“They say it takes poverty to let you love a toy.” - Widespread Panic
I grew up in what was arguably one of the most privileged places in the world. My hometown of Darien was one of the wealthiest small towns in Connecticut. It was a commuter town and many of its residents took the train into New York City for Wall Street jobs or otherwise. Realtors were exclusionary to whom they sold homes to (wink). Our school system would bring students in from urban cities around the U.S. through a program called A Better Chance (ABC) to give them opportune access to our well supported public education system. The young women in the ABC program shared housing and went to school together. I don’t know of any successes or failures of the ABC program because frankly at the time it was way off of my radar as were many other things. In Darien, parents were wealthy. Many of their offspring ran amok through keg parties, sailing school, Vermont ski trips and the like. Oddly, privilege was something I knew nothing about, yet all the while fully immersed within it. It was my norm. I was blind to it.
Fast forward to today.
There is a lot of conversation around "white privilege." And I have it. I was born into it. Reared within it. And now live with its implications. Through the years, within many experiences, and benefiting from the perspective of many relationships I realize that I am no longer able to be blind to it. As I look back, I can see how its access and its forgiveness has played a role in my life. It is my norm. In addition to my own story, I’ve heard many podcasts, interviews, broadcasts, etc., that have pulled off my rosy tinted glasses to an undeniable truth. My truth. My existence.
Through my years, this privilege (and you can add “white male” to the front of it) is something that I have taken advantage of. I am sure some has come willfully, without the intent of malice, but surely for my own gain, and I fully believe often unwittingly.
A recognition of this privilege has given me pause to try to see things differently. To listen more intently. To confess more vocally. It has given me a desire to seek more equity. And in instances speak truth into positional power and its status quo.
And there is a brother to privilege, and his name is Fragility.
A while ago, I had the opportunity to travel around the U.S. with a friend and colleague who is a cultural anthropologist. She is a brilliant and vocal woman who along our journey gave me the gift of perspective and honesty, and spoke to my blind spots. I was thirsty for the insight, but it was like drinking out of a fire hose. Often it left me staring at the ceiling in my hotel bed thinking. It has greatly impacted me.
You see, when you are in a position of privilege, you don’t like to be challenged. Privilege makes you “right.” And privilege can make “wrong” almost a non-option. But when our veil is pulled away, we become quite fragile to the honesty of sight. It is uncomfortable as it challenges the truths that are based upon our context.
But what about when it comes to faith. Moreover, the evangelical white male-driven understanding, and application of the Christian faith. Do we go about it with the same privilege and fragility? Do we let light shine into our blind spots? Or do we merely defend the sole perspective of “our faith”?
I recently was in a conversation about living a Christian life of faith and this guy said “It’s easy. You just follow the Ten Commandments.” You see, privilege makes this easy. Privilege says that if you do this list of things, all will be well.
But “easy” is not the case for many (I don’t believe “easy” to be the case whatsoever, but that’s a conversation for another day). Even if it were as such, there are many who would agree to this charge and pursue "the Ten", but it does not come with the results of “all will be well.” Now you can get all theological (read “fragile”) with me, and talk about eternity and such when it comes to "all will be well," but what I am talking about is the here and now. This life on earth that we live with other people.
While a "privileged faith" may hold truths, it is not fully true. It is our take. Our rules based on our experience. And often, it can be rather pleasant, full of vacations, jogging, church on Sundays, and “men's breakfasts.” But don't we want more?
Just as we need to come to grips with privilege and fragility within this position in our culture today, we need to do the same if we hold a "privileged faith". We need to embrace a challenge, and allow our fragile exteriors to be marred.
I love this quote from Twyla Tharp. “Our ability to grow is directly proportional to an ability to entertain the uncomfortable.” So if we hold a "privileged faith," let’s entertain this discomfort. It is how our faith grows.