Some thoughts on Homophobia and the definition of sin

I was just now thinking…it seems there is a huge virulent reaction to homosexuality in most of conservative/fundamentalist/evangelical christendom.  It is thought to be immoral and sinful to “be homosexual”, and if you act on that orientation, regardless of how chaste and monogamous and full of integrity you might be, you are doubling down on your sin quotient.

Hmmm…let’s consider this:  First of all, for the sake of this discussion, let’s assume for the moment that being homosexual is sinful in and of itself (I do not think it is, btw).  That said, can we grant that there are many many many MANY other sins present on a regular basis in the people who comprise the body of Christ?  I believe even a brief moment of thought will reveal this is true.  And I would furthermore assert that these sins are even present regularly right smack dab in the middle of the congregation on Sunday Mornings during meetings!  Sins of gluttony, gossip, greed, lust, lies, and I don’t really need to go on do I?  THEY.  ARE.  ALMOST.  ALL.  THERE!!

And yet I have heard sermon after sermon which gently and compassionately reaches out to the so called sinner with grace…while at the very same time a virulence and abhorrence of homosexuality is railed out the likes of which is almost shameful in its implications…that perhaps even the precious Blood of Jesus is not enough to save a gay person!  They have to get clean FIRST, and then…just maybe…suspiciously…we may accept them.

Why is this?  Are not all sins of equal moral weight in the eyes of God?  (yes, they are)

Here is my theory:  so many things that are egregious failures of God’s good standard of whole relationship are interior states of being, or thoughts, or hidden attitudes, and not actions.  It is quite possible to live in christian communities looking beautiful and white on the outside, and yet within be a tomb of death.  But “no one knows”, so it is “okay.”

Homosexuality on the other hand, or for that matter being transgender, is something observable, visible, and obvious, and it is also something that can be hidden…either by not talking about things, or living a full life, or engaging in the cross-dressing that a trans-person is forced into when they are policed and othered for dressing as who they truly are.  And thus comes the judgement.

The heart of this approach considers sin to be defined by actions:  wrong acts = sin, and those acts defined by a list that is derived from a selective reading of behaviors spoken of in scripture…in the OT it is a capricious selecting of things from the law that one desires, and in the NT it is usually behaviors that are mentioned in descriptions of what life is like after we have an existential encounter and transformation of our being! 

In truth, sin in the large and most deadly sense is simply separation from God.  Period.  Last word.  When this is understood, one sees that no matter WHAT one does, or refrains from, it does not address the fundamental issue, which is restoration of our relationship with the Ones who made us.  After that relationship is restored, the word for sin changes and means simply “missing the mark”.  Once we are truly adopted and resurrected within with Jesus, we are set free from law…completely free.  If you do not accept that, you need to re-read Romans and both Corinthians and Galatians.  Paul makes some very bold statements about law and spirit and sin.

When one is in the very common error of attributing moral status based on actions, one is in grave error, and I think this is the root of the hatred of homosexuality above all other “sins” (again, it is not a given to me that it is sin)…because it is an easily identified behaviour and one can consider one’s self “sinless” merely by avoiding that behaviour!!

Here is a suggestion:  let’s get our own house in order.  Let’s spend our time and our zeal within ourselves seeking deeper connection with Them, deeper character development, deeper sacrificial attitudes towards all we meet…ok?

Love God.

Love yourself.

Love your neighbor.

Amen.

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This song gets to some of the longings of my heart

Constance, perhaps you could take the time to watch this video…it’s lyrics also apply to me and my situation.  I am soo very lucky, in that my beloved loves me, from the beginning, and now, and to come.

But so many people are outcast from the circle of love and affection by the ways our culture has formed expectations and unspoken rules and allowances, based on specific understandings (or lack thereof) of moral codes, on binary gender expectations that do not even come close to fitting the wide expression of actual physical expression of gender, even down to the DNA…

As you watch, won’t you please resolve to be kind t everyone you meet?

