The Place of Privilege

The Place of Privilege

I know I write from a place of privilege.  I want for nothing, my family are all home - none of us are on the frontlines, my cupboards are stocked, I have a park for a garden, I can get daily exercise and my workplace is within walking distance. My family throughout the generations including my Gran (97) are all well and are their usual chirpy selves(!).  Okay, maybe not quite their usual chirpy selves. Everyone I phone to offer help to are sorted which of course is fabulous. I’d far rather that than have anyone go short.  What then can I offer into these circumstances?  What encouragement can I offer?  I know God is with you yet for many it feels like he is taking a badly time vacation.  

None of us are avoiding the troubles of this time.  And I know that God is getting the blame from some.  He is in a place of privilege it would appear.  Where is he when so many are dying?  Why isn’t he fixing the world?  Why doesn’t he do something?  As you pour out your frustration to God, you are standing in the same place as many others have before you.  Read the psalms and you will hear your emotions reflected in them. When Jesus shares the Beatitudes - it is not blessed are the rich, blessed are the privileged, blessed are the employed - Jesus says blessed are the meek, blessed are they who mourn, blessed are they who are peacemakers, blessed are the poor...

Yet even in my place of privilege I know the anxiety of this time.  I feel it for my young children, shaped by this time.  I feel it for my congregation, many of whom are shielding and missing the contact of grandchildren or good friends. I feel for the families mourning as funerals are held with a handful of people. I feel for those waiting at home anxious for news of loved ones, unable to visit even those who are in hospital with, dare I say it, normal health concerns.  I feel for those I haven’t contacted since lockdown for one reason or another.  I feel for my Gran who is in a sheltered home in Perthshire, and with whom I have had longer conversations than at any other point in our relationship.  She was in the WAF and has decided that this is better than the war because at least no-one is trying to blow her home up!  Another lady - Mary - of the same decade told me this is worse than the war because at least in war time, they could go outside and meet up, they could have groups and share together.  Both my Gran and Mary, however, are incredibly resilient and could teach us all something about hanging in there and making the best of it. 

God is with us. Whether we are in the fields of contentment, the valley of the shadow of death, or the table of our enemies, God is there. We might be like Moses, broken and lost, running from our place of privilege and wandering the desert looking after another man’s sheep wondering what happened.  Yet God is there - the bush burning but not burnt up.  We might be like Elijah, given our all, burnt out and exhausted, crushed by selfish people and crippling systems - God meets Elijah with physical sustenance, then spiritual sustenance and then a reminder that he is not alone.  We might be like Mary, sweeping house, listening to Roman soldiers bullying people in the streets, praying for freedom, when God turns up with the promised Messiah.  Paul writes that we live in the world but we are not of the world. This world is what it is and we have to take responsibility for it.  God provides us with courage, strength, wisdom, knowledge and creativity beyond any other species and with that we have responsibility.  We can make the world a better place.  We can learn from this time.  We know the value of human life is the same whatever our creed, race, religion or sexuality.  We are reminded of the value of family and friendship, previously often lost to the busyness of life.  We are blessed by those society (politicians) looked down on as ‘lower class’ workers as the first became last and the last became first.  Suddenly celebrity status means very little as we clap for key workers or thank God when the bin has been emptied.  

God is in this season.  He is present holding the hand of the dying, for I believe that God is there for every birth and present at every death. Now is the season of challenging the stereotypes of global society, building community in streets where neighbours were strangers, where communication is concentrated and focussed, where what is essential proves how much was window-dressing.  What do we truly value? 

Just as I wish I could do more to help, I wish God could too but that is not the way this world works.  Yet miracles do happen.  As the world resets, as nature heals, as we come to appreciate the real value of life, maybe there are miracles already happening.  And if I can let go of my self-importance and place of privilege, maybe I will see what is really happening, and praise God even as I pray for the sick and the dying, the fearful and struggling.  We are the people of the cross and the empty tomb - there isn’t one without the other.  But the empty tomb speaks of life not death.  Life will overcome death. 

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son that whosoever believes in him will not die but have eternal life.  John 3:16

Blessed are they who mourn, for they shall be comforted. 

We live in the hope of life eternal, that what we have and see is temporary.  Nevertheless we are called to be good stewards, to look after this world, and to love God, love ourselves and love our neighbours.  We are in this together - God and humanity share responsibility, working together.  So live well in this season, open to new possibilities, open to a brighter future, and the knowledge that God will be present always, even to the end of the age. 

May God bless you richly with what you need, whatever that may be! 

Now these three remain - faith, hope and love, but the greatest of these is love. 

Love Sarah