She Said, He's Dead

When Sandy Hook happened this past December, it broke the nation's heart, it kick started a movement to actually get something of significance done on gun safety for the first time in over a decade, and it also brought out all of the fervent gun rights advocates, those with legitimate rights and concerns as well as the crazies who are just convinced that a gun will solve every problem and/or Obama is imminently planning on personally busting down their doors to take their arsenals.

I'm not even going to try and touch on the latter group of crazies, because, as was so eloquently pointed out on MSNBC the other day, it's just inane circular logic wherein these people feel the need to amass huge amounts of guns to stop Obama or the liberals or whoever from taking their guns and they think those people will take away their guns because they have these huge arsenals to protect themselves from the liberal takeover and so they buy lots of guns to stop said takeover...and on and on the crazy merri-go-round spins.

But I've been wanting to write a blog post to/about that other group of crazies, the ones who think a gun will solve every problem, for a long time now.  See, a few months back, I idiotically got into this Twitter argument with a bunch of trolls who were convinced that if every woman just owned and constantly carried a gun, rapes and sexual assaults would somehow cease to exist.  In their mind, every situation of attempted and completed rape, assault, or abuse is cut and dry, the woman can totally see it coming, and will have the time and wherewithal to get to her gun and take out her attacker.

And, sure, in some situations, that could probably work.  The stereotypical story of the creepy trench coat dude jumping out of the bushes in front of the woman could maybe be halted by a well-armed and well-trained woman.  But even in that situation (which is actually fairly rare as most sexual assaults are perpetrated by acquaintances), if the woman successfully takes out the guy, the cops would show up, and what would they find?  A woman with a concealed-carry weapon, evidence that she's just fired it, the bullet having killed her attacker.  Depending on how early in the attack she fired, the woman may not even have the slightest scratch on her.  So instead of the oh-so-common 'he said, she said' situation, all the cops will see is 'she said, he's dead.'  And while, in some cases, the cops might believe the woman or she might be able to successfully be acquitted because the jury believes she acted in self-defense, in all likelihood, there would be far too many cases where the woman would end up in jail.  It's hard enough for women to convince a cop, a judge, or a jury that she was attacked when the guy is alive and well and there is at least some evidence that an assault occurred.  But when all that you have is a woman, alive and well, and a dead body, chances are that the woman would end up in jail more often than not.

And that's just the fairly unrealistic, cut-and-dry, relatively uncommon stranger rape situation.  What about the far too frequent situations where the woman knows her attacker?  Whether it's a current or former paramour, a father, a grandfather, a pimp, or a 'john.'

And I personally know someone who has been in every one of the situations that I've just listed.

And I can promise you, a gun would not have helped.  In fact, it would've made it far, far worse.

One of my family members was in a domestic violence relationship for years.  And the statistics are clear: you put a firearm in the middle of a domestic violence situation and the mortality rate of the woman (not the man) skyrockets.  But even putting that aside, say my family member had just had enough one day, obtained a gun somehow, and put an end to the whole thing.  In this situation, up until the very end, there was no documentation to back up the violent nature of the relationship.  No hospital records, no police reports.  The only thing that is on this guy's record even today, multiple years after my family member got out of the situation, is a record of verbal and emotional abuse.  So, no, a gun would not have helped.  Sure, if my family member had been able to obtain and use a gun on this guy, the situation would have ended.  But, more than likely she would have just ended up in jail.

Another family member was abused for years by her adopted father.  After years of bouncing back and forth between bad foster homes and an even worse home with her birth mom, she had finally found safety and security in a adopted family.  Or so she thought.  Her adopted father started abusing her when she was just 11 years old.  And she knew where his gun was.  But all she felt was shame and disgust and worthlessness.  Not towards him.  Towards herself.  So if she had ever gotten and used that gun, it wouldn't have been on him.  It would have been on herself.  And I'm not just guessing here.  Those are her words, not mine.

Another friend was raped by her ex-boyfriend.  She cared for him.  But then he got drunk.  And he got violent.  What girl takes a gun to a party with an ex (who was still her friend at this point)?   How on earth could a gun have helped?  Very few people can use a gun on someone that they know and care about, no matter the self-defense justifications.

And then there's my friend who went on a trip with her grandfather to visit an aunt on the west coast.  He was her grandfather.  And he assaulted her.  Again, very few, if any people would be able to pull a gun on their own grandfather, especially if, up to that point, they had a decent relationship.  Never mind the logistics of this friend actually feeling the need to have a gun with her while on a family vacation!  So, again, I ask, how could a gun have helped?

And what about the friend who was forced into the sex trade and had a gun shoved in her mouth by one of her 'johns'?  Would her having her own gun have helped her?  No.  It wouldn't.  She would've just killed herself.  Again, her words, not mine.

I'm not saying all of these things to try and argue that no woman can or should own or carry a gun.  Or even that no woman should use a gun against an attacker should the situation arise in such a way that it's even possible.  Women have every right to own a gun to feel safer and even to use it to defend themselves.

But the truth of the matter is that, in most situations, you mix a gun in with an attempted or completed sexual assault and either the girl will end up dead, whether by her own hands or her abuser's, or the guy will end up dead and she'll end up in jail.

So, no, guns don't answer the problem of sexual assault.

