Playing Fair and Being Kind

Today I read a fine letter on an Op-Ed page in a newspaper. The person stated the chaotic conditions of privilege and oppression present in our racist society seemed to be showing signs of waning. I agree with much of the sentiment and most of the logic carried by the article. I don’t, however, rest until it is recognized that the people who are suffering the most can join in the imagination of hearing the beautiful message. Their lives do not leave much space for looking around and enjoying what is facing them. They cannot stand back and view their predicament in terms of reflection and see the future in the slow creep toward peace and justice. Another item I need to mention as well is, the road to reducing/removing racism needs to be traced by white people. I think this is implied but it needs to be said unequivocally. Only the oppressor has the power to change the climate in which such an insult can thrive. Here is the essay with parts removed to not reveal the author, the locale, or the newspaper.

Sadly, here in 2020, we are still dealing with the same racial injustices, police brutality, economic inequity, environmental travesties, failure of political leadership and the passivity of far too many that has characterized our nation for much too long. If we want there to be justice in our cities and towns, now is the time for those “not injured to be as indignant as those who are.”

For those of us who are Christian, we must show righteous indignation for a U.S. president who would defile our sacred spaces and use the Bible not only as a prop but as a weapon. For centuries, the Bible has been used in such a way. Bigots have held up the Bible to establish racist systems of slavery, Jim Crow and Apartheid. Biblical illiteracy has been used to articulate theologies of entitlement that have red lined Jews, people of color, women, Muslims, Native Americans and those of different sexual identities.

If President Trump would only open the Bible, he might read the prophetic indignation of Amos, “Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever flowing stream” or the lyrical vision of Isaiah, “they shall not hurt or destroy in all my holy mountain” or the teachings of Jesus and the primacy of love. Not love in general but love in great specificity, love “for those who are hungry and homeless.”

Sadly, we are led by a president who doesn’t listen to the wisdom of the prophets and has proven himself to be neither Republican nor Democrat, neither conservative nor liberal. Our collective voices, those of all political persuasions, need to rise in indignation against the creeping fascism of our president and those who would enable it.

The body of George Floyd should serve as a tragic metaphor for the broken body of our nation. We are suffocating from racism.

But, thankfully, there is hope for resuscitation.

In one of her books, Arundhati Roy writes,

“We must tell stories that are different from the ones we’re being brainwashed to believe… Not only is another world possible; she is on her way. On a quiet day I can hear her breathing.”

I can hear her breathing when I see police officers put down their batons and shields and, with tears in their eyes, hug people of color in the streets of our cities.

I can hear her breathing when I see the number of young people — white and black and brown — standing up against gun violence.

I can hear her breathing in soldiers “who more than life their country love” and so break their silence for the human rights violations they have witnessed.

I can hear her breathing in health care workers who love “mercy more than life.”

I could hear her breathing when I took part in a peaceful march for justice, led by (name deleted), a longtime human rights activist and teacher in our communities.

I can hear her breathing in the people of war-torn Syria who, despite their own tragedies, have created memorials to George Floyd.

I can hear her breathing in the strident, indignant testimony of Greta Thunberg who has quickened the conscience of those who struggle for environmental justice.

I can hear her breathing in our precious teachers who keep alive the ancient wisdom of those such as Thucydides.

To honor the tragic death of George Floyd and so many others who have died, we all need to do what we can to breathe life into the body of our nation.

During my conversion, sometime in the mid-seventies while I was in my mid-thirties, I imagined who, in my opinion, would be the lowest privileged person. I had little regard for the U.S. Air Force at the time so that person would need to be an Air Force person. Already, I knew that mess cooks were low on the totem pole of life in the military. So, a mess cook in the Air Force would be pretty far down in the pecking order. Then I got serious. In my world, women were known to be ignored as were Black people. Those people we considered incapable of self-care were on my list. Paraplegics say. My final person of lowest privilege was a Black female Air Force mess cook with missing limbs. What started out as an exercise in privileged, cavalier imagination became very real in my mind. I have found/seen people in all walks of life who are disadvantaged by poverty, neuro-divergence, ableism, racism, sexism, body shape, etcetera. Even those people handicapped by lack of education or training and forced to live lives of constant need. My imagined person of no privilege has lived next to me for the past forty-five years. She has come alive. I see that person looking directly at me hoping I am not judging them. I have learned to love and cherish that person. I have internalized that person and taken them to my heart. That is the person who has to hear the breathing before I will rest. So far, they don’t even know what the heck we are talking about.

Gentle George
June 10, 2020