Author: Pat Liberty

Ennui: a feeling of listlessness and dissatisfaction arising from a lack of occupation or enrichment.

After the better part of four months being cooped up in whatever place we call home, it’s understandable that we are a little bored. We also may be more than a little frustrated and tired of this seemingly endless pandemic.  Unfortunately, it seems the virus is not tired of the human race, so the end is not yet in sight.

Increased isolation means relationships with family and friends are disordered. There is decreased physical contact as we are socially distanced and unable to hug. Work routines, if they exist, are changed. Participation in communities that give life meaning is drastically changed or non-existent. In short, many of the ways in which we find meaning are disrupted.

We have been in crisis mode for months, and the crisis is not yet over. Tara Haelle calls it exhaustion of our surge capacity. She writes, “Surge capacity is a collection of adaptive systems-mental and physical- that humans draw on for short-term survival in acutely stressful situations, such as natural disasters.” While recovery from such crises is often a long term proposition, the actual survival skills piece is relatively short term. When a crisis plods on and morphs along the way, our capacity to cope is diminished. Feeling more brittle, having less energy, losing focus more easily and difficulty getting motivated are all indicators that our surge capacity is diminishing. We can be in crisis mode for only so long.

Given our national obsession with productivity and accomplishing something on a daily basis, having routines disrupted is far more than what it seems on the surface. It’s a recipe for deep ennui. Questioning our purpose, wondering what our value is and feeling not quite depressed and not quite anxious is the classic definition of ennui. It’s more than boredom. There’s a deep psychological and spiritual component to it.

Being in the midst of global crisis for months is a bit like being cast adrift in a foreign sea with an inadequate boat and no life jackets. We are so used to being in control, or at least deluding ourselves into thinking we are, that when something totally beyond the reaches of our problem solving, productivity and efficiency lingers for months, it is unsettling to say the least.

There is no shortage of suggestions for how to cope. Get outside every day. Make a list. Set small, achievable goals. Cut yourself some slack. It’s all good advice, but it’s a bit like putting a band aid on a compound fracture.

There is an essential truth we need to reclaim. We are more than our accomplishments (just like we are more than our failures). We are more than what we produce. We are worth more than our problem solving and efficiency. Our essential value as human beings is not something we can create on our own, it rests beyond us. A basic premise of the Judeo-Christian tradition is that we are created in the image of the divine. We live in God and God lives in us. We are partners with God in ushering in God’s realm. Our purpose and meaning as human beings rests in the holy partnership we share with the divine.

This foundation makes an ever expanding world view possible. It removes us from the rat race of doing and accomplishing and plants us in the realm of being. It also has the potential to transform every act of kindness, every deed of mercy, every human interaction (no matter how small) into a radical act of love that has the potential to change the world. It is a perspective that can undergird these changing times with deeper meaning that rests on an entirely different foundation than what the world values.

Sure, it may help to go for a walk, especially if you take in the beauty that is around you. It may be a spectacular sunset. It may be a weed pushing up through a crack in the sidewalk. Both are reminders that we are part of something that is holy and amazing. We get to participate in this grand revolution of love and kindness where our value is determined by what is beyond us, yet as close as our breath.

Sometimes things have been the way they are for so long we think that is the way it is supposed to be. In the last fifty years these places have suffered from war, unrest and military violence. The last century was the most war torn and violent in all recorded human history.  The Society of International Law in London states that during the last four thousand years only 268 have been free of war.

Sometimes things have been the way they are for so long we think that is the way it is supposed to be.

War, unrest, and violence: tens of millions of lives sacrificed on the altar of human greed, political and religious strife and overall failure of human kind to find a better way.

But our human experience to the contrary notwithstanding, it is not the way it is supposed to be.  War may be the norm, but it is not God’s design.  Scripture is filled with rich images of peace, which is more than the absence of war. It is about deep well-being, or shalom. Though the promise of peace seems remote most of the time it still reaches to us in a place of deep yearning, like water washing over parched earth.