Oh…and here is a clue:  being kind does not mean “hating the sin but loving the sinner”!  That is a nice and neat idea, and yet it is designed for the sake of the one who fancies themself not a sinner…it unconsciously creates a barrier, and regardless of how nice you are then?  You will be condescending, and you will undercut your message, and ultimately fall woefully short of the example of Jesus.

Remember Him?  Yunno, the One who drew so close to sinners He was accused by the conservative religious crowd of His day of being a sinner…and let a prostitute wash His feet with her tears (oh, you sin-haters and sinner lovers…have you ever cried such tears at the feet of Jesus, and then dried them with your hair because you were so grateful for His kindness to you?  Just wonderin’…), the One who ate lunch and dinner and celebrated with sinners everyday.

I know these things to be true…because long ago, when I was still deeply dissociated and yet drawn by Their love for me and thus had said Yes to Them, I was a staunch practitioner of that glib maxim above.  And I recall how finally it dawned on my how haughty I was, how like the man in the temple who was thanking God that he was not like the sinner over across the way who was weeping and howling and crying out for mercy as he beat his chest in agony and desperation…

A kind word to those in need.  Such a small thing really, and yet it is the biggest thing under the sun.

Why Do So Many Folks Hate Transgender People? | The Bilerico Project

Why Do So Many Folks Hate Transgender People? | The Bilerico Project.

 

Constance, I have not pressed this right away, as I am really in a hurting place for reasons that are unrelated to this topic…just aching, longing, missing what never was, and finding it difficult to believe that it will ever be…trying to hold onto Jesus hand and be drawn thru this valley of the shadow…trying to hold onto Mama’s waist, and hold tight as She crashes time and space, and makes a way for me…birth is HARD!

 

But the topic needs to be looked at…posted and reposted so that you can see some of the basic things faced by transgender people.  And, you know what?  Hate of anyone really boils down to these areas.

Think about it.

Love God.

Love yourself.

Love your neighbor.

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We Return To You (song, 1992)

This song is revealing now…I see the cycle, as I would swing down into the trough and the horror of dysphoria would rage in me like a flood.  And then the manifestations of Their comfort, Their mercy, and the wholeness that They would bestow, and my heart would be restored.

In the trough, I wrote songs of repentance and cries for mercy…I thought that I was displeasing Them, or failing Them, or not numbering my days wisely.  While that likely happened some, it is far more the case that I was dis-integrating and desperate.  And on the peak, I was carried by Them, as They healed me and got me ready for the next battle, the next workout and time of war… so I wrote songs of devotion, celebration, exuberance…and lots of songs about the Bride and Bridegroom (a topic I was obsessed with!  More on that later).

This is a trough song.

(Oh…and PS:  the wording is almost straight from the OT, thus the words about His anger, wrath, and the “Thou”s and “Thee”s!)

 

From everlasting to everlasting, Thou art God.
Days pass like flowers fading in darkness but You remain.

Your Holiness unchanging, Your purging fire consuming all our ways,
because our fading flowers are countless wasted hours cast away.

Chorus:

We’ve been consumed by Thine anger!
We’ve been dismayed by Thy wrath!
Our secret sin is revealed in Thy Presence,
we have worshipped the works of our hands!

Oh Lord, we cry out to You for forgiveness!
Oh Lord, we cry out to You for Your grace.
Oh Lord, we ask that You would show us Your mercy!
Return to us, as we return to You.

Teach us to number each day You give us to worship Thee,
That we can give You hearts full of wisdom, and Your ways.

Restore us in the morning and let Your Loving-Kindness be our bread!
Let mercy fall upon us like dew from heaven’s storehouse…make us glad!

Chorus

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More Than I Have Known You (a song of desperate longing, 1995)

This song is from my life book, and specifically my life passage:  Philippians 3:8-12 (do you have a life book and/or passage?  Something to think on).  I remember that the nights were getting worse…nearly unbearable, and my poor beloved who suffered beside me, holding me as I shook and trembled and cried and suffered in the dark.

