My brother Mark over at Jesus Manifesto posted a short but incisive and strong reflection on being white in America, titled A Mountain of Bones – see link below.
Mark, as a brown brother I want to applaud your honesty and openness. By the way just like in Ezekiel, I can hear the rumble of the drums, the songs and the dance of the bones coming back with life.
A Mountain of Bones : Jesus Manifesto
I live at the pinnacle of a great mountain of the bones of the oppressed. Native Americans and African Americans and Latino Americans and others died to give their bones to my mountain. As a white man in the Americas, I was born profoundly privilegedâ€¦even though I grew up in the lower class or at least lower-middle class. My place in the world (and in the Church) is lofty.
The land for my mountain was taken from Native Americansâ€“like the Ojibwe and Sioux. The foundation was laid, in part, by the sweat and blood of African slaves. And every week a Latino gardener comes to tend the shrubs and flowers at my home on the pinnacle of my mountain.