One of my favorite images of peace from the Bible is from Isaiah 2. It is a reference to God’s people streaming uphill…and there will be peace. It’s a reminder that peace is an uphill journey. It comes when we are more committed to the ways of peace than the ways of just about everything else. That’s what makes it uphill.

As in Isaiah’s time, our mountains of nationalism and economic security are higher than the mountain of faith. It’s called idolatry. If you ever wondered why prophets were not usually welcome in their home towns, this gives you a clue.

Another thing about the way of peace is that it often starts with a solo voice. The way of peace often begins with one person who speaks truth to power, one person who journeys uphill again and again.

We are so often caught in powerlessness, thinking that our little actions will not make a difference, and thinking or perhaps fearing either irrelevance or failure, what is ours to do we do not do.  Isaiah’s witness is to the power of one and that becomes more than one. As the old folk song goes, “two and two and fifty make a million.”

Margaret Mead said it best, “Never doubt that a small, committed group of people can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”

The uphill journey does not ask if one person can really make a difference, it stands as a witness that leaving things undone is a resignation to despair. By speaking truth to power, we refuse to collude with evil and insanity. Breaking silence is one of the most powerful things people do. It challenges the assumption of consensus.

Peace is an uphill journey that we choose to make, or not make, every day.  A deep commitment to peace means we live out individually what is needed collectively.  We stream uphill, even if we are the only ones.

It’s not about whether or not we change the world, it’s about whether or not we are transformed, it’s up to God what happens after that.  Thich Nat Hahn said it best:  There is not a way to peace, peace is the way.

It begins with what we do or fail to do every day. Peace in the world depends on peace in the country, which depends on peace in the community, which depends on peace in our homes, which depends on peace in our hearts.  That is the uphill journey.  We make it again and again.

The myth of Sisyphus is not simply a statement that life is absurd, but rather that meaning is to be found in the journey up the hill each time, not in the hope that this time we shed the rock forever.

Each time we venture uphill we shed a bit more of the violence that is as much a part of our world as air.  Each journey up the hill yields instruction and we learn a little more of the things that make for peace in our hearts, homes, communities and world.

When all is said and done, what will people say was your purpose in life? Usually the comments are about being a good person, and loving your family. But will they say of us that we loved the poor, spoke up for justice and peace, took risks for the sake of the Gospel?

We need not look far to find the causes for conflict.  We are in the midst of a global pandemic, hundreds of thousands of people are dying, the jobless and poverty rates are soaring. Suicide rates are on the rise. Fewer and fewer Americans can afford health insurance. More and more people are food insecure and it doesn’t show signs of changing for the better any time soon.

And still, the rich are getting richer. CEO’s earn at least 400 times the pay of the average worker. What is true here is played out in countless countries around the world, proving that there is not enough for everyone’s greed but there is enough for everyone’s need.

Just because things have been the way they are for so long doesn’t mean it’s the way they are supposed to be.  Peace is the promise, peace is the journey, peace is the goal, and peace is the work.

If this year were a beverage, it would be a colonoscopy prep. The saying isn’t original to me, but it sums up this year pretty well.  This year was already behind the eight ball because the occupant is slowly destroying our country while pandering to his cronies. Adding a global pandemic and the cascade of related crises creates burdens that everyone feels to some extent. I could create a list that would fill this entire page.

Instead, I encourage you to make your own list. Take a moment and consider how your life is impacted by everything related to the pandemic. List what is uncertain, what worries you, your concern for your family, financial worries and don’t forget the global concerns that no doubt will continue to impact us all. Take some time and write a list. Review your list. Then cut yourself some slack. Have some compassion for yourself. These are tough times. You are doing the best you can. Let that sink in for a moment. You are doing the best you can.