I remember getting up around 2 AM one morning just a few weeks after the first of the year.  The thought of enduring another year towered over me like King Kong over Faye Wray!  Suicide was not an option, as it is so unfair to the ones left behind, and it is the ultimate self-oriented act…but going on was not an option either.

I longed to just simply “never-have-been”…because it was as if I wasn’t there anyway, and yet horribly and terribly aware and having being…rough.

I got out my guitar, and began to strum softly in my favorite chords, and just hum…and a lil melody bubbled up inside, and the chord changes manifested themselves to me, and then I spontaneously started singing these words…but I actually believe that Lady Grace sang them for me, for I was without mouth, without tongue, and screaming…

It got me thru.  They are enough…always, always enough.

(I am crying as I recall, in total and complete gratefulness)

When my life is shaken in the storm,
You are there…and You draw me near You.
In Your Arms my heart is made secure,
as You kiss my tears and call me Your own.

Chorus:

I want to know You, I want to know You!
Deep in my heart, Lord…I want to know You!
I want to know You, I want to know You!
More than I have known you Lord…I want to know You.

When the dark night presses in on me,
You are there, You’re shining so brightly.
Then Your sweet love brings the dawn again,
and my heart is filled with only one cry…

Chorus

So I come and kneel at Calvary.
You are there, and You draw me near You.
Then Your Blood, Your River washes me,
Jesus, I surrender my life to You

Chorus

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Hear, Oh Lord (Song from 1990)

Another devotional chorus from years ago…as I read them now I understand so much better that dark desperate despair that I had to battle constantly…and I am also more impressed than ever by the mercies and faithfulness of our God!  Thank You, again and again and again!!!  🙂

Hear, Oh Lord and answer me!  For I am poor and needy.
Guard my life oh so close to Thee, for I am devoted to You.

Chorus:

You are my God (3x)

Save Your servant who trusts in You!  Let me drink deep of Your Mercy.
I cry out to You all night long!  Oh Father I must have You!

Chorus

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Wasted For You (worship chorus 1995)

(Back in 1995, I was a full time worship leader for the body of believers that I was attending…the place where I taught, led, and tried best I could to serve. This is a chorus I wrote in those days, to try to indicate a total resolve to follow Jesus where He led, regardless of the cost or place.

Little did I know that the journey would lead here!! Honestly, back then if someone had told me the road would lead to a discovery that I was a transgender person, I would have thought they were crazy! See, I was like most people…I thought that being transgender meant being sexually interested in dressing as a woman and having homosexual activity with another man.

I was totally ignorant, but in my own “righteousness” and view of anyone different, I automatically assumed that A: they were “weird” and B: they were sinful. Oh, and of course I “loved” them…Hah!

SO much has changed, and Jesus and Grace did indeed take me up on my bold words. I never knew how much pain and wrenching would be involved in such a revelation as They brought…and I also could not even imagine the liberty and healing that has resulted.

The good fruits in me are wonderful, and they in essence build my trust, to issue another bold proclamation to surrender even more…and that is scary, because the last one was so difficult, that the thought of something else like that makes me quail!

But here is the truth: I would rather die running towards Them instead of running away.tumblr_n166cyoeGy1qa0o0qo1_1280

I hope that the next phase involves opportunities to tell people about the real People I know…the real Father and Jesus and Mama…the tender and loving and humorous and creative and accepting and teaching and transforming Beings that They have been for me.

Constance…please, if you are not used to reading about God, or talking about who they are, or if you have past wounds, bad experiences or pollutions from people who took Their Name in vain, give what I have to say about Them a chance.

I assure you: if They accept the likes of me, they will accept anybody!!)tumblr_mx9wozWlBo1qjr7k7o1_500

There’s a cry in my spirit, an unquenchable flame.
I’ve been captured by Jesus, and I will never be the same!
I’ve been branded forever. I’ve been cut to the core.
By the Lion of Judah, shaken by His Mighty Roar!

So I will spend every moment, and I will waste all my wealth,
Jesus, come break me open, and pour me out for Yourself.
For I have burned all my bridges. I’m past the point of no return…
Jesus, let me be, yielded totally, and wasted for You.

