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Thursday, February 16, 2012

I Was In Prison...

It's been a minute since I've been able to write. 

But this just dropped on me like a ton of bricks.  Lately I've been involved in conversations about "righteousness" and preserving the integrity of our church.  I'm with that.  Many of the folks advocating for reclamation of righteousness tend to be fairly traditional and conservative in their reading of Scripture.  Despite the fact that my reading is a bit more progressive, we are all generally able to agree to disagree, and to come together in Christian love.  That's wonderful. 

But for me there's always a bit of a disconnect.  Yes, some people will be liberal and some will be conservative and they earnestly believe they are rightly dividing The Word.  And I'm pretty clear on my position:  We can't stand on the infallibility of The Word unless we are standing on the Original Word, the one written down in Hebrew, Greek, and Aramaic.  Absent an ability to understand those languages, what we stand on is faith in another human being's interpretation of The Word.  The "Authorized Version" that so many people cling to was commissioned (not exactly authorized) by King James VI of Scotland, who would become James I of England.  There's a lot of baggage in that commissioning and in the work that was produced.  We need to acknowledge that baggage (the whole idea Puritan influence and the ideas of religious superiority) in order to better understand the product that was produced. 

And that's what sorta comes up for me right now. Righteous living is great.  It's a wonderful thing.  But we have to acknowledge or differentiate between "righteous living" as synonymous with social conservatism (or obeying the Levitical holiness codes) versus Righteous Living as a function of the New Way offered by Jesus.

Which is what struck me:  Jesus said "I was hungry, ... I was thirsty, ... I was a stranger, ... I needed clothes ... I was sick, ... I was in prison ..." Jesus, having taken on mortal form, puts himself right in the midst of our human needs, our human failings, and our human frailties.  When our bodies need sustenance or our spirits need companionship, those are the times that Jesus identifies with us.  Not only does he identify with humans, but he calls those in need his brothers and sisters. Interestingly, He goes on to speak about "the righteous" who are cursed because they did not meet those brothers and sisters at their points of need and who go away to eternal punishment, versus the truly righteous who did respond to "the least of these" and who go on to eternal life -- who are granted access to Almighty God.

So here's the deal:  to say "I was in prison" presupposes that failure on some level is part of the human condition.  I  was in prison -- and still deserving of your fellowship.  I was in prison -- and still deserving of God's Grace.  I was in prison -- yet I was still part of the brotherhood of humankind.

And to GET to prison, I had to either break some law or (as is the case with too many of our urban youth) be unjustly accused of breaking some law.  But to get to prison, I had to fall outside the established societal boundaries.  EVEN IN THOSE SITUATIONS, we don't lose our importance to God, we don't become disenfranchised from the human family (Rom. 8:38-39). 

What am I trying to say?  Just that all humans are in some sort of prison -- our spirits are trapped in bodies and that's not a natural condition for a spirit.  But in this natural world, many people sin and fall short of the glory of God.  Some get caught for that and end up in prison.  Some may get caught and not end up in prison.  That doesn't make them any less deserving of our love; we need to understand that they are still our brothers and our sisters.  Not only should we not disparage them, but we need to reach out and help them.  to be truly righteous, it seems to me, is not to shun or shame someone who has fallen short, but to reach out and help them to stand tall again.  To be truly righteous is to realize that, but for the Grace of God, we would be hungry, naked, thirsty, strangers, sick, and in prison.

While our souls and spirits may have been set free by the Christ who dwells within us, we are NOT relieved of the duty to minister to those who are still imprisoned. 

I was in prison -- how will you respond?

Monday, February 6, 2012

Thoughts for Tuesday, February 6, 2012

I'm not that into football.  My oldest cousin, whom I idolized, was left fatherless as a child.  Seems his dad  was a fullback for Tennessee State.  He had a habit of  dropping his head, I guess to bulldoze people.  Well, he did it once and broke his neck.  So I grew up never really watching football (although my cousins used to play catch and tag football and tease me because I wanted to play with them.  They'd ultimately end up in a game of keepaway...).  I don't understand its rules like I understand some other sports.

