Thursday, November 3, 2022

Optional Memorial of Saint Martin de Porres, religious

 

Lectionary: 488

But whatever gains I had, these I have come to consider a loss because of Christ. More than that, I even consider everything as a loss because of the supreme good of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.


In our first reading today from Saint Paul's Letter to the Philippians, he mentions his Jewish origins and his mission to the gentiles. I am reading a theological book about relations between Jews and Christians, an extremely complicated and thorny question. I will not in this brief essay attempt to add anything to that conversation. 

But today's feast of Saint Martin de Porres invites me as a white male in the United States to consider my apparent advantages "as loss because of the supreme good of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord."

In the 1950's my mother spoke of her Irish ancestry and remembered America's history of discrimination against Irish immigrants. She told us of how her parents and grandparents demanded equal rights and pay, especially through organized labor. She also knew the history of slavery in the United States, and the practice of federal and state governments of violating treaties with Native Americans. 

In the 1960's my parents marched in demonstrations demanding equal rights for African Americans. They believed no one should be mistreated, abused, or neglected because of "the color of their skin." 

No one spoke of culture in those days -- unless they talked about modern art, ballet, and opera -- and my people in the west and south ends of Louisville could not appreciate the different cultures of African-, Native, or Asian Americans. America was a "melting pot" in which everyone should someday look and think alike. Religion, of course, set no one apart, and made no difference. 

Our understanding of culture today is more sophisticated, and our choice of religion should make a difference. 

So today we hear Saint Paul considering as loss the advantages of his Jewish heritage and culture:

Circumcised on the eighth day,
of the race of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin,
a Hebrew of Hebrew parentage,
in observance of the law a Pharisee...

Like Saint Paul, I could boast of being a while male. I was born with certain advantages including a safe neighborhood, good schools, sturdy religion, and good health care. If I was harassed by other children, it wasn't for the color of my skin or my religious preference. They were just being jerks, and our differences could usually be ironed out with fisticuffs. 

I have met many people of my own age, African-Americans, and Native Americans who did not enjoy these advantages. A friend of mine was the first black person to integrate the white school in her home town, although her skin was no darker than mine. She entered as a senior, and her new classmates knew which side of town she came from. They refused to speak to her and would not accept her as a teammate in any sport. Entering the theater, she watched movies from the balcony, and drank from the "colored" water fountain. Graduated, she entered the labor market as a white woman and discovered upward mobility. 

In the same town, an older Catholic woman, darker skinned,  told me she had aspired to, and attained, the highest possible ambition. She taught high school. She could not be a lawyer, state or federal representative, law enforcement officer, or CEO.   

In the 1960's, many Americans hoped all citizens could attain equality as more resources were exploited and wealth was evenly distributed. We might attain a serpentless Garden of Eden. But it has not happened, and cannot happen, because people like me are unwilling to "consider as loss" the advantages of our birth. 

They are essential to our identity. My people say, "I am white and I deserve better! I may not be wealthy, well educated, or more successful than others. But I am white! And I cannot surrender who I am." 

Writing in the 1960's, James Baldwin and his black contemporaries knew that. The challenge of the cross and Saint Paul's invitation remain. When the tide comes in, not all boats rise; some have been intentionally sabotaged by racist policies and attitudes. Equality is not a matter of economics, education, culture, or health. It is a spiritual issue in a nation that is not serious about its faith. 

When we are ready to "consider everything as a loss because of the supreme good of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord" we will know peace. 



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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.

Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.

I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.

You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.