Descant: I want to be wasted for you Lord (repeat)tumblr_myrya9xwTw1sv2qqoo1_500

Song for the Prodigals: Back in Your Love

When the dark night surrounds me, and I can’t find my way thru
Across the breakers like a beacon–You call my name and bring me back to You.
In the raging storm You calm me, with a pure love like I never knew,
Like a tree, You give me shelter, You comfort me and bring me back to You

Chorus
Back to Your Love, Back to Your Light
Back to Your arms, You make it all right!
Back in Your Love, Back in Your Light,
Back in Your arms, You make it all right
when I come back to you.

In the heart ache, in the sorrow, it seems like there ain’t nothin true,
And I can’t even face tomorrow, but there ain’t nothin else to do.
That’s when Your sweet sweet love comes tumbling down, tumbling down,
to resurrect me from the tomb
You light the flames of Holy Passion, and then You draw me ever back to You.  (Chorus)

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Coming Back Home (A country lament, sung waltz-style. Summer 1997)

(written while studying the parable of the prodigal son…we are all that prodigal, profligately wasteful.  But the worst thing is that some end up being the older brother…prideful and haughty and stingy with love and grace and forgiveness.

And who would I aspire to be like?  The one heart here that is tender and kind and generous.)

 

I’ve been on the road such a dusty long time,
felt the heat of the sun fill my head with cold chimes.
And freedom ain’t all that its’s cracked up to be,
cuz Your tough tender heart’s far away, far from me.

And I’m longing to see You, and look in Your face,
and listen to Your laughter filling my lonely place.
But I’m on my own now, so I howl at the moon,
and remember when You told me ’bout the dish and the spoon.

I’ve made lotsa money, but not many friends.
It’s a hard thing to figure–where one starts and one ends.
The wind blows so lonesome thru a heart I thought free,
and it rattles the memories of You loving me.

So I cling to the hope of Your welcome to me,
and I’d rather be Your slave than be lost but free!
So Master…no…Father…I surrender to You,
and I’m coming back home, I surrender to you.tumblr_n51bgpQYha1r2zs3eo1_500

 

 

The Wings of His Desire (A song, written in 1997 for a famous friend)

Well I see that you been walkin cuz that Cadillac broke down
But the desert won’t surrender for a dollar or a crown,
And the crowd is back the road a-piece just a-waitin for a ride, while you are
Fixing your eyes on the sky
lookin for that fiery chariot ride
to come and take you sailin’ on the wings of His desire.

The glitter and the grime have blurred the boundaries of truth
In that ghost town full of souls who search for fountains full of youth,
And the flashback memories of the branding iron’s searing sneer
Haunt your spirit like a curse
from a Pharisee’s gold-lined purse, and your heart is
Longing for the wings of His desire.

Hey Friend! Don’t you realise that He held you up to them, like a mirror!
Yeah, it’s you they stoned but it’s them they hate!
The stench of their hypocrisy just chokes their life away…

Hey Friend! Don’t you realise that He holds you in His Arms, you are His child!
Yeah it’s you that He was crucified for and ever does the sweet perfume
of His love fill the air you breathe…

So remember this sage fool’s advice as your pilgrimage unfolds
Let down your hair, Rapunzel! Cast away that pot of fool’s gold!
For angels cannot suffer, but they can’t taste of love’s sweet wine, and it is
Better that you have your being, spun out like a precious tapestry
Suspended on the wings of His desire.

Hey Friend! Lift up your eyes again and let the wind blow back your hair
Take courage once again for the stones they throw in a twinkling will
become the bricks of His steadfast love for you…
And the songs of praise shall rise again like a golden phoenix from the flame
And the prophet’s mantle will again rest on your shoulders like His Name
And it is better that you have your being, sung like a precious melody
And it is better that you have your being, sung like a precious melody
And sheltered by the wings of His desire.

Summer 1997

Oregon

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What I Like

I like good books
under a snuggly blanket
while the rain scritches
at the gutters and windows.

