Wide Awake

You say, “woke” like it’s a bad thing.

As if you’d like to go through life sleeping, lulled by the gentle flashing of your Netflix account. Or perhaps blinded and deafened by the sneaky snares of social media? Better yet, insulated by the narrow theology of your faith community, certain that, because you follow all the rules and adhere strictly to the prescriptions laid down by your uneducated pastor, you’re all right and everyone else is all wrong. He’s so certain, after all. For that matter, so are all the “experts” on social media and your TV screen. We’ve taken advantage of our ability to curate our lives so forcefully that we’ve missed the opportunity to see it another way and we’re not even awake enough to regret the choice.

You say, “woke” like you’re not curious about the lives or experiences of others and like you don’t care who they are, what they’ve been through, or where they came from. You say, “woke” like you’re living the dream and everyone else is not. You live as if everyone else would be okay if they would only live exactly like you. The thing about people is that, unless they come to you fresh from the womb, they’ve lived a whole life before you’ve even met them. Even when they do come to you fresh from the womb, there’s a family history that will impact everything about them. We cannot assume the lives and choices of others - the only life we’ve really lived is our own.

So, let us be gentle with one another.

For my part, I’d like Christ my King to find me wide awake when he returns, eyes fixed on the eastern horizon and hands busy healing the harms caused by me and all my brothers and sisters. I’d like him to find me with my eyes wide open, ears unstopped, and heart turned towards those the rest of the world has forgotten. I’d like him to find me savoring a pot of soup, smelling the wildflowers, digging in the dirt, singing my favorite songs, and gazing in wonder at the stars. His world was made to be lived in, and that means enjoyed. I don’t want to be asleep. And I certainly don’t want to be asleep, but trick myself into thinking I’m awake as I settle for a counterfeit version of my life.

I’m confused by Christians who don’t like the term “woke”. And, to be clear, that’s mostly who I’m talking to here. If you’re not a Christian and you balk at “woke” ideology, I can actually understand why and conceive of a few ways that you might have come to that point of view. For Christians, though, there are multiple parables in the teachings of Jesus about keeping watch, staying awake, and being aware of the ways that we can be distracted from our true identity and the purpose of our lives. We can give way to sloth, money, power, and any number of other things along the way.

We just finished the season of Advent in the Church calendar and the primary message of that season is to watch and wait for the coming of the Messiah. With ancient Israel, we remember the centuries of watching and waiting, with increasing revelation, for the coming savior who would crush the head of the serpent who set this whole system of death in motion. Life is mostly a struggle because we were never meant to die and we know it, deep within our bones. With Advent at our heels, for now, we can turn to the life of that savior, so long awaited.

He wasn’t anything that we expected, of course. God never does things like we think he will, mostly because he makes the rules and we don’t. Jesus Christ was incisive, cutting to the heart of every matter he spoke on and he spoke with particular conviction on the matter of staying awake. The consequences for not paying attention or, in some cases, literally falling asleep were dire: missing the heavenly banquet and all possible healing in the age to come.

I don’t know about you, but living in this world riddled with death has made one thing certain for me: I ache for the world to come. I’ll never be satisfied this side of Heaven because all the wounds won’t be healed until I get there. And we have so many.

So, if healing is offered on the other side of death and the only one offering it (Jesus) tells me to stay awake, why wouldn’t I be “woke”? Why wouldn’t I be curious about the ways that we’ve, collectively, missed the mark on loving our neighbors? Why wouldn’t I want to know about all the lives that I’ve never lived? Why wouldn’t I want to open my eyes to invitation to stay awake and watch not only for Jesus’ coming again, but for the ways that he’s already coming in small ways, each day? The whole point is that his Kingdom is coming and he will is being done on Earth as it is in Heaven, yesterday, today, tomorrow, and in the age to come. I’m not advocating for believing everything that you read or hear, far from it. But I am advocating for a heart that humbly gives everyone a listen. I’m advocating for curiosity, compassion, and the possibility to learn that we were wrong and change our minds. I’m advocating for holding up all that we learn to the light of the Holy Spirit and trusting him to show us how we should then live.

If that’s “woke,” then I’m guilty as charged. And maybe, Bride of Christ, we ought to consider why there aren’t more of us with a rap sheet? Whose voice are you listening to? Because no man, theological system, political party, or lifestyle can save you or give you an identity. Only Jesus can do that. And you cannot serve two masters.