And there's a broader problem at issue here: the notion that women should have to carry weapons to stop sexual assaults once again puts the onus completely on women to stop the assault.  I'm just so sick and tired of people thinking that if women just carried a gun, screamed, whistled, peed on themselves during an assault (yes, that's a real suggestion often given), didn't wear skimpy clothing, didn't walk alone at night, didn't drink, didn't have sex (like, ever), didn't go anywhere alone with male friends, didn't go to parties, didn't do this, didn't do that...didn't...exist.

Rape culture is everywhere.  And it's sickening to me, but beyond that, it forces us to continually fight and argue our way through and out of these idiotic 'rules' that are thrown at us before we can ever get to the actual issue, the actual problem, the true cause of sexual assaults.

Do you want to know how to stop rapes? It's actually pretty simple: get rapists to STOP RAPING PEOPLE!!!

Ok, so getting that to actually happen isn't simple.  I know that.  But my point remains: we have got to stop putting all of the onus on women to magically get men to stop raping them and instead place the blame, the shame, and the rules on the rapists!

Rapes don't happen because women walk home alone, drink too much, have sexual histories, don't carry or use guns, don't pee themselves during an assault, or any of the other idiotic things that are shouted at us on a nearly daily basis to get rapes to stop happening.

Rapes happen because rapists rape.  And rapes happen because this culture says it's ok.

No, people don't come right out and say it, but every time one of those idiotic rules is repeated, whether it's by teachers, parents, friends, the media, police officers or anyone else at all, it tells rapists and potential rapists that it's not their fault.  If they see a woman doing any of those things that she's not "supposed" to do, it's ok.  Go ahead.  It's not your fault.  You can rape her.  We won't shame or blame you.  We'll shame and blame her.

Yeah, I know, culture still puts blame on rapists.  But that's usually only once they're actually accused and convicted.  And only a relatively small portion of accused rapists are actually convicted.  And only a tiny fraction of rapists are even accused.

And part of that is because the judicial system in this country is rigorous, has numerous road blocks and hurdles, and I get that.  Hell, I'm insanely grateful for it, even though I know it'll make my life hell as a sex crimes prosecutor.

But that's not why so few rapists are ever brought to justice.  It's because we, as a culture, place the onus on women to stop rapes from happening and puts the majority of the shame and blame on survivors once the rape has happened.

And that brings me back to why the notion of all women carrying guns to stop rapes is so freaking idiotic: if the culture already places so much shame and blame and rules on women, why would that same culture ever believe that a woman who's in a car, a hotel room, a house, or even in a dark alley next to a scary bush when she says that she had to kill the guy because he was going to rape her.

She said.

He's dead.

My Apology for Homosexuality

Note: I know this post is way longer than I would normally write, but please bear with me.  This is a hugely important issue and I am getting there. 

I've said it before, and I'm sure I'll say it again, but one of my greatest heroes in life is the 20th century suffragist, Alice Paul.  She was willing to be jailed, go on a hunger strike, and be force fed, all in the name of taking the first of many steps on the road to female equality: the ballot.  And I often think that I would be willing to go those same length to fight for my convictions.

But here's the thing: it's not the United States government that I worry about disagreeing with my beliefs.  I don't worry that, by standing up for myself and my convictions, the government will choose to find an excuse to lock me in a cell and throw away the key.  

But there is another institution that I worry about rejecting me and people that I know will not accept the things that I have to say.  That institution is the Christian church and those people are many of my closest family and friends.  But I can't let that stop me.  I just can't anymore.

Throughout my years in high school and college, I remember pastors and youth leaders calling for "revolution."  But they were never very clear about what that revolution was supposed to mean or do.  Yeah, they made vague references to influencing the world towards "Christian" ways or somehow re-shaping our culture, but there was no specific call to action.  I think part of that was because they simply had no clue what a revolution truly is.See, the Christian church has gone through revolutions before, although it is more commonly called a "reformation."  Yes, I am talking about the "Great Reformation," sparked by that quintessential moment when Martin Luther nailed his 95-Theses to the door of the Catholic church in Wittenburg, Germany.  And while, for years, I've known about this unilateral act by Martin Luther, I don't think I ever really considered what that must have meant for him.  Specifically, I never contemplated how very much courage it must have taken not only Martin Luther, but every single one of his followers to actually be willing to turn away from the Catholic church, risking (according to the Catholic church) their very souls.

Going against the established church back in the 15th century was, or course, far more courageous than any push against the established church today because, for Martin Luther and his contemporaries, there was only one church.  Today, the organized church is not one whole unit; it is splintered into dozens or even hundreds of different denominations, some with only minute disagreements among themselves, others with near catastrophic differences.  So I'm not claiming to even come close to comprehending the amount of courage that it took for Martin Luther to nail that document to that church door.  I just don't know.  But I do know something about fearing rejection by the established church, even with a definition of such a thing as the "established" church being murky at best.

But nonetheless, I do believe that the church today, however it may be defined, does desperately need revolution.  And although it is a different scale, it does still take courage to stand up and call for it.  And it is a lack of courage that has kept me from speaking out and calling for change for a long time now.  But it has kept me from even coming to my own personal conclusions, despite my own convictions, for even longer.

One of the things that Martin Luther fought for was the ability of everyday man to have access to the very pages of Scripture that the Catholic church was abusing.  Since that day, people, through reading the Bible themselves, have had the power to figure out for themselves what to believe about specific passages and the ways that those passages should impact their lives.

