We have forgotten

Remember the story of Joseph in Egypt? He was sold into slavery by his big brothers, the very people of his household that were supposed to be looking out for him. And while he was there, working as a slave and doing well, he's accused of forcing himself on a woman, when it was really the other way around. So now he's a criminal, forgotten, hidden away. Those who saw his plight promised to help, to speak up, but they forgot, or were too afraid to jeopardize their position.

This is what we've been doing to our black brothers for the last four hundred years.

We know how the rest of Joseph's story goes. Again and again God intervenes. Eventually Joseph is brought out of prison and given a position of power. He prospers, leads, and saves entire nations. But you have to remember that for BIPOC, we haven't gotten to this part of the story yet. Not. Even. Close.

There are moments when we think we're getting there. We celebrate Martin Luther King Jr. Day, we elect a black president, and we pat ourselves on the back that we've righted a wrong. We've forgotten that MLK was criminalized during his life, too. Imprisoned, oppressed, and eventually assassinated. We are blind to the roadblocks between those in the minority and advantages of any kind. We close our eyes to the hatred and disdain shown to a black president of dignity, intelligence, and integrity... and the acclaim rallied around our current president who rejoices in putting other people down, and who attacks, demeans, and mocks those in the minority, and anyone who disagrees with him.

Have we ever acknowledged the disgrace it is on our country: the hundreds of years before the abolition of slavery? The next hundred years of segregation and criminalization? And worse yet, the systemic narrative that follows people of color to this day: 'rebellious', 'dangerous', 'criminals'. Engraining fear, imbedding lies into the fabric of our culture. Changing words like 'different' and 'not like us' to mean fear and danger.

Remember what happens at the end of the Joseph story? The most Jesus-like moment. When Joseph forgives those who enslaved, oppressed, and tried to kill him. Remember it, and
Listen.
To.
Me.
Every time you see Black Americans living side-by-side with you: when you see them not burning down buildings and fighting and pouring out their bitterness... that is them forgiving their oppressors. Us.

Day after day, they live in forgiveness with the white majority that has held them down for centuries.

Can we still not get off their neck?

"Is this not the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the straps of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked to cover him, and not to hide yourself from your own flesh?"

Thanks be to the God of mercy that there is forgiveness to be had, that there are actions we can take. That I can start in my own heart, and on my own knees. In order to be anti-racist, we have to fight the racism in our own heart every day. In the choices we make all the time, in the actions we've been taking all our life. We have to speak up among our friends and our family. We have to reach out to the hurting. We have to listen. Really listen. And look beyond the shiny white history we remember.

We will have to be broken by this, before we can make a difference.

"Then shall your light break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up speedily; your righteousness will go before you; the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard. Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer; you shall cry, and he will say, 'Here I Am'."

When I say happy

"Be joyful, though you have considered all the facts." - Wendell Berry

I told someone the other day that what I wanted to be when I was older, was happy. And, like most things that come out of my mouth, it was true, but with a host of meaning behind it that I had neither the time nor the wit to communicate immediately. There are worlds ands stories behind what I think and say, and it can be hard for me to know just when to expound, before the moments and the words get away from me.

I don't want to be happy at the expense of being real and strong and brave. And I don't want happiness without a shred of sadness. I don't know what that is, and I certainly wouldn't recommend it. I reach for happiness because I have experienced the other: sadness, pain, loss, discouragement, loneliness. But numbness is the worst part of any depression, and to me, happiness is the spark that happens when I'm out of the dark.

Happiness is being able to appreciate the moment. It's not being more blessed, but being able to feel the weight of blessing I already have. It's gratitude and appreciation for the lives and world around me. It's having the ability to see, love, and pursue the people in my life that care about me, build me up, and bring me joy. It's having energy and passion to fuel my days. It's having enough time to notice and savor the big, staggering beauties, and the small glinting ones. It's shining eyes, grateful sighs. It's making and treasuring peace with the ones I love the most, and fighting for peace and justice in the broken world around me.

I've heard people differentiate happiness and joy so much that I think of joy more like faith. Joy is like the coal burning in the pit of my stomach that won't go out even during the darkest days of depression. It sits in the pain and declares the goodness of God, his care, and his arms beneath me. It's a lifeline wrapped around heaven's gates. It's a cord tying me to hope, insisting that I am loved, insisting that even if he cuts me down, I will still love him, and still trust him. Please God, I will never lose that.

But if I am granted another wish, it will be what I have not-quite-carelessly called "happiness": I ask to stay an optimist. To recognize goodness and beauty, potential and strength, in those around me. To see God in every stretch of sky, and every swaying tree, in every sidewalk flower. I want to be broken by beauty more often than pain. I don't want to drown in the to-dos and busyness of life, I want to gaze into the eyes of my (future) kids and just get giddy with gladness. I want to enjoy, live, laugh, participate, remember, appreciate.

And when I'm old and grey, I want to be twinkly and grateful. I want to pass on wisdom and laughter. This world can be an ugly place, and I would never want to shut my eyes to the truth. But I want the happiness with which to wage peace in this world. I want the happy ending of God's story to be painted into every corner of my soul. The part of the story that hasn't happened yet, but has been bought in full and set in stone. The deeper glory from before the dawn of time. And we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is. And he's a happy God.