AnnieModify

Jesus was anti-racist, anti-sexist, anti-classist, anti-ableist, anti-religious, and anti-violence. He was pro-welfare, treated women as equals, and refused to pass judgment on people’s sexual choices. He was very protective of children. He did not have any opinions about abortion. 

I don’t qualify as a Christian anymore, and haven’t for a long time, but I grew up in the church and I took the Bible very, very seriously.  I read the Bible daily. Read the whole thing cover to cover a few times. I studied it, meditated on it, memorized passages. When I was a believer, I was an earnest believer. I cared about what the Bible said and wanted to understand what it meant for me, as a person, and how I should live my day-to-day life.

Jesus said, "Anyone who loves me will obey my teaching."

As I witness the rise of Christianese in our political culture — specifically, as I witness the use of Christian terminology to defend illegal, inhumane, and immoral behaviors — I feel that we all need a mini-refresher course on the actual teachings of Jesus. 

Things Jesus taught:

✅ Love your neighbor as yourself.  (Who is your neighbor? Those in need of your help. See The Parable of the Good Samaritan.)
✅ Love your enemies.
✅ Forgive others.
✅ Do not judge others.
✅ Do not worry.
✅ Do unto others as you would want done to you.
✅ Be a servant of all.
✅ Be a peacemaker.
✅ Do not resist an evildoer; instead, turn the other cheek, i.e. voluntarily give more than has been taken from you.
✅ Feed the hungry, help the stranger, care for the sick and imprisoned.
✅ Sell your possessions so you can give more to the poor.
✅ Do not store up treasures on earth. 
✅ Humble yourself and be like little children.
✅ Have mercy on those who cannot pay their debts.
✅ Blessed are the meek and the merciful. 
✅ Rejoice when you are insulted, reviled, or falsely accused. 
✅ All people are equal, and God is no “respector of persons. “ (i.e. God does not acknowledge or care about classes, genders, categorizations but about the heart. Jesus specifically named the equality of free & slave, male & female, rich & poor which was very much not cultural norm at the time. Pretty radical.)

Things Jesus did NOT teach:

🚫 Defend your right to own guns.
🚫 Defend your personal property.
🚫 Defend your freedom.
🚫 Defend your rights at all!
🚫 That women are inferior to men; in fact, he taught and demonstrated the opposite.
🚫 That children are inferior to or less valuable than adults; in fact, he taught the opposite and issued severe, eternal threats towards people who mistreat children or put them in harm’s way.
🚫 That it’s okay to treat people inhumanely if they are illegal immigrants.
🚫 That it’s okay to hate and/or threaten people who are different than you.
🚫 To create a religious nation so you can require others to live the way you think they should. In fact, Jesus said: "My kingdom is not of this world."
🚫 To remove aid, resources, and help from the sick, poor, disabled, mentally ill, or imprisoned if it will benefit your personal financial position.
🚫 To concern yourself with other people's sexual choices. In fact, Jesus refused to pass judgment on a woman caught in adultery.
🚫 Anything at all about abortion.

I don't believe in hell, but if I did, I'd be pondering this passage in particular:

The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.’

They also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?’ He will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’
— Matthew 25:40-45

Here is a surefire way to figure it out. Or close enough, I guess.

One time when Lily was still quite young but past the regular napping stage, she was having a very rough day. Hence, we were all having a rough day. So I told her she needed a nap, and laid down on the bed with her. In a muffled little squeaky sob she said, “I don’t need a nap, Mommy. I just need to cry. I haven’t cried in a while. I’ve been trying to make it all good times, all the time. But I need to cry.”

It can’t be good times, all the time.

So, when you face the no-guarantees choice. The risky move. The should-I-or-shouldn’t-I decision with no clear answer. The pro and con list that keeps balancing out. The options that cannot be optimized. The situation with no resolution. The parade of tiny variables. The panicky feeling that any choice you make is a wrong one.

When you’re there…

You have to go with something deeper. Some deeper knowing. A pull. A tug. A hum.

And a good cry helps you hear it.

A good cry clears the air.

A good cry produces enough snot and tears to mix with all the bullshit filling up your mind and it forms little snot-bullshit balls and they come right out (this is SCIENCE, don’t question it) and then suddenly you can see things you couldn’t see before.

OR, sometimes,

Nothing is clearer but you get really tired from your good cry, so instead of deciding you take a nap and let things handle themselves. You let whatever-it-is have some time to work itself out.

And that is a decision, anyway, and maybe

Maybe

It’s a really good one.

I like them a lot. 