Hopelessness often comes from feeling out of control, that there is nothing we can do to change the situation. Another component of hopelessness is the kind of wishful thinking that just sets us up for disappointment.  Magical thinking is not hope. Last time I checked there were no fairy godmothers hanging around waiting to grant our heart’s desire. Equally unhelpful in the search for hope is the “always look on the bright side,” “things could be worse,” “just buck up and keep a positive outlook” twaddle that happy-clappy religious people peddle when they have never really known what it is like to feel hopeless.

True hope is of much stronger stuff than wishful thinking and trite phrases. In the familiar words of 1 Corinthians 13, hope is inextricably bound to faith and love. Faith, at its simplest is belief in Something bigger than ourselves. Love, at its simplest, is recognizing that the Divine is at work in all of creation and responding with the best we have to offer. Hope is a belief in the possibility that things can be different. When faith, hope and love combine, they dive deeply into the heart of the Divine and into the essence of what it means to be human. Combine faith, hope and love and there’s something to hold on to.

It’s important to say that hope is not tied to a specific outcome; it doesn’t depend on certainty. Trying to engineer the outcome falls back into the wishful thinking category. Rather, it is the belief there is potential for something different to happen. In like fashion, it is also the belief that the present difficulties have not eclipsed good things happening at this moment in time.

We see how the pandemic has brought out the worst in people, but it has also brought out the best in people. Hope can be found by looking for the little and big things that people do to make life better. I am continually in awe of health care workers who keep showing up and doing what needs to be done because this is their vocation, not just their job. It is their purpose in this life. I find great hopefulness in this. I find hope in the kind actions of strangers whose eyes smile behind the masks, who take a moment to thank essential workers and show politeness when others are being jerks.

Sure, there are many things that are beyond our control, but not everything is beyond our control. Hope is something in which we must actively participate. It means that we can be the change we want to see. The little changes we make in ourselves can be a source of energy that moves us forward. Actively participating in something that makes a positive change begins to shift our perspective. When we are looking for kindness, we tend to find it. Actively participating in life is a trustworthy toe hold in hope.

Comfort and hope also can be found in some things that are beyond our control. I find great comfort in the fact that the sun rises every day. There is nothing I have to do but pay attention. There is a steadiness to the rhythm of days that is grounding and centering.

Hope always hovers above the moment and calls beyond itself while holding fast to faith and love. We find hope in baby steps not giant leaps, in the places we look expecting to find something good. We find hope when we embody the change we want to see in the world.

This week I posted to my social media page and thanked people for sending good wishes on my birthday. This, in turn, sparked a whole new wave of good wishes– high school friends from whom I have not heard in years, friends present and those whom years and changing circumstance have distanced. I received phone calls and flowers and more. It was like being queen for a day!

It was not a particularly momentous birthday like a decade marker. I can still say I am in my early sixties. I guess that can be considered momentous. There is, however, more to it than that. Despite the creaky joints, gray hair and pounds that cluster around my waist as the years go on, a birthday matters. It is a reminder that I am growing older and that is a privilege denied to many. It is a reminder that I survived another year, and this year is a doozy of one to survive. It is a place holder in the journey of days, all of which combine to make a life. And as such, each passing year is to be celebrated.

I was also reminded that the day after my birthday was the fifth anniversary of the death of my mother following a courageous and lengthy battle with Multiple Sclerosis. I remember my sister having a heart to heart with my mother and telling her she could NOT die on my birthday. My mom managed to hang on until the next morning. Truth be told, I would have been fine with it. It speaks to me of some mysterious circle of life that would have changed me in a unique way, just as all birthdays do. In the way that grief goes, five years were just yesterday and at the same time, it has been forever. Grief has a strange sense of time. Again I remembered how many people came to pay their respects, sent flowers and cards. I was so grateful for those who cared for us in our sorrow and grief. I remember being pleasantly surprised by those I never imagined would come and disappointed by those I thought might show up and didn’t. Grief is like that too.

