Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Sermon: Crucifixion

And this is why the current and loudest voice in the Christian sector scares me. This is why I quake in fear and loathing. As far as I can understand... he's an icon for evil and hatred. His little god is evil and mean... tormenting believers..b y this pastor's own admission.

And why do I keep going back to thinking about religious things? Why does it move me so much? Why do I get so emotionally involved?

I think some of that answer was in the article about the Pope this morning.. and in my response, some of which didn't get shared on fb yesterday, when I was fighting with C-chan.

Within Christianity, which is in my religious history, the calling to heal, to help, to restore, to love - a frame work for the idea of service... a shared vocabulary for honor and the tools for a community... the template for forming a community with others... and I long for that.

While Christianity was the vocabulary of abolitionists, it was also the vocabulary for people who supported slavery.

I was thinking this morning though... that while if you take the Bible literally... that god is evil. If you take those stories literally.. he's a genocidal monster. He makes Chutulu look like a weekend party goer. If anyone wants to give a go at justifying an actual flood that terrorized millions of kittens and small children, before snuffing out their lives in a fiery agony of never getting another breath - please -by all means... please tell me how an intelligence who is able to make ALL the stars in the universe and all the planets thereof... who could create all of this in a week... couldn't create a bit of law enforcement, some nice android therapists to come down and talk to some ill tempered freaking apes... before he pronounced ruinous death on all the pine trees, daisies, kitties, sad little baby elephants looking up at the rain that would never stop in time to save their lives? Am I the only one that thinks all those lives matter? That each and everyone of them mattered? What an awful fucking temper tantrum from a being that powerful!

The New Testament isn't much better in some parts and I think Paul was a pretty nasty piece of work.

My thoughts this morning though.... stemming very much from the Pope this morning and from stuff I almost said to C-chan yesterday... What if the Bible is metaphor.. created by minds genuinely trying to understand the world and the universe... some of them with very good intent ... on forming community, to work together, to bring equality and help to all... what if we didn't have to abandon reason, compassion, or knowledge to find connection in the Bible?

So let's talk about the Crucifixion... in the literal sense... that is such a bad temper tantrum... and so rude... unbelievably rude and disrespectful of human life. So if I imagine myself to be a being capable of creating all that we can see and sense... and then some... I can breath intelligent life into clay. I part oceans with my hands... and I'm so fucking angry at my clay dolls that I'm going to smash them all unless I make myself into a mortal and kill myself, so I can paint them in my blood. That's gross. I think I'm gonna go with Thor instead.

In the historical context of thousand and thousands of people being tortured to death with crucifixion and the great powerful god not doing a damn shit to save any of them... that's even worse. Just... vile.

So... but let's look at it in a more metaphorical sense... Humans are pretty awful. The nature of life itself is pretty awful. Plants suffer when we eat them. Animals suffer more when we eat them. Parents and children suffer when they grow through the phases of life. We say awful things to each other. We gouge and bite and steal and lie and fuck without permission and sulk in our self centered whining death clouds.

Every breath we take means some other life form is going to suffer to keep us living.

It could tear me in half when I really think about it it.

Then we get to the conflicts between groups and if I can't love myself, I sure as fuck don't love that nasty Texas preacher who works to deny me basic rights, the ability to even function like a respectable human being in his state. I hate him. I'd shank him in the dark if I thought I could get away with it.... hate... hate... hate....

And you know what... I'm pretty sure he hates the fuck out of my tranny self too.

Then we get back to the Crucifixion... now imagine the unnameable essence of life becoming life... eating, shitting, having morning wood, yelling at people.. dying in one of the worst ways humans have ever figured out to kill other human beings.... and standing up three days later to offer love and healing... to stretch out his hands, still marked with nail holes, a smile on his face...

We're dirty, yet we live.

And in that place, I can find love for that Texas preacher... I can see myself in him. I can hold out my hand to him. Life is messy and yet we must strive forward.

I reach for the moment when I can live on sunlight and water. When my being is changed by the tools we messy apes are creating and I will harm none. Even then, I will always have been a messy ape. I will have done darkness. My blood carries the line of great sin... of the Inquisition, the Holocaust, and a (10^{10^{10^{100}}} of personal harms done to other life. The concept of the Crucifixion is also in my blood, my history though... the desire to be better, the desire for forgiveness and to forgive, to stand with others and make the world better.  It's really very metaphorical that the undefinable will of life could become us, die by us, and still love us. It's such a deeply meaningful concept... that it is beyond my ability to really express.

It leaves me open to love though. It leaves me in tears, in a feeling of great charity for that man who would go to jail to make sure that I continue to suffer from a condition that I was born with.

So the other day I was whining to my friend Lisa about some wrong I was upset about... so angry with the world... I could find no way to direct my anger that didn't cause harm... in or out... and she was like... "Let it go!"

Which so wasn't possible in that moment.

In order to let go and forgive... the pain has to stop.  After the pain stops, letting go and forgiving is easy peasy.. and I know there have been moments when forgiving and letting go seemed to stop the pain, but really... that's a different topic and I digress.

We are not life all unto ourselves. We are not alone. The root of life stretches from the moment of first will to our scabbed knees in the present.  Life became us, died, and lived still. In the majesty of that, all things are possible. Go and sin no more.

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