Over the last several decades, though, something else has changed: the church has decided that, on a vast many topics, only one interpretation is considered valid.  Now, people are supposed to just accept the English interpretations of some, at times, very obscure texts written hundreds of years ago in ancient Greek, Hebrew, and Aramaic.  These interpretations can range from only slightly subjective to extremely biased.  And yet we, as Christians, are simply supposed to blindly subject our belief systems and actions to the choices that these translators have made.  And for a lot of issues, that wouldn't bother me.  But there is one issue, in particular, that I can't just blindly accept anymore.  In fact, I haven't been able to blindly accept it for a long time.  

The issue I'm talking about is one that is, in so many Christian circles, seen as the "worst of the worst."  It's used to hate and bash and blame and yell and diminish and hurt.  Oh, so much hurt.

Some of you may already have figured it out, but just to be explicitly clear: the issue that I'm talking about is homosexuality.  And, to be clear, when I say in the title that I'm making an "apology" for homosexuality, I'm not saying that I'm somehow trying to make amends.  Quite the opposite, in fact.  I'm using the term "apology" in the context of a theologically based argument.

So I've studied the issue, looked at the original Greek or Hebrew words, examined context and culture, all to try and make the most informed decision I can about what an accurate interpretation of these passages should be.  Now, I don't claim to have any training in original language interpretation.  So all I can do is read as much as I can and then go with my convictions (and that, by the way, is all that I can ask of anyone else).

There is, and probably always will be, more to say on this topic, so I'm not going to even attempt to make a comprehensive apology for homosexuality not being against the Word of God.  Also, for anyone reading this who doesn't believe that the Bible is God's Word or should be used as applicable to our lives: you are not the people that I'm writing this to.  Because, for you, it just doesn't matter.  But for me and for my family and many of my friends and my church, this issue is crucial.   And, far more importantly, it is crucial to anyone who is not a heterosexual, no matter what label they carry, who has been hurt or rejected or shamed by the church. So, because I started by talking about Martin Luther, I too am going to break down what I have to say into a number of different points.  Although I don't have 95.  I don't think I'd ever finish...