Mostly, this odd confluence of days reminds me that it is often the little things that bring the greatest comfort and joy. In these days of great challenge and utter weirdness, it is the little things that put the book mark in our days. A friend suggested it may be because people are spending more time at home now. Indeed, that may be part of it. When (and if) life gets back to normal, it’s a reminder of what we might hold on to, those little things that make such a difference in our life and the lives others. Getting back to normal often means being over committed, over busy and often times over-stressed. In the midst of such moments it is easy to think that our puny little gestures may not matter all that much.

News flash: they do matter.

They remind us that others matter to us and we matter to others, sometimes in ways we had never imagined or ways we have forgotten. The seemingly small gestures are gifts to the day and gifts to be treasured.

Being remembered on a birthday is simple enough but it means someone is thinking of us. In times of sorrow, receiving a card or a phone call is a reminder that we are held in the hearts of others when our own hearts are breaking.

Too often we wait to tell someone they matter and then time runs out. Too often our busyness eclipses the better angels of our nature that know that it’s the little things that really do matter. Maybe this is one lesson of the pandemic, albeit one that has come at a terrible cost. It’s the little things that matter.

Don’t wait to tell someone they matter. Don’t put off writing that note or card to let someone know you are thinking of them. Don’t neglect the opportunity to say thank you to an essential worker and tell them you appreciate them. As they no doubt get rations of garbage from far too many people, you can make someone’s day by just saying, “thank you.”

Don’t put off the little things that ultimately make up a life. They really are the big things.

 

This week I posted to my social media page and thanked people for sending good wishes on my birthday. This, in turn, sparked a whole new wave of good wishes– high school friends from whom I have not heard in years, friends present and those whom years and changing circumstance have distanced. I received phone calls and flowers and more. It was like being queen for a day!

It was not a particularly momentous birthday like a decade marker. I can still say I am in my early sixties. I guess that can be considered momentous. There is, however, more to it than that. Despite the creaky joints, gray hair and pounds that cluster around my waist as the years go on, a birthday matters. It is a reminder that I am growing older and that is a privilege denied to many. It is a reminder that I survived another year, and this year is a doozy of one to survive. It is a place holder in the journey of days, all of which combine to make a life. And as such, each passing year is to be celebrated.

I was also reminded that the day after my birthday was the fifth anniversary of the death of my mother following a courageous and lengthy battle with Multiple Sclerosis. I remember my sister having a heart to heart with my mother and telling her she could NOT die on my birthday. My mom managed to hang on until the next morning. Truth be told, I would have been fine with it. It speaks to me of some mysterious circle of life that would have changed me in a unique way, just as all birthdays do. In the way that grief goes, five years were just yesterday and at the same time, it has been forever. Grief has a strange sense of time. Again I remembered how many people came to pay their respects, sent flowers and cards. I was so grateful for those who cared for us in our sorrow and grief. I remember being pleasantly surprised by those I never imagined would come and disappointed by those I thought might show up and didn’t. Grief is like that too.

Mostly, this odd confluence of days reminds me that it is often the little things that bring the greatest comfort and joy. In these days of great challenge and utter weirdness, it is the little things that put the book mark in our days. A friend suggested it may be because people are spending more time at home now. Indeed, that may be part of it. When (and if) life gets back to normal, it’s a reminder of what we might hold on to, those little things that make such a difference in our life and the lives others. Getting back to normal often means being over committed, over busy and often times over-stressed. In the midst of such moments it is easy to think that our puny little gestures may not matter all that much.

News flash: they do matter.

They remind us that others matter to us and we matter to others, sometimes in ways we had never imagined or ways we have forgotten. The seemingly small gestures are gifts to the day and gifts to be treasured.

Being remembered on a birthday is simple enough but it means someone is thinking of us. In times of sorrow, receiving a card or a phone call is a reminder that we are held in the hearts of others when our own hearts are breaking.

Too often we wait to tell someone they matter and then time runs out. Too often our busyness eclipses the better angels of our nature that know that it’s the little things that really do matter. Maybe this is one lesson of the pandemic, albeit one that has come at a terrible cost. It’s the little things that matter.