I like preparing fresh food
chop by pile, and then
going to heaven on the aromas
and dance as they come together
into a dish of delicious love.

I like singing
on my bike
while I ride
through the mountains
as trees sway
and rivers prance
and wind roars
in my heart
while the hawk
glides above all.

I like writing,
and writing poetry
especially.

I like talking with people
about their hearts.

I like saying that
just right word
of kind encouragement,
and then seeing someone
do the impossible.

I like studying out new insights.

I like spending time
with Mama and
feeling Her love for me
where once I felt
only lonely shame.

I like Jesus
and His funny jokes
and sometimes capering ways.
And that He cries.

I like romance movies
where it all ends like it’s supposed to
but surprises me anyway.

I like teaching people
about wine, and watching them
wake up to a
whole new world.

I like hearing my kids
tell their thoughts and
being taught by
their fresh perspective.

I like making music
and listening to music.

I like having
a whole bunch of people over
and making a huge feast for them,
insisting they be free
to take joy in the food and drink
and fellowship.

I like being kind
and being a blessing.

I like driving
in the flow.

I like shopping
all day
with my oldest daughter
and then getting great food
and chattering together about
our awesome bargains
and red hot new look!

I like being with my baby,
me small and safe
in her loving arms
while we
talk the blackness
away.

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Charissa is a sloppy happy teary mess o’ praise after watching Hezekiah Walker New Video “Every Praise” – YouTube

Constance…when I hear my blessed Mama living in the music of Her children as they sing, I burst into tears…literally every time.  When Precious Jesus is inhabiting the praise of His peoples, I cannot help the tears of joy that simply jump out of my heart and stream tangible baptisms of gratitude, and flowing fountains of inexpressible and unutterable thankfulness that The Lord has had mercy on me, this broken and alienated stranger in a strange land.

Even as a small child, this happened to me…and then I was ashamed, because boys don’t cry.  I always cried!!

Oh, it just feels sooo good to let my heart overflow and offer Him my own soul’s inner waters out from my eyes.

It doesn’t happen to me everytime I hear a worship song, or every time I hear a hymn, or sing even…but there are those times…if you were lucky enough to be in a church that wasn’t so freaking oppressive that Mama simply looked on from a distance, silently, Her incredible generous and compassionate essence quenched by the soul-stealing stench of pride and haughtiness…then you know that moment I am talking about.  Something just…changes!  The ceilings are gone…the floors are gone…horizons expand, and suddenly you know…you. know. That God is alive, and love.  That you are alive and loved.

As a small child, as a teen, and as a young adult, these times would happen, and I would hide myself away in Them, snuggled down my tearful face buried deep in Their side, and I would breathe my thankful utterances that in this awful and desolate land that I was sentenced to dwell in until I died, through no request or doing of my own was I born and then born a prisoner…I would tell them…Oh Lovely Lovely Shepherd (for that is who I talked to then, to Jesus the Good Shepherd who left the 99 and came to get me…Jesus the compassionate who had mercy on the prostitute caught in the act of adultery…Jesus the Healer who felt the touch of faith’s heart at the hem of His garment in the throng of thousands of grabby greedy desperate hands)…Oh Wondrous Shepherd of my soul…if I can have my sentence of life in prison punctuated and pierced by these moments of furlough and reprieve, however brief…then I will follow You always.  I promise and do so choose forever, come what may.

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And then I would often weep all night long…literally…draining out the sorrow, the self-loathing and the shame and despite for my awful awful self…I would pour out my thankfulness that even to a wretch like me They would draw nigh and commune with me…even humble Themselves to TOUCH me!

And They were faithful to be there…

And They were faithful to continually work over me, labor over me, in the womb of my imprisonment and dysphoria to ready me for birth…and when labor began They went silent, for the pangs and contractions had to be strong, had to be ultimate, had to take me past my limits.  Well, they did that, and I came home finally, came out finally to live and be born…

and the moments resumed, commenced once again.

