HER GRAVESTONE SAID, “August 24, 1952–September 13, 2015.” Seeing the date written out like that made it so final. Ma was gone. I realize now that I judged her and her choices. I said in front of crowds and in private conversations that the life she provided for us was “poor,” and I subconsciously hoped that she would come to see the city and the university she sent me to as more valuable than the place she sent me from. I did not know that was going to be one of the outcomes of my education, and I am disappointed that I could draw such a conclusion about the woman who raised me and the place she reared me in.
I wanted Ma to see jazz and ballet at Lincoln Center, hear poetry at the Nuyorican cafe, and smell the autumn air in a stroll down the Museum Mile to the Met while tasting different flavors of gelato. I wanted her to experience what is supposed to be the richest congressional district in the country, taking a break from one of the poorest places in America. She responded that she liked her simple life.
As I sat in Grand Central Station writing these words on my laptop, I thought about how Ma knew something about being rich that economists and my humanities professors missed. I remembered the words that echoed in my mind as she slipped from life to death and life again with God: “What will it profit a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul?” (Mark 8:36 NKJV).
Profit, gain, prosperity: all synonyms for what historians say America has amassed more of than any country in human history. Yet this again is a claim rooted in the sands of white American folk religion, not the rock of the kingdom of God. It is a lie that the attainment of the American dream makes us truly wealthy.
After Jesus said that he must be crucified, Peter attempted to get Jesus to change his mind. Later, though, Peter confessed that Jesus truly is the Christ. Jesus then says,
What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul? Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul? If anyone is ashamed of me and my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, the Son of Man will be ashamed of them when he comes in his Father’s glory with the holy angels. (Mark 8:36-38 NIV)
What does it profit me to gain access to wealth, fame, status, elite education, and higher rungs on social and economic ladders at the expense of my own health and well-being and of those around me? What do I truly acquire from this world when its offer is ultimately meaningless and separates me from those I love on this side of eternity and Jesus on the other? The cost to follow Jesus is high, yet the reward is infinitely greater. The cost of worshiping money and pursuing pleasure is also high, yet the reward is fleeting, finite, and temporary.
As I looked at Ma’s gravestone and considered my family members that I was parted from while I was working for better economic and educational opportunities, I asked myself, What did I leave this place for?
The answer was clearer than ever: WAFR; specifically, the American dream and the prosperity it promised. I left to pursue a false prosperity that centered on my own wants and needs, not on Christ’s kingdom and his righteousness.
Looking back, I also can see that I left because every person I met told me that I had to. My leaving was not just some personal project but an intricate part of the social fabric that I come from. African Americans have long fought for access to the wealth and prosperity of America. So, it’s no mystery that the migration for opportunity and resources existed when I was in high school and persists strongly to this day.
Though most people I knew had not been where I was going, they told me I had to get out. It was as though my talents with words and sports qualified me for release from the prison of Brodnax, Mecklenburg County, southern Virginia—and from the South altogether. I didn’t question it when I opened the letter with confetti inside and then bought my train ticket on credit to visit Columbia University. I didn’t question it because I was told that I would adjust. I was shocked when I arrived in August 2004. I could not fathom how people lived the way they do in a big city—millions packed into tiny spaces where rich and poor strive to make a life out of giving up as little time and money as possible to gain as much time and money as they can. This was the rat race, and now it was my turn and my privilege to run. This race was a good thing, I was told by family, friends, admissions officers, and “good Christians.” So, I ran and didn’t ask many questions. I am still running today because I am unsure of how to stop.
We who ascribe consciously or unconsciously to WAFR’s tenets have moments of striking clarity when the ramifications of our beliefs rise to the surface and must be faced. Mine come every moment I reflect on my momma’s life and death. The inconsistency in what I say and what I value brings tears to my eyes. How could I do that to her? And not just to my momma but to my aunts and uncles, and my church family that loved me as best they could with unwavering support.
I will never forget the kindness of Ms. Thomason. I had put together a puzzle for my momma of the Manhattan skyline and wanted to frame it to go in her living room in Brodnax. So I went to Thomason’s frameshop, but when I got out of the car, the wind caught the edge of the cardboard I had mounted it on and 20 percent of Manhattan blew onto the ground. Thomason and I sat at her counter for an hour talking and putting the puzzle back together. She had time for that, and she had time for me. She also took the only $20 bill from her register and gave it to me to support my work with InterVarsity in New York City. The same would be true of Uncle Marvin, Robin, and Glenn at Dogwood Graphics and Louis Blackwell at Meherrin Baptist Church and the hours’ worth of conversations they had with me. These people lead rich, deep lives, and my leaving to get the “best” was not supposed to mean that I saw their wealth and depth as deficient and impoverished because it was different from what I was now taught to value. I was not supposed to become educated so that I could say others were ignorant, backward, or stupid. I was not supposed to succeed in a city so that I could insult folks who lived in small towns and suburbs.
