Author: Pat Liberty

This Letter was sent to Vice President Mike Pence on September 16, 2020

Vice President Pence:

I am writing to protest your misuse of Scripture during your acceptance speech at the Republican National Convention. ( you can read his entire speech by following this link: https://www.cnn.com/2020/08/26/politics/mike-pence-speech-transcript/index.html )

As a Christian I am appalled at your use of Hebrews 12:1-2 and 2 Corinthians 3:17. It is an unconscionable misuse of Sacred Text for political purposes and it is wrong. Referring to Old Glory (the American flag) as a substitute for Jesus is wrong. The nod toward christian nationalism is an affront to the Christian faith.

I am an ordained minister and a life-long student of Scripture. The passage from Hebrews 12:1-2 (New Revised Standard Version—NRSV) reads:

            “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.”

It is Jesus who is the perfecter of our faith and we look to Him and not to “Old Glory and all she represents.” We fix our eyes on God and on the living truth found in Jesus, not on “this land of heroes.” We fix our eyes on the words and teachings of Jesus. He alone is the perfecter of our faith and is not to be co-opted as a tool of nationalistic “freedom.”

Your misquoting of 2 Corinthians of 3:17 adds an additional reference to nationalism that further distorts the truth of Scripture. The verse from the NRSV reads:

            “Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.”

Your slight twist skews the meaning of the verse. The freedom we enjoy is from the Spirit of the Lord. It is a spirit of humility, grace and faith. It is not a freedom to do as we please. It is not a

freedom that has no base in the truth of who Jesus Christ is. It is not a freedom that wins through “might makes right.”  The true freedom that is ours, as Christians, is found in Jesus Christ and has nothing to do with nationalism.

Jesus was hung on the cross because of his refusal to collude with Roman occupation and the nationalism it represented. We, who seek to live after the ways of Jesus, refuse to collude in the ways of christian nationalism. We refuse to collude with the notion that “might makes right.” We refuse to collude with the ongoing exploitation of the poor. We refuse to collude with the ongoing degradation of the environment for the sake of corporations that exploit their workers. Your notion of “freedom” and your willingness to substitute “Old Glory” for Jesus shows the lengths to which you will go for the sake of your political agenda.

In the full authority of my office as a duly ordained Christian pastor, I speak truth to your misuse of scripture to gain re-election. I cannot change your political agenda, as distasteful as I find it, but I do protest your misuse of Sacred Scripture in furthering that end.

In faithfulness to the Gospel I remain,

Rev. Patricia L. Liberty

As we gathered (at appropriate social distance) for the traditional end of summer, there are reasons to remember that the Labor Day holiday is about more than burgers and beer.  

The growth of the labor movement and the evolution of unions in the late 1800’s were predecessors of the holiday known as Labor Day. A series of strikes and disasters galvanized the labor movement and strengthened the move for equality, workers’ rights and better working conditions.

There were several riots and strikes worth noting:

• The Haymarket Riot in Chicago in 1886. It was part of a national May Day rally that was led primarily by immigrant workers. What began as a peaceful demonstration ended in a riot when someone threw a bomb at police. Eight people died.
• The Pullman Strike, May-July 1894. Rail workers went on strike to protest wage cuts and firing of Union representatives. The Federal Government dispatched troops to Chicago. Ultimately what began as a peaceful protest ended in a riot.  During the strike there was a widespread railroad strike and boycott. As a result rail travel was all but stopped. It was the first time a government injunction was used to break up a strike.
• The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire in New York in 1911. Forty-five workers died when a fire broke out in the factory. Exits were locked, fire escapes were inadequate and there was no reasonable means of egress for the hundreds of immigrant women working 12 hour shifts, 7 days a week for $15.00 a week. The owners, Max Blanc and Isaac Harris ultimately reimbursed the families of the victims $75.00. They received $400 for each victim from the insurance company. Despite the devastating fire, sprinklers were not installed. The business partners had twice torched the building for insurance money and they wanted to make sure they had the option to do so again. They were among the worst in how they treated their workers.
• The Ludlow Massacre, 1914. Coal miners in Colorado protested for better wages, shorter hours and better working conditions. The striking miners and their families erected a tent city near the strike site, which allowed them to get out of the company owned town. In April 1914 the Colorado National Guard and the Colorado Fuel and Iron Company guards attacked the tent colony with machine guns and fire setters. Approximately 21 people died. Other skirmishes with law enforcement personnel led Historian Thomas G. Andrews to call this the deadliest strike in the history of the United States.