Now?  Oh. My. God.  Mama took me under Her wing, and has been teaching me, Her tongue a good Theme.

So I would ask you to give the vid a shot, for at minimum you can hear the soundtrack that played while I bawled in utter thankfulness and total gratitude for life, for Life.

And at the maximum?  Have some tissues on the by!

Love and Grace be unto you in the richest most lavish extreme…

Charissa Grace the Grateful Girl forevertumblr_n4mf72qUM41rk1cbbo1_1280

Hezekiah Walker New Video “Every Praise” – YouTube.

On Notice!

Let the powers know
that I am being found,
am finding myself
and I am glad, and scared,
and soaring to depths, heights
hawking my way
through chasms and
slamming into depths and crevasses and
then piercing velvet dark
frosty air, rising, rising,
an eagle golden and free.

Let the Tetrarch know
that I will step forward
in grace and upon grace
a wounded-healer to be.57dcca2a25c7abbce57b0b42f3e53cd9And let the Prideful Patrons and
Practitioneers of Patriarchy
be put on notice:
If the sword of the healing-wounder
should ever bless my grasp
with its blue-bejewelled hilt and
silver redemptive sharp blade,
I will wield it with
remorseless pity, and soft relentlessness!
I will the rivers and seas follow,
to overcome by giving way.tumblr_n3004aNe8v1qllucco1_1280

And let the humble hear,
let the lost perk up to the echoes
of turtledoves and
the heralds of hummingbirds
and the buzzing of many drowzy
busy bees that Mama has
opened Her hives, and
honey pours once again
to all those
famished and forlorn.Von

When Rain Runs Backwards

How can I find draught
when rain runs backwards,
rivers reverse and earth swallows up all…
waters, grains and grits?
In a topsy-turbulant epoch,
chained to hate and fear
I grow parched, thin
and desperate for drink.

Mama stands tall,
open and frank and
waiting for me.
But courage fails,
fears follow and
dog me knackered
And so I thirst, I thirst…

until driven I
fly to Her face,
and flit low to
Her Gentle Power
and there I drink
till I am sated and renewed…
and fly fly fly
safe…whew!

It is only then
that I realize that
She drank from me as I from Her,
and my fear,
my pain and sorrow
has been drained and I am
full of the freedom of never-more!

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Infection Crucinfection (Easter 1980)

{I have been contemplative over the difference of this Easter compared to any other one in my entire life.  It has me looking back, at old poems, old journals, etc.  Thus the spate of poems 3 decades old.

I have changed a lot, and I think that is good.  I think my poems are better now, too…Terraces, right??

This poem was the first poem about Easter for me.}

 

He sat in the straw
mute as a rock
crudely undone.

Ranker than swine
coarse to our nails
we swung to our job.

Infected with Truth
He hung in the dust
Drenched to His Skin,
Bleached to His Bones.

Then He went
all the way
coming to
common terms
with loss as
Blind as Wind.

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Veils and Terraces

I put up veils that day…in the midst of the screaming panicked anger.
In the grip of vile and hateful words (they hit me like icicles and melted).
I put up veils, to cover landslide avalanches words started inside me.

I was small, 6.  I was alone, now, lost amidst the melting mountain of self
that cascades like Mississippis of mud, of dirt, of noisy horror and
buzzard squawks in my fevered mind.

On that precipice I teetered, feeling the depths draw and mock me
feeling the pressure of the wind and heat from adults lashing and railing
(in the name of love).

I fled dimly, frenzy-fueled and fearful (forever, I thought)
and hastily found in the lonely nothing my shame, my self-loathing
and my razor thoughts, and wove veils.

Concealing the rift, the chasm.  Covering the evidence
that I was a monster, deviant, and worse…
covering the life of pretense…

Imagine my shock, these days, as veils are torn asunder by laughter
as coverings are ripped away by joyous contentment, revealing
where there were only chasms, there are now terraces!

I am far larger than I ever was, and veiled only in terraces.

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Thank You in the Pain (December, 1979)

O Boundless One, in Whom Wisdom doth dwell
You calmly exercise Your purging blade.
One cut, and I scream Cease! This pain is hell,
But You heed not this reckless renegade.