And I'm not usually interested in football except for the Superbowl.  Which is even more exciting when a team I care about (or an NY team) is playing.  I'm not real sad the Jets didn't make it; their coach is a rude, coarse, and tactless bigmouth.  But the Giants coach is a quiet, humble, and determined man.  The whole team exudes, IMO, good sportsmanship when they're interviewed, and I like that.

So I was really excited that they won the Superbowl for the second time in their second meeting with the New England Patriots.  Even though my dear friend and classmate is the Governor of Massachusetts, I LOVED the fact that the Giants now OWN the pats.  Congratulations, NY Giants!!

NYC is a happier place when we win the Superbowl.  Strangers greet each other on the streets.  I went out, bad leg and all, for an evening stroll (in what must be the epitome of stupidity, I walked about a mile last night to go to White Castle because I didn't want to move my car from its primo spot in front of the house.  Except that I have a paid spot that's only a block away.  Let's see.... leave the car in front of the house and walk a mile or move the car, lose the spot, and walk a block.  I chose to walk the mile.)  But it was cool.  My leg really does need movement, and I think that driving a car all the time doesn't give me the same degree of exercise as when I had to use public transpo. 

Although I am very grateful for owning a car.  I still use a metrocard when I have to go downtown during the day (which is increasingly more and more), and generally find it crowded (with people who have germs) and stinky and unpredictable.  When I'm in the car I can choose what I listen to.  On the train, I have to listen to whichever lunatic is talking the loudest.  Driving has spoiled me, I have to say.

I started this post to speak about an issue, which is same-gender-loving people.  Yeah, I spent lots of time working with People Living with HIV/AIDS; I'm also an African-American clergyperson.  The viewpoints represented by the two groups are generally quite divergent.  Same-gender-loving people generally want to be treated "the same" as everyone else.  Sorry, that's like treating people who are physically challenged "the same" as everyone else.  Maybe this is not pc, but I don't want my fireman to even be a small-statured female, let alone a physically challenged person.  And yes, I said "fireman," not "fire fighter."  It's not that I don't believe women are capable of it; it's just that men are generally bigger and stronger.  I'd prefer one of them.  I'd be OK with a requirement that said firefighters had to be at least 6' tall and had to have no greater than 20 or 25% body fat.  That would cut out a lot of woment, but it would also cut out a lot of men. 

Getting back to the point:  I don't think we should aim for a homogenous society where we pretend everybody's "the same," which is totally different from saying everyone has EQUAL RIGHTS.  I fervently believe that every American is deserving of equal rights.  That should have nothing to do with how you have sex or don't, how you procreate or don't; or whether or not you marry or don't.  It should have to do with your being an American.  But I'm doing my taxes right now and I'm a single woman. I don't know for sure, and hate taxes too much to run a sample scenario, but I'm pretty sure that if I were married, I'd be paying less taxes.  Yet, I don't have kids who go to school, so why should I pay less taxes than someone who's married and has three kids in public school?  I made decisions that meant I didn't have a bunch of kids on the public dole; why should my tax dollars support people who made decisions to landed them on public welfare (I'm not talking about people who ended up needing a hand; I'm talking about people who choose to drop out of school and have kids and then keep having them because welfare will pay more and because it's "easier" than having a 9-5).  There's something wrong with that.

And there's something wrong with me imposing my religious beliefs on everyone else.  As a Christian, we can't even agree on this same sex thing.  Some are vehemently opposed to it; others are enthusiastic supporters of it.  Anti-same-sex people always cite Biblical prohibitions against it, and argue that "sin is sin."  I get that.  I sooo get that, and I agree with that.  What I don't get is why we fail to understand that 1) unless we're able to read the Bible with the eyes and ears and in the language of the intended audience, then we're not getting the "real" Bible.  we're getting someone's interpretation; 2) we've conveniently ignored other Biblical mandates in Leviticus, like being put to death for using the Lord's name in vain (Lev 24:16), or for spiritualists (Lev 20:27); or the necessity for animal sacrifices (Lev 4: 1-10); the sanctioning of human slavery (25:44-46); the ban against eating fat (3:17); the ban agasint cutting your hair or beards (Lev 19:27); or eating shellfish (Lev 11:9-12); the death penalty for adultery (Lev. 20:10), or the fact that anyone who is disabled is considered "profane" (Lev. 21:18-23). 