There were many more strikes in smaller factories scattered around the country.  What they all had in common was that workers demanded safe working conditions, humane hours, fair wages, workers compensation for injuries sustained on the job and vacation time.   

Out of this push for organized labor, union representation emerged as the protection for most factory workers. Labor Day, as a legal holiday began on June 28, 1894, though many states passed Labor Day laws for celebration prior to that.

 There are still workers fighting for basic rights: the right to be paid fairly for a day’s work, access to affordable benefits and more. Companies like Walmart, one of the largest retailers in the United States with owners worth billions of dollars, refuse to provide benefits to their employees. They give their employees just enough hours each week so they do not qualify for benefits. Because they are low wage workers they qualify for food stamps and Medicaid. This means that “We the People” are ultimately underwriting the massive profits of companies like Walmart. Other retailers have followed suit. It is perfectly legal, but it is far from moral or ethical.

Yet, during this pandemic, workers such as these (not the CEO’s making millions) are saving the day. Low wage workers show up and check out our groceries, clean hospital rooms, collect garbage, make our pizzas and sell us our wine and beer. Behind the scenes, truckers, warehouse workers, farmers and countless others do their best to assure the food supply remains intact (despite the fact that some people feel the need to hoard and create shortages).   

Laborers are and always have been the backbone of our country. They are the heart of the middle class and represent the largest segment of our society. In the wake of the pandemic, however, more and more middle class workers are falling into the category of the working poor. The ones we depend on the most are the ones who are treated the worst.

Unions are being undermined by the occupant and his cohort in order to favor big business. Corporate profits are at an all-time high, as reflected in the artificially inflated Stock Market. Workers’ rights and benefits are being eroded at an alarming rate. What we can all do is advocate for workers’ rights and shop where workers are treated well. This requires us to be informed consumers.    

Though Labor Day has passed, let this week be a reminder to thank the essential workers on whom we depend for our daily well-being.   

If we wonder how it is that black men continue to be shot at an alarming rate throughout the country, we need look no further than the intertwined history of American policing and white supremacy.

As far back as the period of Reconstruction following the civil war, blacks were arrested for wanting to vote, negotiate labor contracts or exercise their political and social rights. According to historian Khalil Muhammed, working for white landowners was the only thing that was not criminalized. Further, black labor was sold to private contractors and blacks who resisted were arrested.  As a result, blacks were arrested at disproportionately higher rates than whites for simply trying to assert what had been promised them during Reconstruction. The criminal justice system emerged during this time and racial bias was woven into the warp and woof of policing. It served to keep blacks in subordinate roles so they could be exploited in various labor markets.

In the beginning of the 20th century when blacks were migrating north in record numbers, the notion of criminalization followed. Blacks were criminalized at far higher rates than their white counterparts.  As census taking emerged as a metric for monitoring the population, the data bore out the fact that blacks had higher rates of criminalization. It is important to remember that their “offenses” were simply an attempt to exercise the freedom given them with the abolition of slavery. The consolidation of crime statistics brought about by the census fed arguments for diminished equal citizenship, segregation and unequal distribution of goods and services.

During prohibition, boot legging operations and speakeasies were disproportionately located in black communities (even if they were run by whites). This further reinforced the notion that black communities were hot beds of crime.

When the NAACP was founded in 1910, tracking data on lynching in the north was a priority. It resulted in increased attention to police violence. The first race riots took place in East St. Louis in the 1920’s. Riots followed in Philadelphia and Chicago. The first Blue Ribbon Commission in Chicago found that when police had the chance to protect blacks from white mob violence, they chose to either aid or abet the white mobs and disarm and/or arrest blacks. The 1922 report showed that police systematically engaged in racial bias. The recommendations of the report were largely ignored.

This scenario of race riots, investigations and reports had similar findings in Harlem and other cities around the country. The Harlem report was shelved before it was ever made public. Finally, a black newspaper called the Amsterdam published it.

As late as the l940s the NAACP tracked lynching data; many of the reported lynchings involved police officers or police accomplices who aided and abetted in various ways. In a paper titled, “Living Histories of White Supremacist Policing, Towards Transformative Justice,” the history of selective mobilization of police resources was traced and correlations were made with white supremacists in state and non- state actors. Such under-policing shielded white supremacist officers from closer scrutiny and sanctions. Make no mistake; police officers were involved in the denial of basic human rights to blacks.