Strife finds the wounded sparrow of my soul,
and stalks it without quarter through the heat,
in dark-fire trials of purgation patrol
strife captures its cut quarry in deceit.

And then You demand thanks in all the hurt!
With that command my sparrow falls from flight!
Yet only in its fall am I alert
to the reasons for praising Your foresight.

Thank You for the pain’s sweet overthrow,
a sparrow cannot fall and you not know.

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Gifts you give yourself

Forgiveness, towery and meritorius
when viewed from the lowly valleys and dales
of hard hurt and wounded ways
stands, stentorian and stark and stately.
To approach such lofty heights from there
seems tough, seems stubbornly sacrificial,
and requires a great provisioning
of the heart’s overflow into Mercy’s Rivers.

Acceptance twins from the next ridge over,
and it seems to wounded eyes
that these noble and lofty houses
aspire to heaven,
aspire to grandiose airy grounds
to weed out the weak-willed and shuffling supplicants,
the plodding and pitiful pilgrims
who failed to fully count the cost.

And yet if one but persists and never lets go
their grip on the Garment’s Hem
they will themselves be drawn up and sunder,
like doves mounting up in the velvet dawn
And discover comely cottage, cozy cabin,
home at last and free,
And finally receiving
the gifts you give yourself.

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Ode to Self-Righteousness

They lurked,
in lurid shadows, hurt,
angry inflamed
by evil righteousness
steeped in self
then drunk like
Dr Jekyll’s elixir.

The music,
light and beauteous
favor become sound
drifted, threaded
in and out and around to
remind them,
tantalize them,
sadly to torture them
with the dreary ugliness
of their inner bed o nails.

“Kill!  Destroy them!
Our Lord demands it!”
they shrieked
imagining they were
christian soldiers following
a wrathful righteous
incensed king returned.
But they didn’t know
they had stapled
His Wondrous Face
onto the caustic and rotten
golem of their own design,
they couldn’t see through
the veils of fear

That the Joyous One
was swirling, dancing,
and laughing with
gracious glance in the midst
of those lost, those abandoned,
those wounded…
…those forever finally found
and running free.

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Flawless Trans Women Carmen Carrera and Laverne Cox Respond Flawlessly To Katie Couric’s Invasive Questions | Autostraddle

I am sharing this post, and hope that you would click thru to see the story and video.  It is a fabulous example first of all of how easily and literally without awareness it is for cis-gendered people to do things to transgender people which they would never ever even think to do to cis-gendered people.

Secondly, it is also a great example of how to handle things with Grace and Kindness…far too often I find that we are so very sensitive and hyper aware of any slight, no matter how small.  It seems in our culture today that regardless of gender, sexuality, political persuasion, or religion we are by and large eager to take offense and cannot wait to grab those arrows of offense and stab our own selves with them!  It is is if we want to be infected with that poison, and then we turn around and start trying to infect others

No wonder that zombie movies and shows are so popular now…they are a metaphor for a process in our time by which it seems that we make ourselves and one another into spiritual zombies, rampaging about biting and devouring one another.

Let’s all just stop!  Step back.  Take a breath…and then simply

be kind…be merciful…be full of grace.

kindness-wave

Imagine…no not a world where there is no heaven, or religion, or any of the drivel that John Lennon sang about, for that very philosophy was already tried by the communists of Russia and Stalin’s regime, to the tune of nearly 100,000,000 deaths…that same philosophy was adhered to by the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia…

No…imagine a world where each person actively sought to just be kind…to just show mercy…to just be full of grace…

What is required?  Do justly, love mercy, walk humbly, and love your neighbor as yourself.

See these two amazing human beings, and glean…maybe you too will be inspired as was I to strive to be a kinder and more gentle person.

Blessings,

Charissa

Flawless Trans Women Carmen Carrera and Laverne Cox Respond Flawlessly To Katie Couric’s Invasive Questions | Autostraddle.