A few weeks ago I was in a waiting room as my truck was getting its inspection sticker. I was flipping through some old magazines and I came across a story about the confrontation between the Weaver family and the FBI that occurred a few years ago. The article described the Weavers as “white supremacists.” It struck me as a very weird thing to be called.
Later that afternoon I was working on the farm, while listening to music on my iPod on shuffle, and still thinking about the article. Coltrane’s “A Love Supreme” came on.
Hearing “A Love Supreme,” while thinking about “white supremacy,” it dawned on me: instead of “white supremacy,” why not “love supremacy”? What if there were lots of folks who decided to start referring to themselves as “Love Supremacists”?
And what if little pieces of the world start behaving as if Love is supreme?
I am a Love Supremacist.