Walk Humbly

There is a story in the Hebrew Bible about Naaman, a great military leader. Despite being great, Naaman suffered from leprosy. To be healed he had to listen to those whom he oppressed. He had to humble himself to bathe in a common river that set a boundary between his country and Israel. He thought it was beneath his dignity. But when he listened and humbled himself, he was healed. As I contemplated this story I saw our country in Naaman’s story. The U.S. is a great country – and it suffers the leprosy of white supremacy. Not the white-hooded kind that causes physical violence against particular people (though it exists). But the violence of systems that dehumanize and strip people of their dignity due to race, gender, religion, sexuality, culture. Our systems face a challenge similar to Naaman’s leprosy. As long as we are proud of being great, we lack the humility to be healed of the contagions that eat away at Beloved Community. I wonder whose stories we need to hear. I wonder what common river, or common space, we need to engage in?

I recently traveled to Alabama to learn more about the roots of our country. A friend asked after my return, “What was your take-away from Montgomery?” I am still processing it but here is a start…

It was a solemn experience to walk the places where violence has stained the ground and where people were sold as commodity. I mostly am overwhelmed by the inhumanity of white culture and the only way I can articulate it is horrific. Yes, humanity has a history of inhumane behavior. Is that our excuse to ignore it? I remember my mother challenging me after I had made a poor decision, “if so-n-so jumped off a bridge, does that mean you should do it too?” We must be responsible for our time, place, and actions.

We spent time in the Legacy Museum, Peace and Justice Memorial Center, the Civil Rights Museum, Greyhound bus station (where Freedom Riders were brutally attacked), and worshipped at Dexter Baptist Church where MLK Jr. had pastored. On a clear sunny day we went to Selma to stand on hallowed ground and walk the Edmund Pettus bridge. The bridge has an arch to it. Walking up toward the town, only blue sky holds the bridge. But my heart still begins to race as I imagine the scene upon reaching the crest of the bridge on that Bloody Sunday in 1965. The street stretching from the foot of the bridge was lined with hate – dogs taught to attack, men on horses, billy clubs. Hate for nothing other than the color of skin. And still the people walked on, walked right into the violence ~ knowing this is not the land of the free but of the brave.

The individuals lining the streets that day, the individuals who bore the history of selling and torturing humans, make up community. And community operates within systems; systems created to support the power of some while keeping others oppressed. I’ve come to realize the truly dehumanized are those that fail to see the humanity in others because they cannot even reflect on their own. We are soul sick and contagious when we lack the humility to openly listen and learn from fellow humans whose experience is different from our own.

This is my take-away from Montgomery. It was an uncommon opportunity for me to be the minority in this group of friends. It was an opportunity for me to learn through the lens of people most impacted by the systems we learned about. Together we witnessed images that many want to brush under the rug because they are too uncomfortable to look at, just like the systems that created them. I learned not only stories from history, but the effect of that history that lives into today’s generations of both those that cling to power and those who are oppressed. Perhaps the only ‘free’ in this country are the brave. And it is (past) time for systems and individuals within them to be brave enough to face our truth and create a system where communities can be healed and all are free.

What does the Lord require of you but to
act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God.
Micah 6:8

in this together…