I am a Caucasian woman. I grew up in a middle class family. I had the opportunity to attend a four-year university. On the one hand, my life has been one of privilege. But what defines me most is that I care deeply about social justice. My life’s work is committed to it, my faith calls me to it, my heart has been shaped by the marginalized. And it all started by learning to listen and show up.
When you are born of privilege, one might ask, what brings you to care for social justice? For me, this has always been a large part of my life. My childhood was spent in a small town in Western Michigan. Rural living made poverty a reality for many in my community and outlying areas. My dad worked in a local foundry as a general manager. His workers often showed up on our doorstep. He invited them inside and helped them through whatever struggles they were facing, whether that was time shifting to make attendance or teaching a co-worker to read. Everyone who encountered him got second chances and thoughtful responses so they might keep their jobs.
My mom worked at the local elementary school as an advocate for at-risk families. My brother and I helped her with family nights and accompanied her on home visits. We sat in her office after school and colored with her students. At a very young age we understood the stress and trauma of poverty, the unfairness of child abuse and neglect, the difficulties so many families face, and the privilege so many are not afforded.
These families were my neighbors, my community, my people. Perhaps, I was exposed to a lot from a young age. In retrospect, I would not have wanted to live my childhood any differently. Through my parents, I first learned how to listen and see the hurting, and I witnessed first-hand the compassionate response of Christ.
As I grew in faith, this is the Jesus I come to know too: a God who sees the most vulnerable and cares for their needs; one who kneels and sacrifices though he has all the power in the world. I believe to see people through the eyes of Jesus is to see everyone made in His image. Each person is a unique and beautiful reflection of the God of the Universe.
Author Flannery O’Connor wrote, “The truth does not change according to our ability to stomach it emotionally.” The world is messy right now. I think our response as followers of Jesus, particularly those with privilege, is critical at this time in history. Luke 12:48 states, “From one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.” If we live with privilege our faith calls us to enter tension-filled spaces and remain there. We have to reconcile with both the past and present if we want true reconciliation for the future. We have to be willing to listen. We have to do the hard work of understanding privilege. We cannot default to a scarcity mentality. There is room for everyone.
Proverbs 22:2 says “rich and poor have this in common: the Lord is the maker of them all.” Jesus’s command in Mark 12:30-31 was simple: love God above all others and love your neighbor as yourself. This means offering the dignity of expansive love to our neighbor and acknowledging that they have just as much to offer the world as you. Once we, as adults, can embrace this, I believe we have a high calling to share it with the young people in our lives.
The kids in our life notice what we care about. When our daughter Ellie was in elementary school, my husband Kris was deep in the work of advocating for immigration reform. One day I went to the basement to do laundry, and stopped at her easel. Ellie had written over the surface in chalk, “welcome them in.” When we rise, they will rise too.
Working in education and youth ministry, again and again, I see that the youth are specially equipped to tackle tough issues. They are brilliant, curious, and creative. When our faith and our actions do not align, they call us out. We don’t have to have all the answers, but a teachable spirit goes a long way. The young people in our lives need to see our care and commitment to social justice issues, and we can learn from them as well.
The roots of injustice are deep. We all have God-given gifts to uproot that which is unfair. We can use those gifts which come from our positions of privilege to develop systems where no one falls through the cracks, change narratives that are racially unjust, and allow the marginalized to have a platform to speak. The world is broken, there is sin, yet we still have hope. I see the fierce light of hope when families, schools, churches, and neighborhoods choose to engage in the work of social justice.
Last week, I was the chaplain at a summer camp. The first night I read from 1 Samuel chapter 3. God speaks to Samuel during the night in the temple. Samuel, though a young boy at the time, responded with three words, “Here I am.” All week I kept coming back to those words.
God, here I am.
Here I am to listen.
Here I am to love.
Here I am to fight injustice.
Now is the time to not look away.
My book And Social Justice for All ends with this prayer-
Let this be written:
We listened
We were a people who cared
deeply, openly, and expansively
for all God’s people.
I was taught this well as a young girl and I intend to continue to encourage the same in others throughout my lifetime.
Lisa Van Engen’s book, And Social Justice for All: Empowering Families, Churches, and Schools to Make a Difference in God’s World, released February 2019 with Kregel Publishing.
If we have privilege, our faith calls us to enter tension-filled spaces and remain there. We need to show up, listen and respond in love. Click To Tweet
