I did a wedding today for two fine justice workers in our community. A simple affair, bringing a Latina woman’s family and an African-American man’s family together (married by a queer white woman…now THAT is the beloved community!).
The groom’s aunt, Mrs. M., is 82 years old. Last night at the rehearsal dinner (barbecue in the couple’s backyard, perfect), the bride introduced me and my cielo as “fellow travelers” in the immigration justice movement. Soon, Mrs. M. was thanking my cielo and I for our work and inviting us to her Louisville, KY home any time we wanted to come visit. She said we must have good hearts to do the work that we do.
Well, that would have been enough of a blessing, to have my vocation affirmed by an African-American elder. Then today, when we were passing the peace at the end of the wedding, Mrs. M. grabbed hold of my elbows and just would not let go. She was shaking a little. You are a blessing, she said to me, a blessing, you blessed me today…You have something special, such a blessing…
Well, I don’t really know what to say to that except thank you, so I just let her hold me and bless me and say I am just trying to be who God asks me to be.
Moments like these, these are how I know I am on the right path, God’s path of love and justice, and that I am dealing honestly with my privilege, and being a good ally to other oppressed and marginalized communities.
I give thanks for Mrs. M., and pray her a safe journey home.