Showing posts from August, 2017

careful | care full

When men gather under the guise of clarifying scripture
     to confine the creative mercy of God

When those inside the box make demands
     of those beyond plain categories

When disciples draw lines in the sand
     assuming Jesus stands beside them in division

When people of faith claim that scripture requires
     identity denied and justice misallocated

When religious leaders corner a market on what is biblical
     contorting the beautiful mysteries of God's image

When some in power demand that others without
     normalize as though dignity is a scarce or sly

When God formed the first humans from dust and bone,
     images of God called very good, but not everything or perfection
Care Full.

When God worked for good through all kinds of
     broken and blessed relationships throughout scripture
Care Full.

When God moves through the timeless snares of sexual violence and economy
    to declare delight, value, and belonging…

the children.

Last August I found myself in a conversation about race and skin color with my five year old. We were reading the children's book "The Skin You Live In", marveling at the many ways to be beautiful.  He asked why there are so many different colors of people. Probably because we have a very creative God who knows how to make beauty lots of different ways. We are all holy and worthy of the same love because we all look like God. 

I was so tempted to stop here, only describing the palate of color and not the weaponized brushes we've used to paint evil and division, the many ways we've always been at war with God's own image. But it was high time. If I protect my son from the truth about racism because I think he's too young, that's my privilege copping out. Every black and brown baby heading to Kindergarten would already know something about racism because their families don't have the luxury of putting it off.

Do you think God has a favorite color of …


I've been watching people church shop every Sunday for 11 years. So we'll call this "easily inspired fiction". 

You notice the parking signs for visitors the pollinator-friendly gardens baskets half filled for the food pantry the paint chipping on the widow sills the silk flowers on the bathroom counter.
It matters, the space that greets you  while you stomp snow from your feet or you move your sunglasses from your eyes atop your head. Do need to navigate hallways and offices or are you thrust nervously into a narrow narthex?
The hunt is on.
The people notice you with affection, warmth, and curiosity or desperation, skepticism, and fatigue or not at all.
Writing in a dusty guestbook would be like signing up for spam mail. The edge of your sticky name tag begins to curl, appalled by your shirt. You considered writing,  "Settle down, we're just visiting" or a pseudonym. 
Your children are sized up the nursery is eagerly suggested while they cling to your l…