Under the presidency of George W. Bush the FBI published a study on white supremacist infiltration of law enforcement. The 2006 report, a portion of which has been declassified, stated the “KKK is notable among white supremacist groups for historically having found support in many communities which often translated into ties to local law enforcement. Although the First Amendment’s freedom of association provision protects an individual’s right to join white supremacist groups for purposes of lawful activity, the government can limit the employment opportunities of group members who hold sensitive public sector jobs, including jobs within law enforcement, when their membership would interfere with their duties.”

According to The Intercept, a 2009 intelligence study by the Department of Homeland Security, it was concluded that the greatest danger came from small terrorist cells embracing violent right wing extremist ideology. When the study was released within the Department of Homeland Security the pushback was immediate and severe. It resulted in the dismantling of the one unit that investigated this growing phenomenon in law enforcement.

In 2015 a classified FBI counter terrorism policy guide stated that “domestic terrorism investigations focus on…extremists and often have links to law enforcement.” White supremacists actively seek membership in law enforcement as “ghost skins.” The term is used to refer to those who avoid overt displays of their beliefs in order to blend into society and covertly advance white supremacist beliefs.

Still, each time a black man is shot an investigation or study is undertaken. As we see again and again it brings no systemic change. While individual police officers who commit these offenses need to be held to account, these scattered prosecutions will do nothing to bring about change in police culture.

This is not to say that all police officers are white supremacists. That is NOT the case. All police officers, however, DO exist in a culture of white supremacy within the police department. It is a bias that is as invisible as the air they breathe. They are not conscious of the cultural bias (at least most of them) but this makes it no less influential in the way they discharge their duties.

What is needed is no less than a wholesale culture shift in police work. Separating the intertwined roots of American policing and white supremacy is no small feat. It is, however, absolutely necessary for police to stop murdering black men.

Ennui: a feeling of listlessness and dissatisfaction arising from a lack of occupation or enrichment.

After the better part of four months being cooped up in whatever place we call home, it’s understandable that we are a little bored. We also may be more than a little frustrated and tired of this seemingly endless pandemic.  Unfortunately, it seems the virus is not tired of the human race, so the end is not yet in sight.

Increased isolation means relationships with family and friends are disordered. There is decreased physical contact as we are socially distanced and unable to hug. Work routines, if they exist, are changed. Participation in communities that give life meaning is drastically changed or non-existent. In short, many of the ways in which we find meaning are disrupted.

We have been in crisis mode for months, and the crisis is not yet over. Tara Haelle calls it exhaustion of our surge capacity. She writes, “Surge capacity is a collection of adaptive systems-mental and physical- that humans draw on for short-term survival in acutely stressful situations, such as natural disasters.” While recovery from such crises is often a long term proposition, the actual survival skills piece is relatively short term. When a crisis plods on and morphs along the way, our capacity to cope is diminished. Feeling more brittle, having less energy, losing focus more easily and difficulty getting motivated are all indicators that our surge capacity is diminishing. We can be in crisis mode for only so long.

Given our national obsession with productivity and accomplishing something on a daily basis, having routines disrupted is far more than what it seems on the surface. It’s a recipe for deep ennui. Questioning our purpose, wondering what our value is and feeling not quite depressed and not quite anxious is the classic definition of ennui. It’s more than boredom. There’s a deep psychological and spiritual component to it.

Being in the midst of global crisis for months is a bit like being cast adrift in a foreign sea with an inadequate boat and no life jackets. We are so used to being in control, or at least deluding ourselves into thinking we are, that when something totally beyond the reaches of our problem solving, productivity and efficiency lingers for months, it is unsettling to say the least.

There is no shortage of suggestions for how to cope. Get outside every day. Make a list. Set small, achievable goals. Cut yourself some slack. It’s all good advice, but it’s a bit like putting a band aid on a compound fracture.

There is an essential truth we need to reclaim. We are more than our accomplishments (just like we are more than our failures). We are more than what we produce. We are worth more than our problem solving and efficiency. Our essential value as human beings is not something we can create on our own, it rests beyond us. A basic premise of the Judeo-Christian tradition is that we are created in the image of the divine. We live in God and God lives in us. We are partners with God in ushering in God’s realm. Our purpose and meaning as human beings rests in the holy partnership we share with the divine.

