Saturday, April 16, 2022

Estoy buscando un sepulcro vacio.

 Struggling with meekness this Holy Week. Struggling with.... no, conflicted about. If you walked down the street and poled the general American population, how would they define meekness? Granted the quality is so foreign in the American vocabulary, half would probably spend a good two minutes word searching, before settling on weak. The other half would have just bypassed the word searching and gone straight to weakness. 

Why is meekness seen as weakness in the United States? 

It's not a difficult question to answer. It's simple really. We are a product of our environment. We are a country that runs on energy. A caffeine-fueled, ticker-tape driven, speak-now-or-never society that speeds through a day at breakneck pace. An extroverted country that thrives on stimulation, and in this case the more the better. We pass this down through the generations in a subconscious propaganda that this is the recipe of success. Who hasn't heard the colloquialism, "the squeaky wheel gets the grease?" Who didn't have a teacher call on them in class to speak whether you had your hand raised or not. Speaking up is expected, appreciated and rewarded. In my own experience, I had an undergrad professor call me to her office to tell me, "quite frankly, you annoy me!" Based on all the papers I submitted she could tell I was, in fact, aware and engaged in what was being discussed during lecture, yet never participated in the discussion myself. 

This expectation is not true in other cultures. Thought crossed my mind this past week that perhaps I should have been born in China and raised a student of Confucianism. I held the thought long enough to chuckle at the idea, and then let it move on as fast as it had come. I am here by divine design, introverted with a painful preference to not speak and all. 

This isn't an argument about the pros or cons of cultural tendency. Plenty of those arguments already exist. I've been reading them, trying to understand how my value can add to this world, whether that may be through words or not. 

As a product of my upbring, though I routinely choose not to speak myself, I still sought to surround myself with those that have that talent. I hold them in respect, almost an awe. They area individuals that are able to open their minds in time with their mouths and have coherent, reasonable streams of consciousness issue forth with confidence. The exact kind of person my undergrad professor would have loved in her class. In other words, I myself am as guilty as my neighbor in propagating the American ideal that meekness, or quietness, submissiveness and docility, is a less-than trait. 

We as Christians know this not to be true, and can probably all quote Matthew 5:5 "Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth." And this is the start of my struggle and source of conflict this past week. How can I first come to terms with meekness, not as a weakness. Then how can I exhibit meekness yet be willing to stand and speak when called upon? How can I learn and embrace meekness yet speak up?  Perhaps questions easier for many others than myself. 

I look at my Saviour's footprints this weekend. The strength it took for him to be meek, perhaps moreso than what my understanding can comprehend. Meekness coming from a strength so strong, and fueled by a Love so pure and great.

He is Risen!

Much Love.

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