#grace internship

But it’s hard for us to hold seemingly contradictory truths in tension: That good people can do bad things, and bad people can do good things. That someone who knows oppression like Sarah can still abuse others. That the same person who is capable of beautiful kindness, like that which Abraham shows to the three strangers, is also capable of enabling horrible cruelty.

The phrase “there are no good cops” has been going around a lot these days, and I think people’s immediate rejection of this phrase stems from this same struggle to hold multiple things in tension. Many of us know a good person who is a police officer -- and therefore, we say, there are good cops! But what the phrase is actually saying is that even a good person -- someone who is kind and loving when off duty, who joined the police out of a desire to serve the community -- cannot be a good cop, because when they serve that role, serving unjust laws is part of their job description. 

To be a police officer, they must uphold racist, ableist, sexist, queerphobic laws. They must be ready to show up to work and be told to put on riot gear, load up rubber bullets, and stand against peaceful protestors. 

Likewise, Abraham and Sarah may well be good people -- that is to say, when at their best, they do good things. They are faithful; they are devoted to each other; they practice hospitality. But perhaps the phrase “no good cops” could be adapted to that ancient time, and we can say “There are no good patriarchs.” Abraham is a good man, but he is not good in his role as patriarch, as head of his household -- because to maintain that role, he must do unjust things. It’s in the job description. To be a patriarch, he must wield power over other human lives, must hold them as his property. He must have children, and that means raping an enslaved woman. He must maintain order, and that means casting Hagar and Ishmael away. 

There are no good patriarchs.

[ID: a blue infographic reading “Using our unique identities to enrich our faith lives and communities” and offering info about this “courageous conversation with Grace” -- it’s on Zoom on Wednesday Dec 9, 6:30-8pm CST; “All are welcome -- no prior attendance or reading of the book required!” The book in question is Native by Kaitlin B. Curtice. / end ID]

Inviting all of you to attend a Zoom discussion i’m facilitating for my church tonight! The more folks come, the more there will be to discuss, since it’s about the unique things we each bring to the table. (Of course, you aren’t obligated to talk about yourself if you prefer not to -- you can just sit and listen if that’s more your style!)

Here’s the link: https://us02web.zoom.us/j/83840083587

In Native, Kaitlin B. Curtice describes how she resists assimilation to bring her Potawatomi identity into her personal connection to God as well as into her church communities. In this Zoom discussion, we'll ponder how we all might do the same:

How do your unique identities, cultures, gifts, and other aspects of yourself enrich your connection to the Divine?

Join us!

Image description: two black squares with information about a Zoom discussion titled “The Facts about Fiction: Let’s talk about how novels, films, and other works of fiction — from Birth of a Nation and Gone with the Wind to Disney’s Pocahontas — help shape society’s perspective on race and other issues. Come as you are, no prior reading required.”

The event is on Thursday October 15 at 6:30pm Central Time, on Zoom (message me for the link or with any questions!). I’m facilitating discussion and it’s being held through my lgbt affirming church in Alabama.

i don’t believe that.

Esau gave in to Jacob’s demand because he knew that Jacob would never have the means to compel Esau to make good on his word.

Jacob was physically weaker. Jacob was set to inherit the tiniest fragment of the wealth and resources that Esau would inherit. how on earth would Jacob ever wrest the birthright and the blessing he was owed from Esau?

Esau’s ‘crime’ here is less impulsiveness, and more a trust in the status quo. his world of patriarchy and primogeniture promised him his inheritance, whether he was a good man or bad, an honest man or a liar. he could tell his younger brother whatever Jacob wanted to hear, but down the road he could trust that their father would bestow the blessing on Esau anyway.

his reliance on the status quo is what allows Esau to hand over his birthright so easily -- because he knows that merely saying it’s Jacob’s now does not make it so.

Esau’s great failing is that he assumes that his culture’s will is God’s will.

the problem for Esau is that God does not play by human rules.

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in the Book of Genesis and throughout the rest of scripture, we see God working within the bounds of cultural assumptions and norms, rolling with the binary systems that human societies construct -- right up to the point where Xe doesn’t.