This foundation makes an ever expanding world view possible. It removes us from the rat race of doing and accomplishing and plants us in the realm of being. It also has the potential to transform every act of kindness, every deed of mercy, every human interaction (no matter how small) into a radical act of love that has the potential to change the world. It is a perspective that can undergird these changing times with deeper meaning that rests on an entirely different foundation than what the world values.

Sure, it may help to go for a walk, especially if you take in the beauty that is around you. It may be a spectacular sunset. It may be a weed pushing up through a crack in the sidewalk. Both are reminders that we are part of something that is holy and amazing. We get to participate in this grand revolution of love and kindness where our value is determined by what is beyond us, yet as close as our breath.

Sometimes things have been the way they are for so long we think that is the way it is supposed to be. In the last fifty years these places have suffered from war, unrest and military violence. The last century was the most war torn and violent in all recorded human history.  The Society of International Law in London states that during the last four thousand years only 268 have been free of war.

Sometimes things have been the way they are for so long we think that is the way it is supposed to be.

War, unrest, and violence: tens of millions of lives sacrificed on the altar of human greed, political and religious strife and overall failure of human kind to find a better way.

But our human experience to the contrary notwithstanding, it is not the way it is supposed to be.  War may be the norm, but it is not God’s design.  Scripture is filled with rich images of peace, which is more than the absence of war. It is about deep well-being, or shalom. Though the promise of peace seems remote most of the time it still reaches to us in a place of deep yearning, like water washing over parched earth.

One of my favorite images of peace from the Bible is from Isaiah 2. It is a reference to God’s people streaming uphill…and there will be peace. It’s a reminder that peace is an uphill journey. It comes when we are more committed to the ways of peace than the ways of just about everything else. That’s what makes it uphill.

As in Isaiah’s time, our mountains of nationalism and economic security are higher than the mountain of faith. It’s called idolatry. If you ever wondered why prophets were not usually welcome in their home towns, this gives you a clue.

Another thing about the way of peace is that it often starts with a solo voice. The way of peace often begins with one person who speaks truth to power, one person who journeys uphill again and again.

We are so often caught in powerlessness, thinking that our little actions will not make a difference, and thinking or perhaps fearing either irrelevance or failure, what is ours to do we do not do.  Isaiah’s witness is to the power of one and that becomes more than one. As the old folk song goes, “two and two and fifty make a million.”

Margaret Mead said it best, “Never doubt that a small, committed group of people can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”

The uphill journey does not ask if one person can really make a difference, it stands as a witness that leaving things undone is a resignation to despair. By speaking truth to power, we refuse to collude with evil and insanity. Breaking silence is one of the most powerful things people do. It challenges the assumption of consensus.

Peace is an uphill journey that we choose to make, or not make, every day.  A deep commitment to peace means we live out individually what is needed collectively.  We stream uphill, even if we are the only ones.

It’s not about whether or not we change the world, it’s about whether or not we are transformed, it’s up to God what happens after that.  Thich Nat Hahn said it best:  There is not a way to peace, peace is the way.

It begins with what we do or fail to do every day. Peace in the world depends on peace in the country, which depends on peace in the community, which depends on peace in our homes, which depends on peace in our hearts.  That is the uphill journey.  We make it again and again.

The myth of Sisyphus is not simply a statement that life is absurd, but rather that meaning is to be found in the journey up the hill each time, not in the hope that this time we shed the rock forever.

Each time we venture uphill we shed a bit more of the violence that is as much a part of our world as air.  Each journey up the hill yields instruction and we learn a little more of the things that make for peace in our hearts, homes, communities and world.

When all is said and done, what will people say was your purpose in life? Usually the comments are about being a good person, and loving your family. But will they say of us that we loved the poor, spoke up for justice and peace, took risks for the sake of the Gospel?

We need not look far to find the causes for conflict.  We are in the midst of a global pandemic, hundreds of thousands of people are dying, the jobless and poverty rates are soaring. Suicide rates are on the rise. Fewer and fewer Americans can afford health insurance. More and more people are food insecure and it doesn’t show signs of changing for the better any time soon.

And still, the rich are getting richer. CEO’s earn at least 400 times the pay of the average worker. What is true here is played out in countless countries around the world, proving that there is not enough for everyone’s greed but there is enough for everyone’s need.

