Make a Statement

Going to the library in Akron was a statement.

In Philadelphia and in Mission Year, I am constantly surrounded by new voices in my community, house, workplace, and church. These voices challenge me to view the world differently, to consider different perspectives in making decisions, to understand that I am part of a larger whole.

Going to the library in Akron was a statement.

In Akron, I am predominately surrounded by voices of people who look like me, have similar backgrounds to me—we tend to view the world in similar ways. Although there are pockets of challenge spoken into my life, a majority of my interactions in my hometown affirm the cultural position I hold rather than speak to it in truth and love.

I want to be challenged.

So I went to the library.

There I found voices—hundreds of voices—of people of all backgrounds and cultures who are asking questions. I found people of great spiritual commitment who ask the question I'm asking “What does it look like to love God and love people?”—César Chávez, Mother Teresa, Thomas Merton.

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César Chávez, Latino leader and organizer, what does it look like to live into your words regarding organizing? “[I]n a nutshell, what do we want the Church to do? We don’t ask for more cathedrals. We don’t ask for bigger churches or fine gifts. We ask for its presence with us, besides us, as Christ among us. We ask the Church to sacrifice with the people for social change, for justice, and for love of brother. We don’t ask for words. We ask for deeds. We don’t ask for paternalism. We ask for servant hood.” I’m intrigued.

Thomas Merton, your prophetic voice spoke into the truth of your time. I see that you lived a life committed to your time. “To choose the world is to choose to do the work I am capable of doing, in collaboration with my brother and sister, to make the world better, more free, more just, more livable, more human.” I also see that you live a life deeply committed to your God. As one living in faith and service, your words challenge and encourage me to keep on keepin’ on. I’m eager to continue learning from you.

Mother Teresa, the way you affirm the dignity in all is beautiful to me. You love recklessly, and freely, all in what I perceive to be obedience to Jesus. I don’t know quite what to make of your words, but there is something in your speech that draws me in to asking questions—questions I can’t quite put into words yet. 

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I found a book about the religious history of African Americans—I want to learn. I found a book on African Saints (Saints, Martyrs, and Holy People from the Continent of Africa)—educate me on the lives of the bold and beautiful on a continent where the media presents a very broad picture of “pity.” I found a book on Afrocentric sermons, sermons that speak to something deeper in my soul—empowerment and beauty.

In a yearning to open myself up to different cultures and ways of interacting with people, I picked up a book on West African folk tales. I heard The Tortoise and the Hare growing up, what have other children heard? I picked up a book about the Apache people in North America—a photojournalist (respectfully and beautifully) entering into their sacred ceremony as young Apache women enter womanhood. I’m learning a lot not only from the Apache people, but from the photojournalist who affirms the dignity in the people and will not exploit through photography. I picked up a book on Native American Wisdom, and found myself confronted with critiques on “the white man.” I wept with anger at the near genocide of many tribes of people done at the hands of my Euro-American ancestors. How can one move forward? (And by one I mean “I” and “we” and all in-between.)

Going to the library in Akron was a statement of my commitment to life-long learning and growth.

I am committed to listening to and being challenged/taught by marginalized voices.

I am committed to encouraging others on towards doing the same.

I am committed to doing so with the knowledge that by listening to others and considering different perspectives, it changes me (and us).

I see listening as a means to meet people in their own cultural contexts. When I meet someone where they’re at, I see that what I once thought was anger is actually hurt manifested as anger, what I once thought was control is actually fear manifested as control. Humanizing “the other” and learning from them (whoever “the other” is), I believe is one of the greatest tools towards conflict transformation, reconciliation, mutual respect, and peace.

I am committed to living into the loving act of active listening among people groups for the rest of my life. 

Let my life be the proof.

What are you reading? Who are you listening to? Who is challenging you? What statement are you making?

Let’s talk about it!