I was really just a child myself when I had them. So young, knowing nothing. I was 25 when my oldest was born. I turned 30 a month after my youngest was born.

Having four kids in five years is a life choice that may not be what we’d consider, um, wise. But here we are, almost twenty years into it, and I look at these kids who grew up with me, who taught me how to grow up, who loved me through my fumbling, who still love me through my fumbling, and I cannot imagine a better version than this one. 

These kids, my kids — who are not really kids anymore — they’ve been through a lot. They’ve dealt with complex stuff, with scary things, with big changes, with huge challenges. They’ve already learned a lot about life. Some of those lessons I would have delayed, if I could have. But they’ve taken them in and become kinder and wiser.

I still have to remind them to do their chores. 

And wipe the counters after they make a snack. 

I feel really lucky. 

That’s all. 

Halfway through May, but whatever. Here are the books I read last month. Sex and poetry, basically. I don’t know. 

Woman Hating by Andrea Dworkin

Dworkin’s writing is spare, direct, clean. I love it. She laid out in one chapter what Pinkola Estes took ~300 pages to do (I only made it halfway through WWRWTW). I was nodding and yes-ing and wow-ing and grimacing and nodding. It’s one of those books where you have to periodically sit back and just stare into space for a few minutes.

Her conclusions in the last section (Androgyny) lost me. I’m good with the premise: the dual male/female structure is harmful and leads inevitably to conflicts and power struggles and entrapment within corresponding roles; to escape this dualism we need to embrace an androgynous mythology and restructure our society accordingly. Exactly what (all) this embracing and restructuring requires — ah, no. Perhaps she was endorsing bestiality and incest to make a point, I don’t know. If you have some pointers on this, please point me at ‘em.

Overall a book well worth reading. Graphic descriptions of lots of things, so beware if that’s an issue.

Be sure to read the afterword: The Great Punctuation Typography Struggle.

The Art of Memoir by Mary Karr

My second read through this book. Good again. Skimmed several chapters.

Quarter Share, Half Share, and Full Share by Nathan Lowell

I really enjoyed Quarter Share. I loved Lowell’s books about Tanyth and was happy to find the same type of writing in these. Half Share left me a bit weirded out. The whole idea of all these older (not at all old, but significantly older than the protagonist) women falling desperately in lust/love over this 19 year old kid because he gets a new outfit? I’m oversimplifying a bit, fine; the outfit was signifying his own growth and confidence, etc. etc. etc. But it’s still unbelievable. Reads like someone’s personal fantasy. I’m not here to fantasy shame but that’s also not what I’m here to read.

To be clear, the book never gets into graphic sex scenes. There’s a lot of talk (also not graphic), innuendoes and whatnot, as well as some “fade-out while the sax plays in the background” moments.

I hung in there because I like the characters and was hoping that we’d get through this awkward stage. It continued through Full Share but there was some resolution, so, I dunno. I’ll probably try the next book in the series because I really do like Lowell’s writing but if the intense sexual attraction that literally every woman seems to feel for our guy continues, I’ll be out.

Want by Gillian Anderson

Speaking of sex and fantasies: that’s what this book is all about. Sexual fantasies submitted anonymously, collected by none other than Gillian Anderson. It’s usually not interesting to see what the famous do beyond the things they are famous for. I find this choice quite interesting.

The book is precisely what it says it is: sexual fantasies, from vague and graphically detailed. They’re sorted into categories with a brief introduction to each section. The style varies wildly, of course, since it’s submissions from many different women. Some really beautiful writing in there.

Devotions: The Selected Poems of Mary Oliver 📚

After many months of being my bedside book, this one is moving out of Current status. But the truth is you’re never really finished reading poetry. I’ll revisit often.

What a gift that Oliver’s beautiful way of observing, speaking can be given home in my mind.

The Room in the Attic by Louise Douglas 📚

Easy read. Enjoyable. Mysteries, some ghosties, friendship, a little messing about with time. I often get annoyed when books alternate between time periods but this one was well-done . I’ll keep the author on my list for more easy reads.

At the Stroke of Midnight by Jenni Keer

Cute.

The opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it’s indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it’s indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it’s indifference.

—Elie Wiesel

I don’t think this one needs any explanation. But I will provide some anyway because this is my site and I do what I want.  

Let’s define this term:

a. A neutral stance is a posture to take for certain activities to help you avoid injury. Great!

b. A neutral stance is a position of having no preference; not choosing a side in a dispute or fight.

Synonyms for neutral: disinterested, nonaligned, uncommitted, aloof, detached, impersonal, inert, vague, vanilla, indistinguishable, indifferent.