Don’t wait to tell someone they matter. Don’t put off writing that note or card to let someone know you are thinking of them. Don’t neglect the opportunity to say thank you to an essential worker and tell them you appreciate them. As they no doubt get rations of garbage from far too many people, you can make someone’s day by just saying, “thank you.”

Don’t put off the little things that ultimately make up a life. They really are the big things.

 

When Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez spoke up about the verbal abuse leveled at her by Representative Yoho (I think yo-yo might be more appropriate), she challenged another strand in the DNA of our country: sexism and patriarchy.

If you breathe while female, you know what it is to be paid less than a man for the same work and/or judged for your physical appearance. You know what it is like to deal with inappropriate touching and comments. You know what it is like to be called honey and sweetie and darling. If you take exception to any of the above you are called a feminazi, man hater, bitch etc.  (My late mother had the best come back to being called a bitch, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” It has served me well). If you take exception to any of the above you are told you are being overly sensitive or that no harm was meant. Somehow the inappropriate behavior of another is turned to be your fault. If you breathe while female, you can add your own examples of how sexism and patriarchy have affected you.

What these examples have in common is that they minimize women and challenge the power and authority women have in any given situation. Sexism and patriarchy are the umbrella terms. Insult and minimization are a consequence.  One’s intent has nothing to do it. So we must persist in calling men out (and sometimes women) and risk being called ______; fill in the blank.

We have learned that “all men are created equal” does not apply to people of color in our racist society. It also does not apply to women in our sexist society. In fact, it does not apply to any marginalized people in our culture.

There is a long theological history that matches social history through the years. Sexism and patriarchy have been encouraged by Christianity. The Christian Lectionary, a three year cycle of scripture used for worship, excludes many of the texts that use feminine images for God.  For example, God is described as a mother eagle in Deuteronomy 32: 11-12. In Hosea 13:8 God is again described as a mother eagle protecting her young. In Isaiah 66:13 God is a mother comforting her child. The pronouns used for Spirit are feminine in both Greek and Hebrew.

The predominance of male leadership in worship has taught us to overlook the women who clearly kept company with Jesus and had leadership positions in the early church. In Luke’s gospel women who kept company with Jesus include Mary Magdalene. (There is no historic evidence to support the notion that she was a prostitute. This is an example of what history has done to women in positions of leadership in the life of discipleship.) Joanna and Susanna are also mentioned as evangelists with Jesus. In addition, Jesus routinely challenged the social norms of his day by including women, many whose names are lost to the history that didn’t value women. Women were also the first witnesses to the resurrection, though the men to whom they brought the news did not believe them.

Women were also leaders in the early church. Women were ordained to positions of leadership. A number of women served as leaders of the house churches that sprang up in the cities of the Roman Empire. The list includes Priscilla, Chloe and Lydia. Paul gave instructions to the women deacons in his letter to Timothy.  In the second century, Clement of Alexandria wrote that the apostles were accompanied on their missionary journeys by women who were not marriage partners, but colleagues. By the fourth century, however, women were largely excluded from the church structure. A male hierarchy emerged during the patristic period that changed the course of Christianity and shaped social norms that institutionalize sexism, imbuing it with a convoluted “divine authority.” It followed through the centuries and prohibited the ordination of women. It was l980 before the Episcopal Church ordained women. My own tradition, the United Church of Christ, ordained Antoinette Brown in 1853. It was a momentous event in the life of the Christian church.

Social and religious patriarchy has traveled through history hand in hand, to the detriment of women. Patriarchy is an entire system that is recreated by male dominated structures and processes. It creates an environment that makes the bad behavior of men acceptable and blames women for holding them to a higher standard. The quasi-religious blessing on male- centered culture makes it especially difficult to challenge.

While women have made much progress toward equality in the last decades, both in society and in the church, it is clear there is more work to be done. No man should every get away with calling a woman a “f*cking bitch” and no woman should be chastised for holding that man accountable. The patriarchy lives and the voice of every woman is needed to continue to challenge and dismantle it.