In The Soul of the Stranger: Reading God and Torah from a Transgender Perspective, Jewish scholar Joy Ladin focuses on the elements of gender inherent to the system of primogeniture that places the firstborn Esau over the secondborn Jacob in every way. To her, biblical maleness comes in different “flavors” -- the roles expected of a firstborn son are different from those assigned to non-firstborn sons. She says,

“Jacob and Esau are both male and are born almost simultaneously, but they are assigned at birth to very different gender roles. Because Esau emerges from the womb first, he is considered the firstborn, heir not only to Isaac’s worldly possessions but also to the relationship with God that Isaac inherited from his father, Abraham. Though Jacob is born holding onto his brother’s heel, he is considered the second-born, expected to accept the authority of his older brother, who, after their father’s death, will be the head of the family. Like the gender binary, this law of inheritance, called ‘primogeniture,’ creates a lifelong, life-determining binary division between males who are and those who aren’t firstborn sons. And like the gender binary, primogeniture turns biology, in this case birth order, into destiny. The way male children are raised, the roles they are assigned, and the futures toward which they are steered are determined by whether they are or aren’t firstborn sons.” (p. 36)

Esau has grown up understanding that his inheritance is his destiny. It’s what he’s been born for, what he’s been raised for, what he is entitled to. Why would he believe that he would ever have to make good on his silly promise to Jacob to hand over that destiny? It’s set in stone, inviolable.

at least it is in the eyes of men. but not to God.

Avery shares their poem about how tasks as mundane as preparing tea can become a prayer. They were inspired to write this poem by Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg's discussion of how Jewish law fosters mindfulness and orients a person towards God.

Text of the poem:

preparing tea is its own kind of prayer – one that heat and water pray for you.

the kettle’s keening. laughter bubbling up. the steady sigh of water as it folds into the cup.

see the steam raise its arms to embrace the sunlight peering in through kitchen window?

those swaying arms enact a psalm of praise clear as voice or timbrel, or clapping trees of the field.

see how the water blushes, rich and brown, as the sachet swirls within?

likewise are we saturated through with Spirit when we open to Her dance.

each mundane task, each daily chore or act overflows with blessing.

the whole world thrums with gratitude for God Who permeates the stream, the steam, the sunbeam’s heat –

Who was with the leaves when they unfurled from the twig to taste the pulse of the earth, its breath and light;

Avery invites us to reimagine our conceptions of heaven from an unchanging expanse of cloud to a vibrant place full of diversity and growth. How do you imagine heaven? They share a poem they wrote called "Heaven is home to quick green things," text below:

i hope Your kin(g)dom’s halls are walled with tree trunks

with canopies for roofs – in shades of green never seen before by human eyes

and veritable riots of flowers, fruits, everywhere i look! – and, when i need a rest from color after vibrant color,

i hope the leafy canopy gives way      to black           so deep i almost believe Your whole infinity could curl up in its blue-black folds, with room to spare for all your nursing galaxies.  

…

i’ve never understood how they can read Your declaration “Good! very Good!” – read how

You would not cease from making till You stood amidst a million billion nebulae that each great downdraft of Your mighty wings sent aswirl with dust and heat that coalesced

into stars and planets, split again into seas and lands, cells, plants, and only then

only then did You rest as the milky way jingled on Your wrist –

they read of this and then they paint Your heaven sterile white as far as eye can see! unbroken vault of neutralizing light devoid of all the variegating shades and creatures that You made with Your own breath and eons of delight.

…

i hope your kin(g)dom’s halls are loud with birdsong and prowling with cats, and rippling with fishes

i hope new life-forms bud a thousandfold instead of shrinking down to human beings and angels stock-still in one solemn mass;

for unity need not require extinction –

and You,       great bounty-bringer,              atom-splicer,                     dance-delighter, You

look lovelier when draped in gauzy rainbow, a diadem of ivy laced with stars and shadows silking over You like feathers –

and humankind alone, even backed by angels cannot think of enough new ways to praise You…

so let the birds of the air, the slinking things, the fish of the sea and seeds that split the dirt join in on the praise of You that words don’t cover

you know i had to do it* to em

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We believe in one Triune God, Creator of all things.

In that Beginning shared in Genesis, She brooded over watery darkness, as in the womb,

and gave birth to Creation in all its remarkable diversity — including the day and night, and the various shades of dawn and dusk between; including the sea and land, and the shores at which they meet; including the plants and all kinds of animals, and beyond them — the mollusks and fungi, and unicellular life… and, finally, including human beings with our vast diversity of mind and body all crafted in the divine image.

We believe in one Triune God, Redeemer of humanity, who came to Abraham and Sarah, Hagar and Ishmael, Jacob and Rachel and Joseph; who came to Moses — a stranger in a strange land, unsure of where he belonged — and liberated the Hebrew people from their bondage; and who, in the Person of Jesus Christ, entered Creation to liberate all peoples from all forms of bondage, to redeem us even from sin, even from death itself. 

We believe in one Triune God, Sustainer of all things, in whom we live, and move, and have our being

whose Spirit breathes life back into parched lands and withered hearts, and pulls open every door we would keep shut, sweeps away every line we draw in the sand.