One of the scriptures highlighted by this year’s camp curriculum is Psalm 46. During my time at camp Kum Ba Ya, I decided to rewrite this Psalm through my own lens, my own understanding of the context I inhabit, my own relationship with God.
My Psalm 46
God is an accepting place, a set of eyes who sees a vision of justice for this world, using our hands to bring that kindom slowly but surely.
God is my joy, my love, my sadness, my righteous anger, my grief, my vulnerability, my wonder, my bravery, my support.
There is so much injustice and inequity challenging your vision, your kindom come oh Lord.
Immigrants and refugees like your only beloved son are being denied welcome, denied dignity, denied their humanity.
Black bodies being denied life, denied equality, by the shackles of racism and privilege that plague our systems, our structures, our very way of life.
Queer people are being denied joy, denied life, denied care, denied love, all in a twisted rendition of your most holy name.
Our climate, our environment, your creation struggles to breath, to survive, in the name our greed, our quest for more.
It feels all to often that division triumphs while empathy is seemingly defeated, oh Lord.
Your beloved children are oppressed and oppressor, failing to see each other as beloved parts of your body, your family.
God, show me once again that you are here. That you are still here.
Here in the chaos, here in the division, here in the injustice, calling me to be a voice for belonging, for justice, for love.
Give me the courage to have hard conversations; to call out wickedness committed in your name; to use my privilege for change, for unity, for equity, for justice.
Use my hands to co-create your kindom, oh Lord. Selah.