Today/ yesterday I went to a Baptist revival. I don’t know if you’ve ever been to one of those (if you’re white and live in the north, chances are you haven’t), but they are basically a weekend long festival of faith, complete with singing, praise dancing, and sermons.
Revivals are not usually my thing. But my spirit has been feeling so parched, so weakened and drained, that I jumped at the opportunity to go.
Some things to note:
- Revivals usually last until Monday at the latest, so the chances of a revival happening right when I needed it, on a Tuesday? SlimCity.
- My Aunt texted me and told me where she was going before she left the office. This literally never happens.
- I generally dread revivals, but something(someone?) motivated me to leave the house on a rainy night (with fresh hair, no less) to be with other people of faith.
Three words: Three. Part. Miracle.
From the moment I stepped in the door, I went to a deeply emotional place. My ears were open and my spirit was ready to be fed. Every word spoken, sung, wailed, and whispered felt as if it was specifically for me. They spoke about the prodigal son.
I’ve heard lots of prodigal son sermons, and they are all pretty much the same, focused on the son returning/sinner repenting theme. This sermon was different.
Firstly, I, Miss pro-black-anti-white-privilege-give-folks-a-chance, discovered what a hypocrite even I am because I seriously misjudged these pastors. I assumed these were ‘called’ men. And in my liberal, cappuccino brown Presbyterian world, I equated that with a lack of formal education.
Wrong. The pastor began his sermon by referencing a Bartolome Murillo painting that he saw on a recent trip to Spain. He went on to focus his sermon not on the prodigal son, but on the other brother, the hater. The pastor said that the other brothers sins of jealousy and pettiness were no less than the sis his brother committed in the eyes of God. Then he went on to say that those in the church are often guilty of the same sins, sins less visible to others like judgmental attitudes, envy, and pride.
Shots fired! The next sermon was about Grace- you know the kind with a capital G. The pastor spoke on Jeffrey Dahmer, and how he repented before he was killed in prison. That agitated me, deeply. I don’t really believe his repentance is sincere, but that’s when I realized what I think doesn’t matter- it’s between him and God.
And that’s the whole of Christianity in a nutshell-- love everybody, don’t be petty, and have faith that in every situation, God will work it out.
It’s a pretty lofty set of ideals for us mere mortals, but can you imagine what the world would be like if people of faith actually held themselves to their own religious standards?
I’m usually the one raising hell (pun intended) at church, agitating and challenging our congregational body to do more to dismantle white privilege. I’ve always felt like they were in a position to do so much more than I ever could.
But tonight, in a cramped storefront church in East Cleveland, a fire was lit in me, something that moved me to do exactly as the final sermon suggested: stop making excuses and start having expectations. Everyone is in a position to help, even me, especially me, I’M A BUSINESS OWNER!
But I’ve been running my company in that typical ‘Christian’ way- “yeah, I want to help others, eventually, but right now I have to worry about me”, talking all the talk but not walking the walk.
I’m over it. I’m capable of so much more than what I’m doing. I’m smart. I can figure out a way to help people now, and help myself in the process.
As you get to know me, you’ll see that most of my worldview is shaped around ‘fixing’ America, which to me means dismantling white privilege without bloody revolution. Being the genius that I am, I have already come up with a solution that if I published in full would be redacted and the Men in Suits would disappear me somewhere or pull me over for no reason and murder me in jail (#whathappenedtoSandraBland) bad for all parties.
Suffice to say, we need to start at the bottom. According to a study done by Brooking Institute, Forty Two percent of children born in the bottom quintile stay there. They have children there, and forty two percent of their children stay there. For the uninitiated, the bottom quintile means people living on less than $29,000 a year for a family of four. That is perpetual poverty, with a 60/40 shot of ever getting out.
I want to change that. I believe as an American, that for our country to thrive, we need to change that. I believe as a Christian, that radical temple crashing Jesus would want us to change it. And I believe as a business owner, that changing it means changing the way I do business.
I’m going to do something crazy. I’m putting my money where my mouth is (but not in my mouth, money is nasty.) I’m going to throw my business plan out the window and step out on faith. I want to use a portion of my proceeds to give mini-grants ($25- $500) to small business owners just like me. Not the people who already have employees and high credit scores, the people at the bottom, the ones who might not know their credit scores at all, the ones who are just trying to make it.
I am moved to do this because despite the fact that I am far from successful, I know there are people out there that would kill to be where I’m at, just because I have an online store and a safe place to live.
If that feels right to you, it’s between you and God.
I don’t know how this is going to work. I’m not sure what the qualifications should be for getting money. I’m thinking money to pay for a vendor’s license, a grant for business equipment you can’t afford, or maybe funding to go to a trade show, etc. I’m still working out the kinks, and I want to hear your ideas too. For now I’m going to start by setting aside twenty percent of whatever I sell in an ‘everyday angel’ investing account. Email me at GoldenGoddessCosmetics@gmail.com subject line everyday angel with ideas on how I should spend it.
-Ajah