Just because things have been the way they are for so long doesn’t mean it’s the way they are supposed to be.  Peace is the promise, peace is the journey, peace is the goal, and peace is the work.

If this year were a beverage, it would be a colonoscopy prep. The saying isn’t original to me, but it sums up this year pretty well.  This year was already behind the eight ball because the occupant is slowly destroying our country while pandering to his cronies. Adding a global pandemic and the cascade of related crises creates burdens that everyone feels to some extent. I could create a list that would fill this entire page.

Instead, I encourage you to make your own list. Take a moment and consider how your life is impacted by everything related to the pandemic. List what is uncertain, what worries you, your concern for your family, financial worries and don’t forget the global concerns that no doubt will continue to impact us all. Take some time and write a list. Review your list. Then cut yourself some slack. Have some compassion for yourself. These are tough times. You are doing the best you can. Let that sink in for a moment. You are doing the best you can.

Hopelessness often comes from feeling out of control, that there is nothing we can do to change the situation. Another component of hopelessness is the kind of wishful thinking that just sets us up for disappointment.  Magical thinking is not hope. Last time I checked there were no fairy godmothers hanging around waiting to grant our heart’s desire. Equally unhelpful in the search for hope is the “always look on the bright side,” “things could be worse,” “just buck up and keep a positive outlook” twaddle that happy-clappy religious people peddle when they have never really known what it is like to feel hopeless.

True hope is of much stronger stuff than wishful thinking and trite phrases. In the familiar words of 1 Corinthians 13, hope is inextricably bound to faith and love. Faith, at its simplest is belief in Something bigger than ourselves. Love, at its simplest, is recognizing that the Divine is at work in all of creation and responding with the best we have to offer. Hope is a belief in the possibility that things can be different. When faith, hope and love combine, they dive deeply into the heart of the Divine and into the essence of what it means to be human. Combine faith, hope and love and there’s something to hold on to.

It’s important to say that hope is not tied to a specific outcome; it doesn’t depend on certainty. Trying to engineer the outcome falls back into the wishful thinking category. Rather, it is the belief there is potential for something different to happen. In like fashion, it is also the belief that the present difficulties have not eclipsed good things happening at this moment in time.

We see how the pandemic has brought out the worst in people, but it has also brought out the best in people. Hope can be found by looking for the little and big things that people do to make life better. I am continually in awe of health care workers who keep showing up and doing what needs to be done because this is their vocation, not just their job. It is their purpose in this life. I find great hopefulness in this. I find hope in the kind actions of strangers whose eyes smile behind the masks, who take a moment to thank essential workers and show politeness when others are being jerks.

Sure, there are many things that are beyond our control, but not everything is beyond our control. Hope is something in which we must actively participate. It means that we can be the change we want to see. The little changes we make in ourselves can be a source of energy that moves us forward. Actively participating in something that makes a positive change begins to shift our perspective. When we are looking for kindness, we tend to find it. Actively participating in life is a trustworthy toe hold in hope.

Comfort and hope also can be found in some things that are beyond our control. I find great comfort in the fact that the sun rises every day. There is nothing I have to do but pay attention. There is a steadiness to the rhythm of days that is grounding and centering.

Hope always hovers above the moment and calls beyond itself while holding fast to faith and love. We find hope in baby steps not giant leaps, in the places we look expecting to find something good. We find hope when we embody the change we want to see in the world.

This week I posted to my social media page and thanked people for sending good wishes on my birthday. This, in turn, sparked a whole new wave of good wishes– high school friends from whom I have not heard in years, friends present and those whom years and changing circumstance have distanced. I received phone calls and flowers and more. It was like being queen for a day!

It was not a particularly momentous birthday like a decade marker. I can still say I am in my early sixties. I guess that can be considered momentous. There is, however, more to it than that. Despite the creaky joints, gray hair and pounds that cluster around my waist as the years go on, a birthday matters. It is a reminder that I am growing older and that is a privilege denied to many. It is a reminder that I survived another year, and this year is a doozy of one to survive. It is a place holder in the journey of days, all of which combine to make a life. And as such, each passing year is to be celebrated.

