An Oppressive Reality

Do you know, I always hear about how poorly treated are Christians in the US. I'm not saying that mistreatment cannot happen in the US, but I wonder- are the stories I hear, or the news I read only a small percentage of what really goes on? What's the other percentage?




When I was younger I was, obviously, a picky eater, so my parents would tell me, "Tine, there are children starving in Africa- eat your food." In my head, I would respond, "Well, then send it to them." What my parents were trying to tell me is to be grateful for the food set before me, I only know that now.

Lately, I've been reading and learning that there is a food shortage right here in this, my adopted homeland of the US. No, I haven't discerned which information is propaganda and which is factual, but whether exaggerated or otherwise, there are those who starve here in the US. To imagine that every US citizen is well-fed is to be disillusioned. Social-economic problems are not reserved for second and third world countries, because of this, though first world countries have the ability, perhaps even the responsibility of helping those weaker than themselves this gives the illusion that somehow those who are helped must be weaker than those who give help: this is perfectly fallacious.

Since problems do not choose a type of person, persons; state, country, nation; era, I have to know, believe and understand that problems can and will arise everywhere- anywhere.

I do not doubt that people starve anywhere and everywhere (willing and unwilling starvation).

I do not doubt that Christians are poorly treated even in this religiously-free country, but I do doubt the extent to which Christians are poorly treated. I sometimes wonder if this poor treatment is unwittingly self-inflicted.

I cannot tell you how many sermons I've heard about the oppression of the Christian faith in even a small town coffee shop; how many articles I read about pastors wrongly imprisoned for sharing the Gospel.

I am well aware that Christ said if they persecuted him how much more so will his followers be persecuted, and yet, how much we do tolerate in this country. Some (left or right winged, or middle, or none) say we tolerate too much, forgetting that they themselves are a part of those tolerated.

But like the 'starving children in Africa' analogy to my younger picky-eater years, the fear of embarrassment for sharing your faith solicitously in a small town coffee shop cannot be compared to persecution of Christians that occurs elsewhere in the world. (And if you misunderstand the former comparison, let me clarify: 'starving children in Africa' can hardly be compared to a middle-class child's refusal to eat meals; however an attempt to teach gratefulness.)

Honestly, who doesn't get teased for being too smart, too tall, too freckly, too pale, too quiet, too loud, too girly, too boyish, too weak, too strong? We tell every child that teasing is just going to happen, but what matters is not what others think (because they're not thinking in the first place) but what you think of yourself, and how you choose to live your own life. We do not judge others because they can't be judged--we do not judge others because we, too, are to be judged.

What poor treatment is teasing for my faith? Is that really the least I can suffer for my faith? That's not really suffering- I just need to get over my insecurities. Much more insecurities than persecutions!

We ought to be more careful of the words we choose to describe our individual pains.

Glorified Tourists

I don't know much about where I live. At least, not all the little details. 

Me: Oh, and these are Brownstones!

Friend: Oh, what are they made out of?

Me: ...brown stones? Haha, I'm sure they're not all brown-colored. You can paint over stones.

But the little I do know seemed to suffice for our adventure last Saturday. That and our smartphones are embedded with GPS systems [:

Walking around the city, any city, you will always overhear conversations, and encounter strangers, find new holes-in-the-wall (or another Starbucks) especially when you're willing to get lost. There's nothing more enjoyable than walking about aimlessly, your only goal to enjoy the company you're with. What else do you need?

"Food."

Oh, well, that's a given! Good food always comes with good friends!

Now, if you find it necessary you'll have to forgive me for this next bit: I always forget that every adult used to be a child. 

How did I come to this thought?

Walking around the city, any city, you will always overhear conversations, and encounter strangers, find new holes-in-the-wall (or another Starbucks), and if you're not careful you'll forget that these conversations, strangers and holes-in-the-wall are someone else's familiar scene.  

It was really the strangers that struck me. They all were, at one point or another, an adorable baby learning to walk, to talk, to feed himself. I never forget that every child will become an adult. I forget that every adult used to be a child.

What's stopped our childlikeness?

Have we forgotten what it is to fly?

Have these city walls worn us down so that their previous glamour is now moldy and damp?

But the strangers I encountered: the homeless, the immigrants, emigrants; the tourists (not very much unlike me), the artists, the students, the runners; the commuters (everyone) they all wore expressions that I couldn't label for you. They stood there, alone or with a couple others, mostly with headphones on, stuck in their individual worlds; going about their day.

Were they as methodical as children?

Sometimes, I think everyone needs to be a tourist in their own hometown just so they can encounter some of the local mysticism, historicity: so that everyone can remember what it was like and, hopefully, be more grateful, for the privileges they now have. 

Yes, we all want to be remembered, but do we remember anyone?

I wish I knew more about Harlem's Brownstones. Well, then, I'll study up on them! That way the next time you follow me around I won't be a glorified tourist

glorified tourist definition :: one who resides in, but knows little to nothing about, tourist hot spots

(the term 'glorified' may also describe babysitters, cooks, etc.; any person who is familiar with, but not an expert in, said profession or   category)

I'll be your legitimate tour guide.

I imagine that if I know more about the area, more about its history and mysticism, I'll be more apt to remember its residents: rich and poor. These are my neighbors, after all. Don't I want to know my neighbors?

I could wander anywhere if you let me, and if you didn't mind my disappearing for a few hours because I promise you I will disappear if you don't wander with me. I may or may not find my way back to you, but whether I find you or don't I hope it won't bother you if I don't find you.