This blog is a safe space. Comments that are on point and relevant are welcome; disrespectful, hateful and vulgar comments will be removed by the moderator.

Disclaimer as required by Facebook: This website is the sole property of the Rev. Patricia L. Liberty. She is the administrator and is solely responsible for its content. This website receives no remuneration from any individual or entity, foreign or domestic. This website charges no fee for any of its materials, and accepts no donations or advertisements.

Please bear with me this week as I do a little Bible study. Please don’t stop reading; I think this is really important.

In the last few weeks I have been seeing many Biblical references to the Parable of the Lost Sheep (found in Matthew 18:12-14 and Luke 15:3-7) and the Black Lives Matter (BLM). The upshot in both gospels is that a shepherd has 100 sheep, one of them gets lost and the shepherd leaves the 99 to go find the one. First, this is not what the parable is about. The parable is about how people are restored to right relationship with God. Second, it reinforces some unconscious and subconscious prejudices we bring to the text.

In Matthew’s version, the teaching attributed to Jesus begins with words about children. In biblical times, children were symbols of the most vulnerable ones in society. There are a lot of people, however, who do not know that, and a subtlety of the text is lost.

In Luke’s version, the teaching attributed to Jesus skips the vulnerable children and jumps right into the story. It ends with, “there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over the 99 persons who need no repentance.”

For some, the BLM is the one sheep that is the response to the saying, “All Lives Matter.” The argument is that all people don’t matter until black lives matter the same as white lives. For example, the National Cathedral website says, “This week, the interpretation of the parable has shown that black people represent the sheep that Jesus urges us to go find. Here the ninety-nine sheep left behind represent ‘all lives matter.’ But Jesus says yes, but right now black lives matter. They are the one sheep and I am going to go bring them back.”

There are, however, some more troubling undercurrents. There is a subtle assumption that black people are lost. They are not. They do not need anyone to come and rescue them. In both versions the shepherd is going to be the knight in shining armor. Of course, you pictured a blond, blue haired white guy for the shepherd. Truth is, there were no white people in the bible. In Luke’s version, the addition of a line about who is righteous and who is a sinner reinforces the notion that black people are the sinners.

Using this text as a biblical framework for Black Lives Matters is flawed. The story line itself is not helpful. Further, there is a paternalism in the text that may be appropriate for shepherds and sheep, but not for the relationship between blacks and whites. Unconscious white paternalism is reinforced when this text is used.

There is another biblical story that is much better suited to the situation at hand. It is the parable of the widow and the unjust judge found in Luke 18:1-8. You can read it HERE. The upshot of the story is that the judge had no regard for anyone and ignored the widow. (In biblical times widows, along with children, were symbols of the most vulnerable members of society. Women were prohibited from working, and had no way to support themselves when their husbands died. They were the poorest of the poor.) The widow kept banging on the door and asking for what was rightfully hers. Eventually, because of the widow’s persistent asking, the judge finally grants her request.

Black people have been asking for 300 years. We are the unjust judge who has no regard and ignores the pleas of those who are in need of justice.  The Black Lives Matter movement is yet another attempt for people of color to get what is rightfully theirs: equal wages, housing and opportunity. It is way past time to give it to them.

Black Lives Matter joins other Black Social Movements including:

• Founding of the NAACP (1909-2012) W.E. Du Bois and Ida B. Wells founded it to try and use the courts to overturn Jim Crow Laws.
• The Harlem Renaissance (1917-1930) Langston Hughes founded this organization in Harlem and it spread into Europe. The goal was to challenge racism through literature, art and music.
• Brown vs. Board of Education (1945) Overturned “separate but equal.”
• Congress on Racial Equality (1942-1968) Led by James Farmer, the goal was desegregating Chicago schools. It later expanded to include other black social movements.
• The founding of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (1957-2012) Founded by Martin Luther King, Jr, the SCLC encouraged non-violent direct action with a religious emphasis.
• The March on Washington (August 28, 1962) Martin Luther King delivered his “I Have a Dream” speech.
• Freedom Schools (1964) Ella Baker taught non-violent direct action.
• Mississippi Freedom Summer (1964)
• Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party (April 1964) Challenged the white-only Democratic Party.
• The Civil Rights Act (July 2, 1964) Outlawed major forms of discrimination against racial, ethnic, national and religious minorities as well as women.
• The Selma to Montgomery March (1965)
• The Voting Rights Act (August 6, 1965)
• The events of the Black Power Movement (1966-1972)
• Black Feminism (1973-present)
• Political Activism
• International Activism
• Black Lives Matter (2013-Present)