1. First and arguably most importantly, we need to be constantly aware about the context in which we are speaking, specifically about the impact that what we have to say has on people's lives.  No one lives in a vacuum, so simply making a proclamation such as "homosexuality is wrong" or any variation similar to that touches people's lives.  It is a statement about someone's very identity.  Even if you hold the belief that people can "choose" whether or not to be gay, you still need to be aware that the majority, if not all non-heterosexual people feel that their sexual orientation is a part of who they are as a person.  So making the aforementioned proclamation attacks a person's very identity.  It can lead others to a lack of understanding, fear, and hatred.  These things, in turn, can and do lead to violence.  We need to be aware of this context before going any further.
2. We need to be open to learning new truths from the Bible, even if that means changing long-, strongly-, and traditionally-held beliefs.  The apostle Paul had to be struck blind by God to turn from traditional Judaism and the apostle Peter saw a sheet lowered from Heaven in a dream in order to change his beliefs about Biblical teachings.  Martin Luther sparked the Protestant Reformation.  Churches across this country for years believed and taught that slavery was Scripture-sanctioned, interracial marriage was wrong, and women should hold no leadership roles.  Yes, we believe that the Bible and God are both infallible, but that says nothing of you or me.  We, as humans, are far from infallible.  We are prone to errors, mistranslations, and misinterpretations.  And it's prideful to think otherwise. 
3. Now, I think another important thing to be aware of when digging into this issue on a Biblical level is realizing that every book, chapter, and verse of the Bible fits together to tell a single story, all revolving around God's radical love for mankind manifested most fully and most poignantly in the personhood of Jesus Christ.  So, when examining a specific and, at times, seemingly obscure passage that seems to address homosexuality, it is primarily important to put that passage into context.  It's important to ask how this passage furthers God's message of love and salvation.  So, when looking at specific passages for an answer to questions about sexuality or sex, it's crucial to remember that the Bible is not a book written about sex or orientation or identity.  It's a book about God and by God about who He is and His love for us.
4. Furthermore, there was no definitive word in the Biblical languages that is equivalent to a modern understanding of monogamous, committed homosexual relationships.  There just wasn't.  I'll get into what the words sometimes translated as "homosexual" are talking about in a bit, but for now it's important to be aware of this simple fact.
5. Now, moving on to those specific passages used by people to try to condemn homosexuality.  First, and most notably, there is the infamous story of Sodom and Gomorrah (Genesis 18:16-19:14).  This story is the origin of the degrading term "sodomy" and its derivatives.  We likely all know the tale: two angels who came in the form of men, go to Sodom to retrieve Abraham's nephew, Lot, in advance of the city's predicted destruction.  Now this is an important point: the city was already doomed even before the angels entered the city.  Now, the saga that occurs once those angels enter the city have nothing to do with homosexual relations as we know them today.  It is a story of a complete lack of hospitality and, yes, of savagery.  But that savagery is in relation to an attempted gang rape.  Yes, the intended perpetrators were men and, yes, their intended victims were men.  But rape has NOTHING to do with sex, and EVERYTHING to do with exerting power and control.  We don't have any clue what the sexual orientation of those offenders was!  But you don't have to take my word for it.  The prophet Ezekiel makes clear that the sin of Sodom and Gomorrah that doomed them to destruction was that they were rich and prosperous but did not care for the poor and needy among them (Ezekiel 16:48-49 - "This is the sin of Sodom; she and her suburbs had pride, excess food, and prosperous ease, but did not help or encourage the poor and needy.  They were arrogant and this was abominable in God's eyes.").  Likewise, in Matthew 10 and Luke 10, Jesus refers to the sin of Sodom as the sin of inhospitality.  So the point that God is making in this story is heard clearly in Micah: "do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God" (Micah 6:8).
6. The second most oft quoted passage used to condemn homosexuality is Leviticus 18:22; 20:13.  These are the verses that declare that, if a man lies with another man, it is an abomination and they should be executed.  But let's put these verses into context: just around these verses are "condemnations" of a man sleeping with a women while she is on her period.  It declares that this is an abomination and that both the man and the woman should be executed!  Leviticus also seemingly condemns tattoos (oops!!), wearing clothing of mixed fabrics (no cotton/poly blends for you!), eating pork or even playing with its skin (so, sorry Ravens, no Superbowl title for you. It's an abomination!)  My point being, the Levitical code needs to be taken with a grain of salt and understood in context.  It's a book written by Moses primarily to the Levitical priesthood about how the priests should conduct their lives.  Some of it is addressed to the Hebrew nation as a whole, but the entire point of it was to call Israel to a higher, nay an impossibly high standard so that Israel would be a nation set-apart, completely distinct from every surrounding culture.  Furthermore, the word "abomination" that is used throughout this Holiness code has a very different meaning from the way it is commonly understood.  The Hebrew word was "TO'EBAH" and it is in reference to behaviours that people in a particular place and time find tasteless and offensive.  Ergo, which acts are "TO'EBAH" will change depending upon your circumstances.  When Paul declared that it is ok for Christians to eat pork, he was talking about the requirements listed in this Levitical holiness code, and he said that it does not pertain to Christians!  Likewise, the Levitacal holiness code said not to work on the Sabbath, yet Jesus openly declared that to be not applicable.  So why, according to this Levitical code, was it "TO'EBAH" for a man to sleep with another man?  It's the same reason why Genesis 38:9-10 condemns a man "spilling his seed on the ground" (this has been used to condemn masturbation or even "pulling out" as an act of birth control).  It was because they believed that man's seed contained the entire essence of life (and woman was just the incubator for that seed) and the Israelites were trying to expand their nation in order to fulfill God's command and promise that they reproduce and fill the earth.  So, in today's context, there are and probably should be a certain standard of sexual conduct expected for Christ followers, but it doesn't find its root in the Levitical code.  Furthermore, we now understand the biological process of reproduction exponentially better than the Israelites ever did, and most Christians agree that we are no longer under the strict command to "fill the earth" (i.e. reproduce endlessly without birth control).
