Holey, Wholly, Holy

Five years ago, I had never heard of Juneteenth. Now it is a federal holiday. We live in our own bubbles, surrounded by our own little world. I’m sure I had heard the history of the Emancipation Proclamation, including the slow nature of that proclamation making its way into Texas, but it wasn’t something that stuck with me after I graduated. It didn’t affect my little bubble. But after May 25, 2020, it broke into my bubble.

Why? Why does it take tragedy to shake us out of our space and into a wider world of understanding? How do we strive to live as a part of a larger, beloved community of abundance?

There is a quote by Jesse Williams that is printed on a pillow near the home where I nanny that states: “Equal rights for others does not mean few rights for you. It’s not pie.” I love this quote. There is such abundance in our world, but that’s not what we’ve been taught. I enjoy such freedoms as a white American that no other can claim. I have been blessed to earn four degrees, decent paying jobs, a pension, a nice house in a good neighborhood. But when I left that professional world to be in the community it opened my eyes to a whole lot of “othering”.

One aspect of my ministry occurs at farmer’s markets where I work for Our Waffle Creations wearing my clergy collar and Pride hat. We were at an event at a where I saw young people with noise cancelling headphones who probably suffer from anxiety. I saw people from the LGBTQ+ community holding hands, laughing, living life publicly. I saw families with small children out to enjoy the beauty of the day. I saw older adults talking with neighbors. I saw people of all ethnicities speaking in more languages than I could count. And there was joy all around.

I thought about all the ways that our government is currently attempting to dismiss the “other” and I thought how cold, isolating, and colorless the world would be without each of these individuals adding their beauty, intellect, authenticity into our world.

I want to be a repairer of the breach, a restorer of streets to dwell in (Isaiah 58:12) where people are welcome and we remember that in abundance, which we DO have, it is not pie. I believe there is no reason for us to fear what is outside of our own tiny bubbles and that when we celebrate with others, we break wide open the possibility of one great community. This work takes time, but it is so important for us all to work towards.

So, on Juneteenth each year, I remember the slowness of the Emancipation Proclamation breaking through to places that wanted to deny the rights of people whose descendants were African. And I remember that pushing and pulling the wider community into a larger space of abundance is going to take remembering those who have fought and died to disintegrate othering. I must constantly look around me to see the beauty of diversity, equity, and inclusion that is hidden because of othering. May I witness and testify to the goodness in our differences each and every day.