I was also reminded that the day after my birthday was the fifth anniversary of the death of my mother following a courageous and lengthy battle with Multiple Sclerosis. I remember my sister having a heart to heart with my mother and telling her she could NOT die on my birthday. My mom managed to hang on until the next morning. Truth be told, I would have been fine with it. It speaks to me of some mysterious circle of life that would have changed me in a unique way, just as all birthdays do. In the way that grief goes, five years were just yesterday and at the same time, it has been forever. Grief has a strange sense of time. Again I remembered how many people came to pay their respects, sent flowers and cards. I was so grateful for those who cared for us in our sorrow and grief. I remember being pleasantly surprised by those I never imagined would come and disappointed by those I thought might show up and didn’t. Grief is like that too.

Mostly, this odd confluence of days reminds me that it is often the little things that bring the greatest comfort and joy. In these days of great challenge and utter weirdness, it is the little things that put the book mark in our days. A friend suggested it may be because people are spending more time at home now. Indeed, that may be part of it. When (and if) life gets back to normal, it’s a reminder of what we might hold on to, those little things that make such a difference in our life and the lives others. Getting back to normal often means being over committed, over busy and often times over-stressed. In the midst of such moments it is easy to think that our puny little gestures may not matter all that much.

News flash: they do matter.

They remind us that others matter to us and we matter to others, sometimes in ways we had never imagined or ways we have forgotten. The seemingly small gestures are gifts to the day and gifts to be treasured.

Being remembered on a birthday is simple enough but it means someone is thinking of us. In times of sorrow, receiving a card or a phone call is a reminder that we are held in the hearts of others when our own hearts are breaking.

Too often we wait to tell someone they matter and then time runs out. Too often our busyness eclipses the better angels of our nature that know that it’s the little things that really do matter. Maybe this is one lesson of the pandemic, albeit one that has come at a terrible cost. It’s the little things that matter.

Don’t wait to tell someone they matter. Don’t put off writing that note or card to let someone know you are thinking of them. Don’t neglect the opportunity to say thank you to an essential worker and tell them you appreciate them. As they no doubt get rations of garbage from far too many people, you can make someone’s day by just saying, “thank you.”

Don’t put off the little things that ultimately make up a life. They really are the big things.

 

This week I posted to my social media page and thanked people for sending good wishes on my birthday. This, in turn, sparked a whole new wave of good wishes– high school friends from whom I have not heard in years, friends present and those whom years and changing circumstance have distanced. I received phone calls and flowers and more. It was like being queen for a day!

It was not a particularly momentous birthday like a decade marker. I can still say I am in my early sixties. I guess that can be considered momentous. There is, however, more to it than that. Despite the creaky joints, gray hair and pounds that cluster around my waist as the years go on, a birthday matters. It is a reminder that I am growing older and that is a privilege denied to many. It is a reminder that I survived another year, and this year is a doozy of one to survive. It is a place holder in the journey of days, all of which combine to make a life. And as such, each passing year is to be celebrated.

I was also reminded that the day after my birthday was the fifth anniversary of the death of my mother following a courageous and lengthy battle with Multiple Sclerosis. I remember my sister having a heart to heart with my mother and telling her she could NOT die on my birthday. My mom managed to hang on until the next morning. Truth be told, I would have been fine with it. It speaks to me of some mysterious circle of life that would have changed me in a unique way, just as all birthdays do. In the way that grief goes, five years were just yesterday and at the same time, it has been forever. Grief has a strange sense of time. Again I remembered how many people came to pay their respects, sent flowers and cards. I was so grateful for those who cared for us in our sorrow and grief. I remember being pleasantly surprised by those I never imagined would come and disappointed by those I thought might show up and didn’t. Grief is like that too.

Mostly, this odd confluence of days reminds me that it is often the little things that bring the greatest comfort and joy. In these days of great challenge and utter weirdness, it is the little things that put the book mark in our days. A friend suggested it may be because people are spending more time at home now. Indeed, that may be part of it. When (and if) life gets back to normal, it’s a reminder of what we might hold on to, those little things that make such a difference in our life and the lives others. Getting back to normal often means being over committed, over busy and often times over-stressed. In the midst of such moments it is easy to think that our puny little gestures may not matter all that much.

News flash: they do matter.

They remind us that others matter to us and we matter to others, sometimes in ways we had never imagined or ways we have forgotten. The seemingly small gestures are gifts to the day and gifts to be treasured.