Why is it that we've rationalized away all these other things in Leviticus but want to harp on the same-gender-loving issue as sin?  Violating any of the mandates above is sin, yet most of us do it without thinking about it.  Who made the decision that some sin is acceptable and other sin is not?  If "sin is sin," then shouldn't we consider ALL sin an affront, including those sins mentioned above?

Oh, New Testament?  Ya wanna talk New Testament?  Jesus?  The same Jesus who said we have to sell all our possessions, give them to the poor, and then we could follow him? (Luke 12:33, again in 18:22), the Jesus who tells us not to store up treasures on Earth (Matt: 6:19) -- that sorta shoots a hole in the whole "Prosperity Gospel" thing, you'd think, but thousands are still following that one...

In Matthew 25:31-46, Jesus tells us that how we treat "the least of these" is how we treat Him.  How many Christians open up their houses to the poor?  Mark 10:25 tells us that it's easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God, but you never hear us talking about denying rights or privileges to rich people.  Indeed, we give them preferential treatment.

OK, so I kinda went off on a tangent there.  My point is this:  We make all kinds of excuses when we want to use the Bible to support our point of view, and we use the Bible as a sledgehammer when we want it to confirm our point of view.  But if we were to pray on the meaning behind the Bible, that all are flawed, none are perfect, and no one can hope to have access to God except through the saving grace of Jesus the Christ, which is for ALL who will accept it -- if we are to pray on and stay with that meaning, if we are to focus on being FISHERS OF MEN (where we do the catching and leave it to God to do the cleaning), then perhaps, just perhaps, we can begin to meet our brothers and sisters where they are. 

Perhaps we can acknowledge that, "hey, you love your brother or your sister a little differently than I do." We can even go so far, if we must, as to say "I'm uncomfortable with that," or even "I think that's wrong."  But I don't believe we should go so far as to say "I'm uncomfortable with YOU," or "I think YOU'RE wrong."  You may be different.  I may not understand you.  I may not even like you.  But you are one of God's miraculous creations, just as I am.  How in the world -- no, how in the UNIVERSE could I dare to presuppose that I somehow have a corner or a handle or a monopoly of some sort on God's salvific power?  How could I presume to know that God's salvation, extended to all, has been grasped by me and not by you?  How could I know that, while looking at your grip on salvation, I have not somehow interfered with my own?

I don't know.  It's late, and I have to get out of the office.  But at the end of the day, I don't think you get to sit in judgement of anyone else.  If you think certain things are wrong and not in keeping with your religious (or social or personal) beliefs, you get the right to think that.  You get the right to speak on that.  I just don't think you get the right to judge that, or to treat those "others" in anything besides a loving way. 

If you're wearing a horrid color that simply does not serve you, common sense and common courtesy do not demand that I tell you right then and there.  If I don't know you, I might look at you and go on my way. If you're my friend, I might call you to the side and put a bug in your ear, but at the end of the day, how you live your life and wear your clothes is between you and your tailor or stylist.  I'm totally free to think or have an opinion.  I'm totally free to not associate with people who are (IMO) fashion-challenged.  But I don't get to act differently towards them.

It's the same way with same-gender-loving people.  What's all the fuss about?  So you don't approve.  So you don't understand.  Who made you the final arbiter?  Jesus didn't ask you to monitor who loved whom or how they loved;  Jesus commanded YOU to love one another -- to love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind, and all your strength, and then to love your neighbor as yourself. 

Nothing else to say. ....