7. Next, I want to talk about two passages together: the creation story in Genesis 1-2 and the passage in Romans 1 used to condemn both gay and lesbian relations.  So in the Genesis story, you see God displaying awesome power in his creation of the entire world, from the sky above to the earth below, to the plants and the animals, and finally, to man and woman.  Throughout the entire creation process, God keeps stopping and declaring an end to every day of work with "It is good."  When he creates man, he declares him "very good."  But then something happens: God declares something "not good."  He says, "it is not good for man to be alone."  And so he creates a woman, Eve, to be his suitable companion.  And again he declares it "very good."  Now here is where most critics of homosexuality from a Biblical perspective come in with snarky signs that say "God created Adam and EVE" not "Adam and STEVE."  And it's true.  For Adam, his suitable companion was Eve.  But does that inherently mean that EVERY man's suitable companion is a woman? And vice versa?  Well, first, from a practical perspective, if God had made two men, there could have been no children, no "reproduce and fill the earth."  And equally if He had created two women.  So, for Adam, with his duty to reproduce, the only suitable companion for him was a woman.  But let's go back to that first premise: "It is not good for man to be alone."  Now, the traditional interpretation and application of Christian doctrine on homosexuality is that, for a homosexual, he/she must necessarily remain alone, for although their suitable partner would be someone of the same gender, and, if that is morally wrong, he/she, as a Christian must refrain from acting on it.  Forever.  So, I have to ask: how can it be "good" for a gay person to forever remain alone?  Doesn't that fly in the face of that first declaration of "not good" in reference to man's isolation?  Now, Paul's teaches in Romans 1:26-27 that a man exchanging "natural" relations with a woman for "unnatural" relations with a man (and likewise, women exchanging "natural" relations with men for "unnatural" relations with each other).  The passage is clear that it is talking about someone abandoning his/her former state (i.e. heterosexuality) for one that is unnatural for him/her.  The verses preceding this passage are talking about people who previously knew God but abandoned Him to pursue worldy idols.  So, in this light, for a straight man, any straight man, of course it is inherently "unnatural" for him to have sex with another man.  But what about for a gay man?  Wouldn't it be just as "unnatural" for him to stop sleeping with his male partner and start sleeping with a woman?  For the passage is clear that the people in question were, in fact, already having relations with people of the opposite gender.  So it is arguably safe to say that these people were, according to today's terminology, straight.  Furthermore, let's look at the context surrounding this passage: Paul had just returned from Rome where he witnessed the odd sexual practices of priests and priestesses in the pagan temples.  These practices ranged from drunken orgies to sleeping with young temple prostitutes (more on this in a minute) to castrating themselves.  So he we exhorting the recipients of his letter to not be overtaken by a sexual obsession and sink into sexual depravity.  So God gave them over to the natural consequences of their obsessions.  To me, this says nothing of a lesbian woman and her life-long partner/wife (depending on the laws in their state) engaging in a healthy level of commitment, love and devotion in pursuit of honouring God comparable to a "traditional," Godly, heterosexual union.  Furthermore, the one other time that Paul uses this term "nature" is in 1 Corinthians 11 wherein Paul describes it as "unnatural" for a woman to pray with her head uncovered and for a man to have long hair.  The contexts and words used in these two passages are remarkably similar, but the way in which they are traditionally understood is markedly different.  So the terms "natural" and "unnatural," it would seem, refer to customs of the time.  It does not refer to biology or sexual orientation, but to customs and idolatry and unbridled passions.
8. Finally, and on this I want to be perfectly clear and very blunt: the word "homosexual" never appeared in the Bible until the late 1940s at the earliest.  It is now used to translate the Greek word "arsenokoitai."  This word first appears in 1 Corinthians 6:9 and again in 1 Timothy 1:10 and its translation is murky, at best.  Also appearing in these verses is another troublesome Greek word, "malokois," often translated as either "effeminate call boys" or as "male prostitutes."  The primary interpretation of the second word, "malokois" refers to young boys who were shaved clean and traded at the temple for money.  Others say that the literal interpretation of "malokois" is "soft" and refers to people who are lazy or cowardly.  Whichever may be more accurate is unclear, as this is a vague term often used in lists of general vices.  And, although the word "arsenokoitai" is hardly ever found in any of Paul's contemporary Greek literature, we can be pretty sure, from the context in which it is written, that the term refers to those people whom today's society would label "dirty old men" or, to put it more bluntly, the pedophiles who pay for sex with the "malokois."  Every other use of the term following Paul's (which is the first known use of the word) refers to some form of sexual and economic exploitation.  So this word, as best we can tell, has nothing whatsoever to do with a loving, faithful same-sex relationship.  Therefore, it would seem that Paul's condemnation of "arsenokoitai" and "malokois" is a condemnation of exploitative, sexual relationships, especially pedophilia.
9. And  my final and most crucial point comes from Matthew 19:4-5, 11-12.  These long-forgotten passages specifically affirm homosexuals who are "born that way" (yes, apparently, Jesus knew of Gaga even before Gaga existed).  In the first portion of the passage, it is Jesus' explanation of the reasons behind marriage.  He says "Have you not read that the One who made them at the beginning made them male and female... For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife and the two shall become one flesh?  Therefore, what God has joined together, let no one separate."  Jesus then allows for three exceptions to this rule, "Not everyone can accept this word, but only those to whom it has been given.  For some eunuchs because they were born that way; others were made that way by men; and others have renounced marriage because of the kingdom of heaven.  The one who can accept this should accept it."  So, what on earth is this talk of "eunuchs?"  Well, eunuchs were highly ranked but socially "deviant" men who were supposed to protect and serve the female royalty without feeling sexual or romantic attraction for them.  So, in layman's terms, the last one seems pretty simply: those who choose celibacy to serve God (Paul would probably fall into this category); those who are castrated (or otherwise made impotent at the hands of man); and those who innately do not feel sexual attraction to women.  Now, this last category could, in theory, apply to that EXTREMELY small group of people who are born without "parts," for lack of a better term.  But, because this is so incredibly rare (and it's unlikely that society even recognized this group of people during Jesus' time), it is far more likely that, here, Jesus is referring to men who are not attracted to women because they are, in fact, attracted to men.  As I already emphasized, there was no language in Jesus' time to describe homosexual orientation as we know it today, so it seems to me that Jesus expressed his affirmation of homosexual orientation in the only language that he knew how: through a seemingly obscure reference to "eunuchs" who are "born that way."  Furthermore, when this reference to "born eunuchs" is used in other writings around that time, it is associated with men who are sexually attracted to each other.  And Jesus stated that those with that orientation "should accept it."  This, to me reads that homosexuals should embrace their orientation as natural and live their lives accordingly.  Furthermore, when Phillip comes across an Ethiopian eunuch on his travels, although we do not know for sure if he was a born eunuch, it seems like a fair assumption, especially in light of his reading material (Isaiah 53's passage regarding suffering and rejection) that he was, in fact, gay, Philip does not condemn or tell him that he cannot be baptized.  Instead, he says if you believe with all your heart, you may." (See Acts 8:26-40).

