Getting in Good Trouble

"Don't get into trouble."
How many heard this phrase innumerable times as children? I cannot speak for the dominant culture, but for African-Americans the words meant, "As you leave my sight, I bless you with this reminder because I love you dearly and want no harm to come to you in this world where people will judge you by the color of your skin." The words were spoken by elders who had witnessed countless unjust and unexplained atrocities against people for simply being Black.
They recognized a timeless pattern predating their birth and continuing until the present moment. Through their traumatic lived experience they knew well the lived experience of Jesus as a powerless person in an unjust and corrupt system. Like him, they too had witnessed innocent members of their family or community being crucified or lynched for affirming their humanity, embracing the marginalized, and questioning the status quo.
The elders understood what Billie Holiday meant when she sang about the strange fruit of southern trees, and why Nina Simone sang "Goddamn, Mississippi." They knew Emmitt Till's innocence was irrelevant to those who worshipped at the altar of white supremacy. They remembered four little girls in Sunday School who were considered dispensable. They saw Bloody Sunday not as an anomaly, but as the expected outcome when violence is state-sanctioned through legislation or silence.
Congressman John Lewis' hometown in southeast Alabama is only 50 miles from mine. Although we were born into different generations, I imagine we would have been shaped in similar ways by our common culture. That would include the obvious conflict between lived experiences and romanticized American ideals; the continuing celebration of the confederacy decades after their surrender; and the hypocrisy of a racially segregated Christianity. Each of these systemic realities contributed to the construction of an environment designed to disenfranchise and target African-Americans.
Making some noise and getting in good trouble, necessary trouble, on behalf of justice as modeled by John Lewis, is a patriotic duty. If we believe to be true as our Declaration of Independence states, "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights," we are charged with the task of operationalizing these words in the lived experiences of our fellow citizens. Congressman Lewis knew that this profound principle was for each of us regardless of race, color, ethnicity, creed, gender or sexual orientation. For more than 60 years, he courageously put his life on the line for this grand and overarching ideal.
A dangerous conflation of patriotism and faith has long fueled nationalism in the United States that is anathema to our higher ideals as were chattel slavery and Jim Crow. Congressman Lewis embraced his patriotism and faith in an inclusive manner that transcended barriers of division. Those to whom he has handed the nonviolent baton of justice must not be deterred by the risk of challenging injustice. We must be guided by a love that engenders camaraderie and kinship. That is the path to the beloved community.