A Child Crying in the Night

A picture not to be forgotten ... look at the child, her grief, her fear, and tell me, please, that we have the right to do this, because this little girl and her mother, her mother hoping for something decent, good, and kind, are "illegal."

To all the "legal" immigrants who came to this land, including my own ancestors, don't ever protest your innocence - that you did it right, or that your ancestors did it so. 

It's just written laws, pieces of paper, political gerrymandering, that determine legal or illegal. 

But is there not a higher law? The law of God? The law of love? Human dignity and worth?

And if you tell me that "your gawd" wants this child to be frightened and alone, and her mother shamed and denied, then to hell with your gawd; I want nothing to do with that kind of religion, that kind of meanness and pride. Your gawd, if that's what you call it, is a sham, a figment of your own distorted notion of pride, privilege, and power.

I don't want to forget this picture, a picture of suffering, suffering much the product of misguided policies, economic manipulation, misogyny, and white nationalism.

There is a higher law, and we all know it. Every human being knows it, and only with tremendous effort can that law be denied and buried under the debris of hate.

There is a higher law, the very purpose of which is embedded in creation, in the covenant, the cross ... and in the words and art, the dreams and dance, of faith, hope, and love.

There is a higher law that declares all are legal in the sight of God - everyone has a right to the shade of their own fig tree, and it's the purpose of God, the work of love, to insure this ... and it's the task, too, of every human being in the position of some power, enough power to make a difference ... for the children of our world.

Self-Made Man

Yup, I made me, and I'm damn proud of it. No help from the government, not even Mom or Dad or my bro, much less God. I did it all. And if you knew what was good for you, you'd start making yourself, right now. No more handouts from parents, friends, or anyone else, for that matter. And tell God to take a hike, because you're doing it your way, all by yourself. And one day, you'll be damn proud of that, what you made of yourself, all by yourself, with help from no one. And, by the way, did you know that "help" is a four-letter word? Get help from no one, and if anyone asks for help, tell 'em to go to hell. They're too damn lazy to work, so who cares. Yup, I'm damn proud of making me me, all by myself.

Until We Follow Scripture - Part 2

“Pride goeth before the fall” is tragically true for all of us, whatever our sentiments and whatever our hermeneutic.

We will never successfully build our tower to heaven, because God, with mercy and wisdom, confuses our language, to spread us abroad. Into every system of thought God builds the Babel principle to foster diversity and to create mutual need.

The diversity is a fact, but the mutual need is a choice we have to make, a choice driven by humility because we see through a glass darkly.

God restricts our take on things, so that love becomes the only glue that holds the Body together rather than agreement of thought and practice.

It’s love that requires us to say of one another: “It’s not my cup of tea, but your cup is just as good as mine.” Though I cannot abide with your take on things, I’ll not separate myself from you or try to cast you out. We will talk with one another until we’re blue in the face, and then talk some more. We will make room for one another, and we’ll find a way to yet live together. We will not go the way of the world by claiming “irreconcilable differences” – such a thought is nothing less than stubborn pride rearing its ugly visage in our souls and a denigration of “thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

Sin tempts us to claim the better cup of tea. Exclusivity feels very good on the surface of things, and it’s on the surface of things that we have to live in order to sustain our prideful judgment of others. Whether we love the Westminster and our detailed treatises on grace or whether we love the barricades and the struggles for social justice, superficial thought is the only way we can preserve our pride of place.

But probe beneath the surface of our claims, and we find a seething uncertainty and a vast discomfort. Manifesting itself defensively in ceaseless judgment of the other, or a humble embrace of the other in spite of profound differences.