Two friends are arguing about the best flavor of ice cream. 

Friend 1: “The best flavor is obviously chocolate.”

Friend 2: “Of course not. The best flavor is butter pecan.” 

Both friends turn to you: “Hey, buddy, you decide. What’s the best flavor?”

You: “Oh no, I’m not getting involved. I’m staying neutral. This is between you two.” 

This an appropriate use of a neutral stance. 

Why? It’s fucking ice cream. It doesn’t matter. The options are purely preferential, and there’s no real effect if either flavor is declared the best. 

Two friends are arguing about the best way to improve traffic flow in a congested part of their town, which you are visiting. 

Friend 1: “The best approach is to put in a traffic light. That four-way stop is the real issue.”

Friend 2: “Really, a roundabout would be better and keep the traffic flowing.” 

Both friends turn to you: “Hey, pal, what do you think? What’s your position?”

You: “Well, I really don’t know enough about your town or the traffic or this particular intersection to have an opinion. I’d need to learn more. So at this point, I’m neutral.” 

This is an appropriate use of a neutral stance. 

Why? This problem has multiple potential solutions with minor differences. It requires in-depth knowledge to make a call on which solution would be most effective. 

Two friends are arguing about whether women should have access to healthcare, or whether every person deserves due process, or whether trans people should get equal rights.

Friend 1: “Well I think that not every person should have the same rights I have.”

Friend 2: “What? That’s ridiculous. Of course every person should have the same rights.” 

Both friends turn to you: “Hey — what do you think?”

You: “Ehhhhh. I’m not gonna pick a side here. Staying neutral.” 

This is an inappropriate use of a neutral stance. 

Why? When a dispute involves the real or potential oppression of people, neutrality is not a real option. 

We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.

—Elie Wiesel

Renewal: It is the breath or the pause between breaths. It is the step or the poised, gathered energy between steps. It is never an ending: it is a beginning, or it is the wink in time, the pause in space, before the next beginning.

Moments come with such promise, such potential, then stutter to a halt, stillborn or unborn. Or not yet ready for birth.

In the moment, you don’t know: is this coming or going? Ending or beginning? Dying or developing into something viable and vivid, something more alive than life itself?

Because what is it?

The words you feel but do not speak.

The grandeur you see but cannot — not in a million years of words or pictures or songs and dances — ever come close to understanding, incorporating, celebrating in a way worthy of what it is.

The glory and possibility, the beauty and heartbreak, of that mountain, this tree, that choked-up voice, this half-stifled laugh.

What is it?

What is coming, what is going? What is over, and what is just beginning?

The engine revs and dies. The ball starts rolling down the hill, then gets caught in a tangle of tree roots. Things start and end in the space of a single breath.

Or so it seems, anyway.

So it seems. The waves crest and subside but hold on, hold on. Here’s that analogy again. The current underneath keeps flowing.

It keeps on flowing, no matter what begins or ends on the surface.

If you think you’ve lost skill, or vision, or creativity, or talent, or desire, or the ability to come up with ideas, you’re wrong. You haven’t. You can’t go backwards. Ever. No matter what.

It’s not up to you. This is the pattern: a cycle of birth, growth, fruiting out; then withdrawal, stillness — a kind of rest that feels like death —; then, regeneration. Birth again. A new creative birth. It’s always forward movement.

There’s a place, however, that feels like going backwards. You’ve been there before, and you’ll be there again.

Usually, for me, it’s the period right before that point of withdrawal and stillness. That phase is full of pain. You’re ceasing, you’re slowing, the cycle’s fruitfulness is ending — but you haven’t yet reached the point of letting go, of entering rest. It feels like waste and wandering. It is the desert for 40 years. It is when you question yourself and hate everything you’ve done. It won’t last.

You are creating, and you are being created. Let the cycle continue as it will, and try not to believe the feelings when they whisper death in your ear. You can’t go backwards. 

Everywhere, listen: the tiniest of invitations. The slightest of whispers. Because it is almost invisible does not make it unreal.

How much more real is a mountain than a molecule?

What we see on the surface is an edge of the thing, a glimpse of it.

Sun sparking and sparkling on water. The sun and the water do not cease to exist between flashes. Wait. Give it a moment. The wave reaches up as the sun reaches down and here it is: the connection, the flash, the spark.

Is that moment a beginning or an ending?

It is the breath or the pause between breaths. It is the step or the poised, gathered energy between steps.

I don’t know what it is — the essence of the thing, the meaning of it — but I know what it is not. It is never an ending: it is a beginning, or it is the wink in time, the pause in space, before the next beginning.