“Who am I ” by Jenny Spidell
When I was asked to write a devotional for Black History Month, my first response was, “Sure!”
And then, pretty immediately, the weight of the task struck me. What do I, a white woman of privilege, have to say to her church about Black History Month? Who am I to speak about justice and racial reconciliation as if I have the solutions to today’s crises in my back pocket? I follow Black influencers on social media, I try to shop at Black-owned businesses whenever I can, I read books on racism and racial reconciliation, and I’ve got the “Black Lives Matter” stickers on my coffee tumblers. All of those things feel like steps in the right direction, but if racism is the iceberg and our country is the Titanic, it feels like I’m trying to divert the water coming on board with a Dixie cup. Will any action ever feel like it’s enough? What difference can I, a white woman of privilege, actually make? Who am I that God has called me into ministry with and for all of God’s children in the midst of such a fractured world? Have you felt the same?
After letting the weight of this devotional assignment wash over me, I found myself standing next to Moses in the desert. Face to face with the burning bush:
3:1 Moses was taking care of the flock for his father-in-law Jethro, Midian’s priest. He led his flock out to the edge of the desert, and he came to God’s mountain called Horeb. 2 The Lord’s messenger appeared to him in a flame of fire in the middle of a bush. Moses saw that the bush was in flames, but it didn’t burn up. 3 Then Moses said to himself, Let me check out this amazing sight and find out why the bush isn’t burning up. 4 When the Lord saw that he was coming to look, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” Moses said, “I’m here.” 5 Then the Lord said, “Don’t come any closer! Take off your sandals, because you are standing on holy ground.” 6 He continued, “I am the God of your father, Abraham’s God, Isaac’s God, and Jacob’s God.” Moses hid his face because he was afraid to look at God. 7 Then the Lord said, “I’ve clearly seen my people oppressed in Egypt. I’ve heard their cry of injustice because of their slave masters. I know about their pain. 8 I’ve come down to rescue them from the Egyptians in order to take them out of that land and bring them to a good and broad land, a land that’s full of milk and honey, a place where the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites all live. 9 Now the Israelites’ cries of injustice have reached me. I’ve seen just how much the Egyptians have oppressed them. 10 So get going. I’m sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.” 11 But Moses said to God, “Who am I to go to Pharaoh and to bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” 12 God said, “I’ll be with you. And this will show you that I’m the one who sent you. After you bring the people out of Egypt, you will come back here and worship God on this mountain.” (Exodus 3:1–12, Common English Bible)
I am 100% sure that God would have found another way to call Moses into ministry had he ignored the bush, or if Moses had been too consumed with his task to notice it - but he wasn’t. Moses saw the bush, stopped what he was doing, and turned with curiosity to see what was happening.
One of today’s burning bushes is racial injustice. Everyday, beloved children of God are suffering, and the flames of the bush continue to grow, calling out to any who will listen. Too many people walk right past the bush, going about their business. Have you stopped? Have you turned aside to try to figure out what is going on? Out of the bush do you hear God calling your name, saying, “I have heard the cries of my children, and I am sending you”?
Any and all actions of anti-racism, steps to educate yourself on Black history, purchases at Black-owned businesses, and “Black Lives Matter” stickers are all steps in the right direction. But don’t stop there. Continue to let the burning bush draw you in, so that God can reinvigorate your soul for the work of going out to do the work of justice for your siblings of color. If you find yourself comfortable with the way things are, it’s time to revisit God in the bush.
Probably none of us feels adequately prepared to challenge racism in our world, so we reply to God, “Who am I that I should challenge the norms, and bring my siblings of color out from under the foot of White privilege?” Here’s the kicker—God does not say, “it will be fine.” Nor does God say, “it will be easy,” or that “you will soon have all the answers and know exactly what you’re doing”... God says,
“I will be with you.”
The work of racial justice is hard, and oh so holy. I hope you will consider taking off your sandals and spending some time with God this month, specifically asking for clarity on what it is that God has equipped you - yes, you - for in the work of racial justice.
God of all ages, nations, and races—hear my plea for guidance and accept my apology for ignoring the cries of your children. I have seen and heard you in the bush of racial injustice and have been paralyzed by fear and feelings of inadequacy. Open my eyes and my ears to the experiences of my siblings of color; may my heart be moved to empathy as I dwell with them in their grief. Mobilize my hands and my feet so that “thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven” may actually come to fruition. May my love for my siblings of color be as radical as your love for all of creation, and may I never grow satisfied with the way things are until true justice is accomplished for all. Lord, in your mercy, amen.