I know that not everyone who reads this will "accept it."  But I ask you to at least try and understand.  Try to look past yourself, your own lack of understanding about same-sex attraction, your own traditions.  I may not be able to change anyone's minds.  But this is no longer just me spewing a political belief.  It is an apology, a call to action, a call for reformation.  I believe that revolution is coming, particularly on this issue.  It will change the church forever, and so I ask you, do you have the courage, like Martin Luther and his followers, to answer that call?  I know it's scary, and you may have to risk everything, but you are called to scrutinize teachings in light of the Bible.  And, once you have sought and found the truth, you are called to action.  And you are called to reformation.

One final word, and with this I actually am making an apology in the traditional sense of the word.  To anyone and everyone who has been hurt by the church's traditional views on sexual orientation: please know that I am so sorry and heartbroken that we, the church, have hurt and attacked and shamed you.  That is not who Jesus is.  That is not who I am.  I am sorry for every last tear, every fear, every feeling of shame and rejection.  You are not alone.  You are loved,.  You are loved for exactly who you are.  And who you are and who you love, God has declared it "very good."

Sources:
http://www.soulforce.org/
http://matthewvines.tumblr.com/
www.wouldjesusdiscriminate.org/
"For The Bible Tells Me So"
http://www.religioustolerance.org/hom_bibl.htm
http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/

The Real Reason

I just got a new tattoo, and I know that throughout my life people will ask for an explanation to these pain-stricken words: “I’m standing on the mouth of hell and it’s going to swallow me whole.  And it’ll choke on me.”

When people ask this question I know what I will tell them.  I’ll say that fighting for justice for survivors of sex crimes will place me square on the mouth of hell.  But I will beat it back.  I will stand firm.  And hell will choke on me.

And all of that’s true.  But to be honest, that’s the kosher answer.  That’s the one fit for public consumption.

I know that I won’t go into the details of the hell I stand on every day, the hell that is so much more personal.  It’s a hell that I keep hidden from all but a few.

My hell involves living every day with the knowledge that my limits will be stretched,and beaten down, and broken.  Until there’s nothing left.  Whether it’s the physical pain that I’ve dealt with every fucking day for nearly two years now; the perpetual desire to lose myself in the nothingness and numbness of self-injury, depression, and suicide; or the completely hidden parts of myself that I’m still afraid to show to all but a few.

These things are my hell.  And all of these things threaten to swallow me every fucking day.  And every day I must beat them back.  Every day I must force hell to choke on me.

And I’m not that strong.  But I do have faith.  I do know that one day I will break free.

 So I have these words perpetually etched onto my body.  Because I will stay in this fight.  I will stand firm.  And whether it’s the public battle against sex crime that will consume the rest of my life or the private wars that threaten me every day, I will triumph.  And hell will choke.

Is Imago Dei Enough?

I think I finally realized something...

Over the past several months, I've been pondering and complaining about the fact that I'm reaching my limits.  I feel like I'm being stretched, and broken down, and utterly swallowed by all of the shit flying my way.

For the longest time, it was mostly just my legs that were perpetually plagued by unsufferable bouts of nerve pain.  And I knew that God was stretching and testing my long-standing fear of paralysis.  He was definitely also testing my endurance and my overall faith, but a large part of it has just been Him asking me if I'm truly willing to give up my physical mobility for Him.  And, as painful on so many levels as it has been, I have kept saying to Him, "Here I am. Send me."  That and telling Him that I'm "All in."

As scary as all of that has been, I'm currently dealing with something that terrifies me far more than the loss of my functioning legs.  I am writer.  It's how I process the world around me and everything that I'm struggling with (hence, this blog).  Furthermore, I'm an academic.  I'm just finishing my last week of classes for my first semester of law school, and I start finals in a week and a half.  I have three 4+ hour long type-written exams.  Because I've missed so much school due to medical issues, I have a ton of reading, notes, and outlining to do to get ready for these finals.

And it's all I can do to type a half-hour worth of notes during a review session.  Taking notes on or highlighting my reading is out of the question.  I can only work on my outlines, on paper or my laptop, for maybe a half hour at a time.

I've been working on this one goddamn blog post off an on for days now.  Not because of writer's block or anything like that, but simply because typing for any length of time is excruciatingly painful.

Every flinch of every joint and muscle throughout both of my hands aches and screams in pain.  Just touching an elevator button shoots daggers up my arm.  Driving, my only real escape other than writing, is painful, and I'm getting to the point where I'm questioning the safety of me being behind the wheel when it kills to grip the steering wheel.

My entire fucking life is resting on my successful completion of this semester.  It's not like I can just delay my exams.  The day after my final exam, I go into the hospital to start the month long process to take care of these ridiculous medical issues relatively permanently (in theory).

So I just have to get through.  If I don't, how can I pursue my passion, chase my calling, and fulfill my life's mission to help bring justice and compassion to survivors of sex crimes?

Without the simple use of my hands, it could all fall apart.

And as much as I'm trying to trust and have faith and believe that it will all work out, that somehow God will pull me through this, my mind still races through the possibilities...the what ifs.

So I've been asking myself, who am I without my passion and goals?  Why would I want to remain here, on this horribly painful earth, if I literally and physically can't fight back.  If I can't stay in this fight, if I can't pursue my passion for justice, for compassion, what then?  What use am I to this world?  And, far more painful a question, who am I without this fight?

I know that, no matter what, I am imago Dei.  I am made in the very image of God, and there is no doubt intrinsic value in that fact.  But my imago Dei, the way Christ lives out through me, is in this fight!  My raison d'etre, my reason for being, my very identity rests entirely in my passion, in my life's goals, in the fight that has already consumed my heart and mind and will consume my very life.

Or is it?  Is there more to me, my identity, my imago Dei than this fight?

