Last week, I spent time on a service trip with Sojourn in Oakland California. We slept at a church called Three Crosses Church and helped do repairs for a local multi-ethnic and multi-generational church in an Oakland neighborhood named Regeneration Church. We also did work for a newly started nonprofit called 1951 Coffee Company that runs a coffee shop that hires and equips refugees with barista skills in order to help them enter into the American work force. They also provide mentorship to the refugees they serve and provide other support to this group experiencing the loss of a home community.
That’s about all I want to say right now about the trip, at least for right now. I am extremely thankful for the experiences and for the people I met there. Every moment was a growing moment, and although I am exhausted, it was a good trip. Thank you to my fellow Sojourners, and thank you for this trip that, like Sojourn, embraced the uncomfortable messiness of our shared existences in a meaningful context.
During this trip, we were given the wonderful opportunity to attend a dialogue hosted between various church leaders in the Oakland area from various racial and ethnic backgrounds at Regeneration Church. Among these leaders, there was a Latina woman who was a campus minister at UC Berkeley, a black man who led a local church in one of the Oakland neighborhoods and who was also a mentor to other local church leaders including the pastors at Regeneration Church, a white man who led another community church in one of the greater Oakland neighborhoods, and finally an Asian woman who was the head of worship arts at Regeneration Church and a former professor of Asian-American history. There was a ton to unpack from this dialogue, but one theme that deeply stuck with me was the need and desire to listen. Over and over again, each leader talked about how important it was to listen to people who thought differently than themselves and to listen to people from different backgrounds and identities.
What struck me the most about this entire dialogue, and a lot of the ideas expressed by the various different people at Oakland I met, was how convicted yet not judgmental everyone was. There was a sense of urgency and importance to every social justice cause hurting the various communities that were marginalized in the neighborhoods, and yet there was an intense dialogue that was constantly constructive, listening and yet also sharp. Nobody seemed, and perhaps this is not the best word to describe it, pharisaic. This convicted and yet open and dialogical attitude was incredibly pervasive in the groups we worked with and it was extremely refreshing. There was some kind of courage in it; each leader embraced the messiness and was unguarded, yet they were all convicted and idealistic and willing to work through the challenges without embracing any bitter hatred and self-righteous judgment.
Although there are various reasons for this mentality and attitude, I believe part of it was a drive towards an external sense of justice and social good that was more important than any sense of self-righteousness and moral superiority. In fact, I believe there was a lack of focus on the self entirely, and it was this avoidance of focus on self-image and self-righteousness that resulted in a much stronger conviction and the ability to cause a much greater positive impact on society. The focus was on something much larger than oneself, and it allowed more empathy and dialogue to exist.
This difference is incredibly important. It has lasting impacts on the self, on the greater societies that we as selves influence, and on our world in general. Arrogance is both blindness and a social wedge.
Since this character flaw is so detrimental and affects so many variables in our greater society, I must ask myself this hard reflective question that actually connects to my previous blog post: am I arrogant? How much humbleness pie do I need to eat?
On the last day of our spring break service trip, we did this Sojourn tradition called The Hot Seat. The Hot Seat is perhaps one of the most Sojourn things in existence. Here’s how it works: one person sits in a chair in the middle of a circle made up of everyone else. The person is the middle is not allowed to say anything. Then, for two minutes, everyone else says kind and uplifting things that they think or have observed about this individual. It’s incredibly inspiring and incredibly uncomfortable. There are some hilarious pictures of us in the middle of it on Facebook. Everyone looks so uncomfortable in the moment. In every picture of the Hot Seat, one of my friends has the same uncomfortable expression on his face. His look reminded me the look that Jim often gave in The Office.
The funny thing is, after it all happened, everyone was so sentimental and alive. We were all so alive. It is a messy and uncomfortable experience that is so very much worth it for everyone involved.
Anyways, when I was on the hot seat, many people told me they loved hearing my thoughts and reflections. One friend called me a philosopher and said I unlock new places in the minds of my peers. Another friend said my thoughts enhance any discussion I am a part of and that I add a wonderful and quirky dynamic and unique perspective to discussions. My closest friend from Sojourn who is honestly like a sister to me described me as the most human person she has ever met, an idea that I am still contemplating the meaning of. Honestly, what does it mean to be very human? It received snaps from everyone around. She then also reaffirmed a sentiment expressed by nearly everyone else from Sojourn: that I should keep talking and continue sharing my thoughts.
But should I? I have a sense of arrogance in me. I am afraid that I just like to hear myself talk. What if that’s why my blog posts are so long? What if that’s why I talk a lot? What if that is the underlying intentions behind my words? If that is the case, my thoughts and my contributions could easily become, and often are, harmful and detrimental. That being said, there are times when I genuinely feel like what I am saying matters and that I actually need to say something. And yet, there are times when I feel like I am expected to be deep or philosophical and need to share something. There are times when I catch myself genuinely concerned about my image and how people see me. I honestly really could use some humbleness pie.
How one obtains humbleness pie, right now, is beyond me. Perhaps I need more solitude in order to better center and harmonize the various drivers and structures that exist in my head. Hopefully then my focus can return to the greater causes and meaningful conversations that I care about and I can contribute towards in positive and enhancing ways.
Until then, perhaps I will have to hope my intentions are largely pure.
Or perhaps I need to speak less and listen more.