They Kingdom Come in Heaven and in Mississippi and Alabama and Arkansas

On this Thursday morning during the season of Advent, my reflections turn, given my readings, toward Jesus incarnate in my life and work, and the place and space of God in the misguided creation that is our world.

The people with whom I am involved are Black farmers. They know their history and that history is one of oppression and subjugation at the hands of the powerful and privileged. Advocates like me are deeply involved

The stories are full of pain and suffering. They tell of staying up all night and watching lest the sheriffs come and remove them from the land. That has happened. I remember at this moment Eddie and Dorothy Wise. In the case of one in which it did not happen, she had a psychotic break. Loss of land, loss of livelihood, are real to these people. White people, uninformed as they are, come along and insult them by saying, “They must not be good farmers.”

The truth is that all advantages at the county committee level belong to the white farmers in terms of programs and services. When a Black farmer finally gets his operating loan and it is too little and too late, and the white farmer’s crops are already growing, that’s discrimination.

And, as President-Elect Joe Biden goes about the business of selecting his cabinet members, one he is making is strongly opposed by Black farmers and advocates. Vilsack had his chances for eight years, and during those two terms, Black farmers were woefully mistreated. The investigative reporting of Nate Rosenberg and Bryce Stucki confirm what we knew all along. When stories from within the USDA, plus the statistics, all converge with the dominant narrative of marginalization, that seals the deal for me.

So, what of meditation in this world of conflict and rage? I have always been at odds within myself, the part of me that is strongly oriented toward justice and that part of me that yearns for quiet and contemplation. When I am out there, writing, speaking, advocating, researching, attending meetings, and such, is Jesus there? Does Jesus attend with me and through me in those settings? How can I step out of justice and into contemplation? What are the mechanisms and personality traits and spiritual gifts that allow that to happen? Are they perhaps two aspects of the same spiritual gift?

The Christ child is soon to arrive with his parents in Bethlehem. Our children are soon to hear the gospel narrative read from Matthew and Luke. We are already listening to the songs on our XM radios as we travel about.

I want my soul to be prepared for His coming. I want His coming to be transformative in my life. On the day in the near future and on this day, today.

Black farmers deserve justice. I do not want Vilsack to be reappointed. I experience vicariously the rage of the people in these moments. I experience my own anger, disgust, nausea, and bitter frustration and powerlessness over this decision.

So, until I discover something else, my prayer will be “come Lord Jesus into my life and heart and as I work on behalf of your people, shine the light of transformation on me and in me and through me such that your will is done and not mine, and that your Kingdom will come on earth as it is in heaven, in Washington DC and in Grady, Arkansas, and in Columbia, Mississippi. And, like the persistent widow, I know what I want. I know what the people want and what they do not want. While we protest and write and protest some more, we will plead with you, and we will in the words of the text, ‘wear you out with our coming’ so that your will and ours will align.”