It is possible to live a meaningful life in loving service to God and other people in Brodnax, Virginia. Simultaneously, it is also possible to live in New York City and live a life of purpose and beauty.
But this is not what the lie of American prosperity and its interconnected myth about the American dream would have me or any other person on this planet believe. The idol never outs itself. Because if we stop to question the race to acquire material wealth, then the house of cards falls apart.
One name for this house of cards is GDP (Gross Domestic Product). The United States makes a convincing and attractive case based on the sheer financial holdings of its citizen worshipers of WAFR. It makes the proclamation that this type of life is good for all people. At the turn of World War II, with much of the world in disarray, the United States accounted for 50 percent of the world economic output, cementing its monetary dominance.1 Decades later, the United States still holds 25 percent of global output and the largest economy. Closer to home, the US median household income per year is about $60,000, while it’s $27,000 in the United Kingdom, and $8,000 in Brazil. Scientific American puts it most clearly:
With less than 5 percent of world population, the U.S. uses one-third of the world’s paper, a quarter of the world’s oil, 23 percent of the coal, 27 percent of the aluminum, and 19 percent of the copper. . . . Our per capita use of energy, metals, minerals, forest products, fish, grains, meat, and even fresh water dwarfs that of people living in the developing world.2
These numbers are striking because if life, liberty, and comfort are America’s goals, then we have little competition. If prosperity is our ability to buy and dispose of 140 million cell phones and 300 million pairs of shoes annually, and eat $14.3 billion dollars’ worth of chocolate per year, then we are winning the race.3 From the perspective of WAFR, it makes no sense that Peter would leave his fishing business to follow Jesus or for Matthew to stop collecting taxes and give away four times what he had taken. For these two men, following Jesus was an explicit invitation to stop following the evil influence of material wealth. Here is where the sin of greediness rises to the surface of WAFR.
Greed is not exclusive to America, but the cultural adoption, social validation, and societal prodding for more in the United States is unprecedented. Not only is selfish ambition promoted, it is unapologetically projected onto every successive generation with more force. Tim Keller, founding pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian Church in New York City, says,
As a pastor, I’ve had people come to me and confess that they struggle with almost every kind of sin. Almost. I cannot recall anyone ever coming to me and saying, “I spend too much money on myself. I think my greedy lust for money is harming my family, my soul, and people around me.”4
WAFR invites us to wealth and status measurable in dollars and cents, and a personal paradise defined exclusively by our own efforts plus talents and chance. The invitation is to practice the same sin that put African slaves on ships and drove Native Americans to reservations. Jesus calls us to forsake the comforts of this world and live in the kingdom of heaven where we lack nothing because we have the Son of God. This is true riches according to the Holy Scriptures, yet to have only Christ is poverty according to the framers of the US Constitution.
As followers of Jesus experience true prosperity on this side of heaven as a result of not bowing to the idol of wealth, those who fall outside of the pursuit of comfort by choice, failure, or force are pressed to the edges of our culture and consciousness so as not to interrupt production in the American marketplace.
There is the illusion that “we all have it made in America” and “we all have a shot to make it in America.” This appears to be true because our country hides those who haven’t “made it” (or refuse to try) from those who have and are presently running the race. Many Native Americans live in exclusion on reservations, in sparsely populated areas, or were forced to assimilate, leaving their culture behind. Jim Crow laws along with loan, mortgage, and insurance discrimination based on race are slowly scrubbed from public education materials, and any media highlighting present-day racism are dismissed as isolated incidents. Mass incarceration, unjust education policies, and other tools for segregation and subjugation are dismissed as mere theories because “look at the success of Oprah and Obama.” Immigrants are criminalized, forced to assimilate and exchange their ethnic identity for whiteness, or remain on the outside subject to ridicule, prejudice, physical violence, or abuse of power.
Moreover, Americans of European descent who lack higher education and financial resources too often live in neglected suburbs, public housing, or rural communities increasingly fraught with suicide, addiction, high incarceration rates, and vulnerability to corporate exploitation via low-wage jobs. Even the wealthy hide debt and maintain lifestyles they can’t afford by using credit to keep up appearances.
