My 8-year-old just broke her arm on the last day of school. The grieving of good plans changed will come. In the meantime, somehow, my daughter has been the best version of herself since the fall. She has been kind, patient, helpful and an overall pleasure to be around. In my astonished curiosity, I made this observation and asked her if she had noticed too. She had, and said, “I am having a hard time right now, and it makes me want others to not have a hard time.” Exposing our privilege, this is the hardest personal trial she has faced. It left me wondering, what it is about being in struggle that clicked for her a recognition of other peoples’ struggles?
For as long as I can remember, my dad has said that the Christian church has always been at its best when it has not been in power, in fact, when it has been under the heat of persecution. It is no secret that even the most well-meaning Western Christian efforts to help and provide hospitality for “the least of these” have been tainted if not lead by patterns of colonialism and white-supremacy. And if you are the host of the table, your power permeates into who you invite, what the house rules are and the guests look to you to meet your customs lest the welcome sour. Even the act of dispensing power itself has a way of retaining the upper hand. We may claim to love Jesus, but maybe we also enjoy being near the power associated with the Divine.
Meanwhile, I came across a quote stated by a fictional character in a novel having very little to do with these discussions, but it has stayed with me: “When you have everything, someone else getting a little something feels like they are stealing from you.” (from Daisy Jones and the Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid)
We’ve all seen this lived out. Only about a week ago, our community made national news when the local police force arrested 31 White males that were poised to inflict violence and chaos at the local Pride parade. As a result, the police force has been threatened from around the globe. These 31 men are among those feeling their era of White dominance threatened. Does it feel to them like the world is stealing from them? Power is a drug that is hard to clean from our systems. Once we have it, it seems we depend upon it to live. What would it mean for those of us accustomed to power and privilege to examine Jesus posture to his own divine power? As Paul writes to (the persecuted) church in Philippi, unity with Jesus should unite us towards an inside-out power dynamic that strips us of a privileged identity allowing us to be other-oriented. (see Philippians 2:1-8)
I am curious what downward mobility looks like for those of us in areas of greater power, especially when one can still maintain control of the direction of the fall and make a soft landing. What, of the nature of my 8-year-old exists in us, that until a revelation of suffering can open us up to the suffering of others we cling to power as if our life depended upon it. Can we actually follow Jesus closely enough to come to a table with power dynamics turned inside out? And if my dad is right, how does the Western church collectively purge itself of centuries of power alliances in order that we may be more like the incarnate Jesus we say we follow?
1 comment
Only just touched base with you before we said “Goodbye”….this so resonates with my thoughts today…..I found myself panicking about finding my car!!! Then it occurred to me that there are women my age with no homes, NOTHING in many oppressed parts of the world….incarnational ministry calls but how can I engage with it, given my basic expectations???