Blog
The Emperor’s Clothes
“But the emperor has no clothes!” cries the child in the crowd. And so cry we all, when our public leaders embrace an obvious scam without a trace of remorse, without a blush of embarrassment. “No kings,” we shout against unilateral political power. “No occupation,” we shout against military action in our own cities and neighborhoods. “No theocrats,” we shout against the imposition of puritanical laws.
Pointing our finger at naked hubris on parade takes childlike audacity.
Contending with our own naked hubris, however, takes maturity.
Those of us who are white American Christians have a very particular and blatant pretense to contend with, a twisted scam that has been run in the name of Jesus for centuries:
The belief that Christianity + whiteness = righteousness.
= authority.
= importance.
The impact of this historic and ongoing con is monstrous. Yet despite clear knowledge of our supremacy problem, white American Christianity as a whole continues to parade its pretense through the streets: uncompromising in our occupation of stolen lands; undeterred from our conviction that white American Christian values are best for the world (even as we fight amongst ourselves over which set of values that is); unashamed to view ourselves as exceptions to our own history. There are not enough protest posters in the world to make fig leaves that will adequately cover the extent of such hubris.
White American Christianity still seeks no king but itself, no occupation but its own, no values unless we approve. We are impressively naked, wrapped in the scam we’ve inherited and perpetuated. When our nakedness is pointed out, the white tears we cry do not veil our self-importance.
“Happy are those whose sin is covered,” observes the psalmist. “But when we hide our iniquities from our own awareness and before God, then we waste away.” (See Psalm 32:1-4.) Collective repentance, in liturgy and in life, is essential in our state of torment—not as an effort to cover the nakedness of white American Christianity but as a spiritual practice to strip it more completely of its long-running con.
Collective repentance requires our white American Christian theology to mature in its understanding of salvation. If indeed Jesus came to save us all, then Jesus is the Good Samaritan and we are the battered faith dying in a ditch. We are the lazy servant with our faith buried in the dirt of racism and fear. We are the hungry, the sick, and the imprisoned who so greatly resent a self-image of need that we built and still embrace social systems that force others into hunger, illness, and imprisonment. If indeed Jesus came to save us all, then our white American Christian theology cannot position us as salvation-bearers and eager-beaver-Jesus-helpers.
We cannot be disciples of a one-by-one savior, whether that’s a “personal Lord and Savior” or a “one-man justice act” called Jesus. Collective repentance of our supremacy sin needs a collective savior, and we white American Christians are no more and no less than those who need salvation.
cross-posted with the UCC “Witness for Justice” newsletter
Boiling
Thus says the Lord of hosts to all the exiles: Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Take spouses and have children; multiply there. Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf. – Jeremiah 29:4-7 abridged (NRSV)
Perhaps the most disconcerting quality about dysfunctional despotism is its normalcy. The ego, the obsession, the absolutism that drives power-hungry authority is so commonplace it’s practically mundane. It’s predictably trite. It’s reliably thin-skinned. It demands and declares and dictates, broadcasting self-importance to counter its unexceptionality.
It’s so conventional that it’s also, I’m sorry to say, relatable.
I’ve tripped over my own ego. Shouted just to be noticed. Obsessed over the unimportant. Hoarded what power I had. Stoked the fire of insulted pride. Believed I could wield authority better than another, if only they knew.
So I’m aware, when I rage and rant over authoritarian leadership, that I’m getting cooked in the same pot I believe myself to be stirring.
When Jeremiah told the exiles that God wanted them to live well in Babylon, it wasn’t an instruction to adopt the dis-ease of the Babylonian Empire. God wasn’t telling them to acclimate to the boiling pot into which they’d be thrown.
God was reminding the people that they weren’t soup ingredients—regardless of the pot of their circumstances. They were not celery and onions to be boiled down to taste like the empire. They were not mirepoix for the empire’s richness.
They were milk and honey: the taste of God’s abundance and freedom. They were daily manna in the city: reminders of holy nourishment to a world gorging itself on power and wealth.
They were blessings for the welfare of their community.
Prayer: Most Holy God, do not let me be reduced—not within myself, not within the world—to a morsel in the soup that feeds unjust power and wealth. Let me not be hungry for the meal that seeks to consume me.
cross-posted with the UCC Daily Devotional
For What?
What do people gain from all the toil at which they toil under the sun? A generation goes, and a generation comes, but the earth remains forever. - Ecclesiastes 1:3-4 (NRSV) If the writer was discouraged about the purpose of toil in ancient times, how much more now?...
Arise and Come Away
From greed, from vanity, from despair, from doubt, come away, o my soul. Arise and come away. From apathy, from anger, from mistrust, from fear, come away, o my soul. Arise and come away. Breathe in love, breathe out peace. Notice life as it touches your skin. Arise...
Cloudy
There are days when I do not mind your mystery, O Holy One, and days when I can even declare it to be the good news. But, oh! What I really want is for your cloudiness to clear, for your words to distill themselves distinctly, simply, for your history to guarantee my...
Adoration
A thousand burnt offerings, O Wisdom, not given in shame or self-righteousness but in a flood of awe: You are beautiful. A thousand burnt offerings, O Wisdom, to bring incense to the table you set for those humble enough to drink there. A thousand burnt offerings, O...
In Pursuit
Depart from evil, and do good; seek peace, and pursue it. - Psalm 34:14 (NRSV) The interstate highway signs as you enter Pennsylvania read, “Pursue your happiness.” I laugh and roll my eyes every time I see them. In part because happiness is a state of being, not a...
Psalm 130
To you, O God, we hold out our hearts. Deal gently with them, we pray. Increase their love with your forgiveness; soften their bitterness with your peace. Until peace comes, we will wait and watch. To you, O God, we hold out our hungers. Have mercy on them, we pray....
It’s Not about the Bread
Jesus said to the disciples, “Watch out, and beware of the yeast of the Pharisees and Sadducees.” They said to one another, “It is because we have brought no bread.” Jesus said, “How could you fail to perceive that I was not speaking about bread?” - Matthew 16:6-7...
Cedar Logs
Another sign, O Spirit, please -- another sign. You have poured the oil for a healing sign, and it is good. You have struck up music for a joyous sign, and it is good. You have gathered warriors for an encouraging sign, and it is good. I have felt the soft oil, my...
How the Mighty Have Fallen
Your glory, O God, stands triumphant in high places and low, in mountains and valleys, across rivers and oceans that once bled. How the mighty have fallen from their thrones! How the satisfied have been reduced to hunger! How the fortresses have crumbled to pieces...
