise.

White Jesus-followers, we can do better, we must do better.  This is the very call of Christ - abundant life for ALL of God's children, freedom from oppression, truly loving persons because they bear the very imprint of God.  How in 2021 can continue to justify denying basic rights to persons because of the color of their skin? 

But honestly, I understand much of this with new vision these days, and I write mostly to remind myself that everyday I live as a follower of the One who turned the oppressive empire of His day on its head.  And I want to stay meek and humble, I want to continue to learn....because as I know better I can be a more prophetic voice, a better citizen, a kinder friend, generous and just. 

...more like Christ, I suppose.  

My prayer this evening is simple: 

Compassionate God, you are slow to anger, compassionate, abounding in steadfast love.  Teach me.  Offer me wisdom that my privilege might lead to change, my confusion and despair lead to powerful understanding, that I would move closer to those that I do not yet understand, trusting that as I do I will be transformed by their humanity, by their power and by the beauty they behold. Amen.