Is the simple intrinsic value of me, as a human, enough of a reason to keep me from giving in to the desires inside of me, perpetually bubbling just under the surface, to end my life?

In the very first post on this blog, one of the questions that served as a catalyst for these musings of mine was the idea from my philosophy class that it is morally justifiable for a person with no capacity to act in furtherance of their own life and desires to take that life (the context here was a person in a vegetative coma, or a situation similar to Million Dollar Baby).  I mused at the time that, because my value comes not from myself but from my desire to live for Christ, I would never want anyone to pull the plug on me.  I am still imago Dei and my God can and does perform miracles.

I still logically believe that same thing.  But it's a very different question when facing the possibility of total loss of functionality in all of your limbs.  When your life's work and desires, your mission from God himself rests on a certain degree of manual mobility.  Then that question of the value of life and when it is understandable to end it becomes so much more complex and painful.

On a small scale, I've realized that, even without the mobility needed to pursue all of these things, I am still loyal and compassionate.  And people need me.  And I need them.  And, for now at least, that's keeping me going.  That and the tiny scrap of faith and idea of hope that I'm still desperately clinging to.

I long to get back the conviction, drive, and utter courage in these words: "I'm standing on the mouth of hell and it's gonna swallow me whole.  And it'll choke on me."

Thank you

I can’t fully express what it means to me to reconnect with long lost friends.  But not just to reconnect.  To realize that, despite the fact that our lives have diverged and moved on and changed so much, we can still count ourselves sisters at heart, connected in more ways than can adequately be described.

It’s been a long time since someone has told me that it is, in fact, important that I keep fighting.  That simple sentiment, that notion that what I’m doing, what I’m fighting for still matters, has fanned the flame in me and driven me forward.  I no longer just want to get through this year for the sake of passing my first semester of law school.  I want to do well, I want to succeed because what I do, what I want to do matters.  Simple as that.  And it’s been far too long since I’ve been reminded of that simple fact.

But beyond the much needed encouragement and validation, I can’t quite express what it means to be able to be fully honest with someone again.  Even if I can’t say everything out loud quite yet, either due to lack of clarity and self-reflection or simply due to fear, knowing that I once again have someone that I know I can and will be able to share these things with is beyond freeing.

It gave me the courage to post what I’m feeling on this blog, even if I’m not in any way ready to explain everything I’m talking about to anyone who might ask.  The simple knowledge that I have someone by my side, willing to stand with me and back me and continually confirm that no matter what I might say or feel, I am still a powerful woman ready and willing to do important and amazing things has given me the strength that I need to take even just this small step forward.

The words “thank you” are beyond insufficient, but they are all that I have.  So that is what I will give.

Walking the Tight Rope

I’m plagued by these thoughts.  I always have been, for as long as I can remember. And for as long as I can remember, I’ve repressed every last one of them.  These thoughts will invade my dreams, both waking and sleeping, and I’ll push them aside, telling myself over and over that that person cannot be me.  That I can’t feel that way.

I justify in my mind that it’s ok for other people to feel and act on these feelings, but I judge and repress and flog and punish when it comes to me.  I complain about being forced to live up to those lofty expectations set by the organized church or by my family or even by my friends, all the while forcing myself to live out my own double standard.

I walk this fine line, tight-roping my way through questions of politics and morality, telling myself, and making some damn convincing arguments, that the two can somehow be separated.  That I can believe in the freedom of others to say and do one thing while condemning those very thoughts inside myself.

I cling to the comfort of the religious explanations and condemnations that I’ve always known, despite condemning their tone and even their proclamation.  I want one thing in my private life and another in the public sphere.  This is my desire, because such a separation makes my own twisted thoughts and longings so much easier to rationalize, to push aside, and to wipe away.

I long for a clean slate, a simpler state of being, where I don’t have to search out my own answers.  I shouldn’t have to spend longsuffering hours searching for some form of balm for the truth that I’ve always known in my heart.  I read through exposition after exposition, knowing that they more fully explain these oft quoted words of hate and pain than anything else I’ve ever heard or read, and still I tell myself that they’re not enough.  That I need something more.  Some grand gesture, some neon-light-in-the-sky revelation.

But that revelation has been and always will be a simple, small, quiet voice in my heart, telling me over and over again that love, and not condemnation is the answer.  Telling me that the one true and perfect Yahweh made me, and, at my core, who I am is a reflection of His very truth and perfection.  That nothing can taint my Imago Dei.  I have been wiped clean by the blood of the Lamb, so who I am, what I’ve always known, that is truth.  That is my revelation.  I don’t need these expositions, these arguments, this constant need for justification and validation.

But how do I finally learn to trust this truth that I’ve always known in my heart?  And, better yet, how do I actually admit to the world that I’m embracing this truth inside of me, their so-called “truths” cloaked in condemnation, hate, and lies be damned?

I’ve already ripped the veil off once before, declaring once and forevermore that I am not perfect, that I don’t have it all together.  But I still clung to those basic beliefs, no matter what my heart or even my logic and exposition said.  I wanted that comfort.  I wanted to belong.  So I claimed to agree with every tenant of the faith, even those that grated against my very soul.

I’m not ready to throw off that cloak just yet.  It’s not as much a need for that comfort anymore as it is a fear of being rejected.  I now know, and rest perfectly at ease in the knowledge and truth of the love of my family and friends.  But what of their acceptance?  They claim to give it on a synonymous basis with their love, but love and acceptance are far from equals.