The voices of marginalized black and brown people have been asking for what is rightfully theirs for years. It is time to listen and change the social and political constructs that keep racism in place.

This blog is a safe space. Comments that are on point and relevant are welcome; disrespectful, hateful and vulgar comments will be removed by the moderator.

Disclaimer as required by Facebook: This website is the sole property of the Rev. Patricia L. Liberty. She is the administrator and is solely responsible for its content. This website receives no remuneration from any individual or entity, foreign or domestic. This website charges no fee for any of its materials, and accepts no donations or advertisements.

Please. Just. Stop. Please just stop saying “all lives matter” in response to Black Lives Matter. No one disputes the fact that all lives matter. It’s a no brainer. The Black Lives Matter movement is about lifting up a marginalized people to a place of equality with all others. It is a movement that has come of age and it needs to flourish. Three hundred years of systematic racism and oppression of people of color have found the fullness of time for this movement. It needs to stand.

Responding with “all lives matter” is a defensive position that diminishes the power of the movement and the people who are part of it. It reflects a level of not hearing the facts.

Facts:

• Our country is built on the systematic marginalizing of people of color. It began with the genocide of Native Americans when the Colonial period began. It continued through the time of slavery and continues to this day.
• Unarmed black men are at greater risk of death at the hands of police than any other single demographic.
• Parents of children of color, particularly male children, are given “the talk.” It’s not the talk about sex. It’s the talk about how not be killed by the police.
• In these days of Covid-19, people of color have disproportionately higher rates of infection. The main reason for this is that low-wage service workers are the backbone of keeping essential services available. As the economy continues to open, we will see increased infections among low wage workers.
• We need Black Lives Matter today and for years to come.
• White privilege is real, whether we realize it, accept it, or like it.

Black Lives Matter. Let it stand. Listen. Allow the truth of many movements throughout history that have tried to put forth the simple truth that black lives matter as much as white lives. We have yet to learn the lesson.

We see it in the viral videos that spew horrendous racist language at people with black and brown skin who are just living their lives. We see it in the fracas over the confederate flag at NASCAR. Now that the flag has been banned on the race tracks, it is flying in the race track parking lots over the RVs of fans.

Be the beginning of dismantling white privilege by standing in solidarity with people of color. Be part of the solution. Use your power to stand with those who have none.

Challenge racism when you hear it. Say things like, “I’m uncomfortable with that statement.” “I am trying to become more aware of how my privilege benefits me every day.” “No, I’m not calling you a racist; I am trying to offer a word that helps us come to terms with our white privilege.” Sure, it will upset people. Sure, it will be uncomfortable. We will not, however, make any progress in the conversation on race until we confront our privilege.

Black Lives Matter is a movement whose time has come. More than 7 million people participated in events around the United States. More than 4700 demonstrations have taken place to date. Black Lives Matter protests have sprung up around the world, showing that racism is not a uniquely American thing.

“We wouldn’t have to have Black Lives Matter if we didn’t have 300 years of black lives don’t matter.”  (Jane Elliot)

Poverty does not respect skin color, gender, mental or physical ability or one’s level of education. As the pandemic unfolds, more people are seeking SNAP benefits and assistance from food pantries for the first time.