Being remembered on a birthday is simple enough but it means someone is thinking of us. In times of sorrow, receiving a card or a phone call is a reminder that we are held in the hearts of others when our own hearts are breaking.

Too often we wait to tell someone they matter and then time runs out. Too often our busyness eclipses the better angels of our nature that know that it’s the little things that really do matter. Maybe this is one lesson of the pandemic, albeit one that has come at a terrible cost. It’s the little things that matter.

Don’t wait to tell someone they matter. Don’t put off writing that note or card to let someone know you are thinking of them. Don’t neglect the opportunity to say thank you to an essential worker and tell them you appreciate them. As they no doubt get rations of garbage from far too many people, you can make someone’s day by just saying, “thank you.”

Don’t put off the little things that ultimately make up a life. They really are the big things.

 

When Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez spoke up about the verbal abuse leveled at her by Representative Yoho (I think yo-yo might be more appropriate), she challenged another strand in the DNA of our country: sexism and patriarchy.

If you breathe while female, you know what it is to be paid less than a man for the same work and/or judged for your physical appearance. You know what it is like to deal with inappropriate touching and comments. You know what it is like to be called honey and sweetie and darling. If you take exception to any of the above you are called a feminazi, man hater, bitch etc.  (My late mother had the best come back to being called a bitch, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” It has served me well). If you take exception to any of the above you are told you are being overly sensitive or that no harm was meant. Somehow the inappropriate behavior of another is turned to be your fault. If you breathe while female, you can add your own examples of how sexism and patriarchy have affected you.

What these examples have in common is that they minimize women and challenge the power and authority women have in any given situation. Sexism and patriarchy are the umbrella terms. Insult and minimization are a consequence.  One’s intent has nothing to do it. So we must persist in calling men out (and sometimes women) and risk being called ______; fill in the blank.

We have learned that “all men are created equal” does not apply to people of color in our racist society. It also does not apply to women in our sexist society. In fact, it does not apply to any marginalized people in our culture.

There is a long theological history that matches social history through the years. Sexism and patriarchy have been encouraged by Christianity. The Christian Lectionary, a three year cycle of scripture used for worship, excludes many of the texts that use feminine images for God.  For example, God is described as a mother eagle in Deuteronomy 32: 11-12. In Hosea 13:8 God is again described as a mother eagle protecting her young. In Isaiah 66:13 God is a mother comforting her child. The pronouns used for Spirit are feminine in both Greek and Hebrew.

The predominance of male leadership in worship has taught us to overlook the women who clearly kept company with Jesus and had leadership positions in the early church. In Luke’s gospel women who kept company with Jesus include Mary Magdalene. (There is no historic evidence to support the notion that she was a prostitute. This is an example of what history has done to women in positions of leadership in the life of discipleship.) Joanna and Susanna are also mentioned as evangelists with Jesus. In addition, Jesus routinely challenged the social norms of his day by including women, many whose names are lost to the history that didn’t value women. Women were also the first witnesses to the resurrection, though the men to whom they brought the news did not believe them.

Women were also leaders in the early church. Women were ordained to positions of leadership. A number of women served as leaders of the house churches that sprang up in the cities of the Roman Empire. The list includes Priscilla, Chloe and Lydia. Paul gave instructions to the women deacons in his letter to Timothy.  In the second century, Clement of Alexandria wrote that the apostles were accompanied on their missionary journeys by women who were not marriage partners, but colleagues. By the fourth century, however, women were largely excluded from the church structure. A male hierarchy emerged during the patristic period that changed the course of Christianity and shaped social norms that institutionalize sexism, imbuing it with a convoluted “divine authority.” It followed through the centuries and prohibited the ordination of women. It was l980 before the Episcopal Church ordained women. My own tradition, the United Church of Christ, ordained Antoinette Brown in 1853. It was a momentous event in the life of the Christian church.

Social and religious patriarchy has traveled through history hand in hand, to the detriment of women. Patriarchy is an entire system that is recreated by male dominated structures and processes. It creates an environment that makes the bad behavior of men acceptable and blames women for holding them to a higher standard. The quasi-religious blessing on male- centered culture makes it especially difficult to challenge.

While women have made much progress toward equality in the last decades, both in society and in the church, it is clear there is more work to be done. No man should every get away with calling a woman a “f*cking bitch” and no woman should be chastised for holding that man accountable. The patriarchy lives and the voice of every woman is needed to continue to challenge and dismantle it.

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