So for now I remain hidden, choosing to bide my time in hopes of building my courage.  But this grating against my soul can only be suffered for so long before it must be pushed out.  And then where will I stand?

"No man, for any considerable period, can wear one face to himself, and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be true." ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne

Reaching My Limit

I'm beginning to ask myself, "Where is my limit?"

Over the past year and half, I have been dealing with a major neurological disorder that causes excruciating pain throughout my extremities.  I used to deal with this same type of pain when I was a kid, but it only lasted for a total of three months before we found an answer and a solution.  It was a grave and painful solution (brain surgery at the age of 11 usually is), but it was over.  Or so I thought.

When this all started up again last March, I declared the following:

"But I will say this much:  I'm all in.  There are no questions about that. If this is where God wants me, what He wants me to go through, I'm here.  Yes, I never thought I'd have to go through this again.  Yes, it's thrown me for a gigantic loop.  But, no, I'm not angry or upset.  I'm just here.  All in."

I said this before I knew what was really going on.  And I'm now coming to realize that I truly had no idea what I was getting myself into.  Since that first trip to the Johns Hopkins emergency room, I have been to emergency rooms across the country several times, been to dozens upon dozens of doctors appointments, and taken literally thousands of pills to try and moderate my symptoms.  After ruling out the initial theory (that my condition from when I was 11 was wreaking havoc again and so they would need to redo the original surgery), I was eventually diagnosed with elevated cerebrospinal fluid pressure  This elevated pressure is pressing against my spine, causing the aforementioned extremity pain.  The longer this goes untreated, the more the pressure on my spine increases and spreads, causing ever more excruciating pain from the tips of my fingers to my shoulders, from my hips down to my littlest toe, and, recently, into my torso and neck.

There simply aren't words to adequately describe what it's like to live in a state of near constant physical pain for 19 months and counting.  Sure, I get periodic relief from lumbar punctures, diuretics  nerve relaxants, and narcotics, but it doesn't completely go away.  At least not for long.  I don't even think I remember what it's like to walk without some degree of pain, to write an in-class exam without my hand feeling like it was dying from pain by the end, or to ride in some form of mass transportation without the alternately steady and jerking motions making my nerves go haywire.  I can't fully explain the physical, emotional, and mental toll it takes on me to have to bear this pain.

I'm surrounded by family members, friends, and even acquaintances telling me how sorry they are that I'm going through this and how much they wish they could take it all away.  Recently, it takes everything in me not to just scream at them, "Well you can't take it away, so why don't you shove your useless sympathy where the sun don't shine!!!!"

I know these people mean only to express love and solidarity through their platitudes.  I get it.  I've done the same thing when I'm in their shoes, witnessing someone forced to go through some horribly painful experience alone.

And that's just the thing: I am alone in this.  There's not a single person in the world that can actually lift the burden of this pain off of my shoulders.  No one else has to suffer under the crushing weight of having no guaranteed end in sight.  No one else knows what it's like to regret pursuing their own passion and calling in life because the burden they are carrying will almost certainly cause them to falter and fail.

Back before I declared myself "All in," I did attempt to contemplate the ramifications of that commitment.  I ended that blog post with this:

 "How much is required? He [God] answers: 'Everything, because I gave even more.'"


With everything that is happening to me, I've been contemplating human limits, and I've been wondering about my breaking point.  You see, what I'm afraid to admit to anyone is that I feel like I'm cracking.  Like after all of these many months, I'm finally breaking apart; I fear that I'm reaching my limit.

But here's the thing: Jesus came here as a man.  And the night before He was to be arrested, tried, and summarily and brutally executed, He was weak.  In the garden of Gethsemane, Jesus prayed to His own Father to take this burden off of His shoulders.  Jesus thought that He was at His breaking point.  So He asked to get out.

God denied His Son's request.

So Jesus went forward.  And in those final moments, after enduring all of that brutality, after taking every ounce of physical, emotional, and mental pain the world (and God) could throw at Him, Jesus breathed His last.  And I can't help but ask, how did Jesus, instead of whispering, "Into Your hands I commit my Spirit," not scream, "Fuck you, God, you bastard!!"

But, no, Jesus did not scream obscenities at God.  Despite thinking that He was at His limit in Gethsemane, Jesus never reached His limit on Calvary.  He made it through, and thus saved us all.

And yet Jesus, despite being the Son of God, was completely human.  And every human has his or her limits.  So where was Jesus' limit, if not on Calvary?  Do limits only come through sin, because that doesn't make a whole lot of sense.  But I digress...

Everyone has his or her limits.  I know that I have them.  I may not be completely self-aware as to where they lie, but I know that there are points past which I cannot be pushed without breaking, without cracking wide open and losing the wholeness of who I am.

Through all of this, I'm not doubting God's sovereignty, his love, or any of His other amazing qualities that I've grown ever more in love with over the years.  But I do doubt myself.  I doubt that I can last much longer, and I doubt that I'll be able to find any point in any of this if it ever does come to an end.

And I think what I hate most of all is that I am doubting that God will stop all of this before I truly have reached my limit.  I'm worried that, in the end, I'll be cursing the name of the very God that I love so much, having reached my limit, broken apart, and lost whole segments of who I am, including my faith.