That’s why the Poor People’s Campaign has been revived. It originated with Martin Luther King, Jr as a continuation of the civil rights movement. He was working with the Southern Christian Leadership Council to organize the movement when he was assassinated. The goal was economic justice for all.

Fifty years later the movement is getting a new lease on life. On June 20, 2020, two and a half million poor and marginalized people gathered in a virtual protest to reinvigorate and reimagine the movement. More than 300,000 sent the Moral Justice Jubilee Policy Platform to their legislators. I encourage you to do the same. You can download it here.

According to Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove, “the goal of the Poor People’s Campaign is to shift the moral narrative in this country. And we know that shifting means shifting who holds the power.” The Poor People’s Campaign gathers those directly influenced by poverty to address the issues they know all too well and answer the issues that affect their lives. It is a grassroots movement that has the power to make substantive changes. A major platform of their work right now is working against voter suppression and encouraging people to exercise their right and responsibility to vote. It has the potential to change the political landscape in ways that make substantive change possible.

In response to the ongoing violence and murder of unarmed black men, the unrest is unearthing and merging with other systemic issues in our society. Systemic racial injustice is an umbrella under which limited access to health care, education, affordable housing and clean water are safely shielded.  As racism is protested more and more, these issues come to light.

It is estimated that 140 million people in the United States live in poverty or have significantly low income. This backdrop exists as millions of people of all skin colors are applying for unemployment. If we aren’t outraged, we are not paying attention.

The Poor People’s Campaign worked with the nation’s best economists to see how a living wage for all workers can be accomplished. The question of redistribution of wealth is a difficult one; those with privilege are reluctant to give it up. In the richest country in the world people are born into poverty, live their whole lives in poverty and die in poverty, not because there is a scarcity of resources, but because we have lacked the will to change this reality. That’s a whole other blog or two.

According to the Poor People’s Campaign, shifting funding from the border wall and canceling one military contract would fund expanded Medicaid in the 14 states that haven’t done so under the Affordable Care Act. Budgets are moral documents. They tell us where our priorities are and what is important to us. This is true in our own homes as well as in our nation.

Some of the other issues the Poor People’s Campaign raises as related to systemic injustice and racism include:

• Ongoing lack of potable water for Flint, Michigan
• Political corruption (really? Say it isn’t so…)
• Unlivable minimum wage
• Corporate drilling on Native American lands
• Deaths caused by lack of health insurance (and let’s not forget the administration is trying to overturn the Affordable Care Act in the midst of pandemic)

The Rev. Dr. William Barber, founder and president of Repairers of the Breach, speaks powerfully and prophetically to the need for a redistribution of power, goods and services in our society. He takes up the path of Jesus, who spoke more words about the plight of the poor, the corruption of the Roman Occupation and the collusion with religious leaders, than he did any other single subject.

The Poor People’s Moral Justice Jubilee Policy Platform speaks powerfully to the principles that form the foundation of their work:

• “Everybody in, nobody out. Everybody is deserving of our nation’s abundance.
• When you lift the bottom, everybody rises. Instead of “trickle down,” we start with the bottom up.
• Prioritize the leadership of the poor, low income and most impacted. Those who are on the frontlines of the crises must also be in the lead identifying their solutions.
• Debts that cannot be paid must be relieved. We demand freedom from servicing the debts we cannot pay.
• We need a moral revolution of values to repair the breach in our land. This platform abides by our deepest moral and Constitutional commitments to justice. Where harm has been done, it must be acknowledged and undone.”

While the platform builds on solid constitutional principles, it also builds on strong theological principles. In addition to Jesus advocating for the poor, this movement also puts forth the biblical commitment to Jubilee.  In the Old Testament, every fifty years, all debts were cancelled, lands seized in tax defaults were returned and everyone had a clean slate to start the next fifty years. It was not an invitation to reckless living, but rather an assurance that when life is hard beyond imagining there is a way to start over with a clean slate and hope for something better.

The poor of our land need Jubilee, a promise of something better that comes when we join hands and work for the redistribution of goods and services on a platform of compassion and justice.