Under WAFR, wealth and work communicate the value of a person, and the faithfulness of a person is measured by their contribution to the economy. Wealth is blessed and work is worshiped. If I am not perceived to be bringing my offering, then I am a “taker,” a “welfare queen/king,” that is lazy and entitled. If I accumulate or inherit wealth and power, then I am a “maker,” a “job creator,” and someone to be celebrated, revered, and protected. Without reflection, this is an enticing idea for those without means. No wonder those around me at Park View High School told me to go as far and as fast as I could. It was sobering for me to believe the lie that we are all created equal and then realize that I had been placed in an arena to jockey for social position while suffering under a centuries-long system of intentional handicap.
It is true that the United States has accumulated more financial resources than any nation in history. It is also true that it is spiritually bankrupt and devoid of purpose and vision outside the pursuit of more security, stability, and material wealth. WAFR leaves all parties wanting. But the people of God lack nothing (Psalm 23). Followers of WAFR—pursuing the American dream—are not truly prosperous because their souls are owned by an idol made with human hands off the backs of other humans. This pursuit will never satisfy their deepest needs. Jesus comes into this reality and offers freedom and an abundant life with him.
As my mother lay dying, I did not quote Plato’s Republic or pontificate on Emerson’s existentialist musings. I did not try to leverage my connections to get better treatment, or charm the doctors and nurses for extra care. Instead, my family and I sang the songs of slaves who knew what true freedom was and served the Master of the universe rather than the master with the whip. Jesus said,
Do not store up for yourselves [material] treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart [your wishes, your desires; what your life is centered on] will be also. (Matthew 6:19-21 NIV, with my additions)
There was no question where my momma’s riches were invested. Because she died in Christ, she will share in his resurrection. This indescribable wealth is the desire and inheritance of the Christian, and it shines in beautiful, victorious opposition to the bent knees of WAFR.
What were your dominant feelings as you read this chapter: curiosity, hope, surprise, confusion, numbness, familiarity, distance, or something else?
When were those feelings most present?
What phrases, stories, or historical events resonated with you?
What events or narratives were you unaware of? What did you learn?
Where do you disagree or have concerns?
What questions are you carrying?
What do your parents and grandparents believe about people who have little savings or financial wealth?
Conversely, what do they believe about people who do have material wealth and resources?
What do your closest friends believe about those who own homes or rent in “better” neighborhoods?
What do your family and closest friends believe about people with large debts, or who receive welfare, or live on social security?
How do you see individuals and families who suffer from material poverty, or live in impoverished areas, or live in “developing” nations?
How would your self-esteem and the way you see yourself change if you lost your job and savings, and had no way of making an income?
How would you change your life to become rich in the things of God and not the things of this world?
Sin is personal, relational, and systemic. Something might not be our fault but it is our responsibility.
If you, your family, or people group consistently judge those you perceive to have less and you think about or treat them differently, you have not honored the image of God in them and need to lament, confess, repent, and seek reconciliation.
If you, your family, or people group have consistently built your identity around financial wealth and material possessions, you are bowing to idols and need to confess, repent, and seek reconciliation.
Take a moment to write your own prayers of confession. If you need help, here is an example.
Gracious God, in Christ Jesus, you teach us to love our neighbors but instead we build dividing walls of hostility. You show us how to love one another as sisters and brothers but instead we hide from our own human family. You ask us to seek out the stranger and welcome the guest. You want us to share your abundant gifts with the poor but instead we cling tightly to our possessions and our privilege. You call us to proclaim good news to all people but instead we waste our words and hide our light. Lord, our loving God, have mercy on us. Forgive our sin, open our hearts, and change our lives. Fill us with the Holy Spirit. Make us holy and whole—one people, united in faith, hope, and love through Jesus Christ, Our reconciler and redeemer.5
After you have prayed this prayer of confession, ask someone to pray this prayer of blessing over you, because after confession there is always blessing. Jesus doesn’t send us away but instead sends us out to bear witness to and for him!
In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, you, brother or sister, are blessed and sent as a seeker of shalom and justice for the powerful and the powerless, the oppressed and the oppressors, the privileged and the marginalized, and all people made in the image of God. You have been reconciled to God by the blood of Christ Jesus and filled with Holy Spirit. You are therefore Christ’s ambassador, called to call all to be reconciled to him and one another by the name of the risen Lamb that reconciled you. Be blessed between the now and the not yet to preach and practice the ways of Jesus, making sacred space for those in your care to be loved through sacred listening and Christ-centered spirit-led activism. Like Moses, you have been sent to Pharaoh to make Yahweh known so that Egyptians and Israelites may worship in spirit and in truth, now and for always. By his grace, through the gift of faith and for his glory. Amen!