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Primitive religion is not believed, it is danced!

Arthur Darby Nock

Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God;
And only he who sees takes off his shoes;
The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.

Elizabeth Browning



Sunday, September 15, 2024

Taking back the faith

I woke up thinking about the cross

I wear one

Small and worn

Purchased in an ancient cathedral on a rainy English day

 

We preach “Christ crucified”

“Pick up your cross and follow me”

 

How did they feel, those early followers

Who had seen the beloved die

Leaving behind bile and bloodstains

How did they feel about the cross

 

It was an instrument of terror.

A tool of tyrants

Used to intimidate, punish, and control

 

No wonder they used a fish

As a symbol of faith

“Be ye fisherpeople,” drawing people to God’s love

 

But then came the unlovely cross

Which shouted love and sacrifice

A giving up

A dying

 

And then the cross was transformed.

As the church was transform

From motley clusters of people preaching love

Relegated to the fringe

Out

To an instrument of the state

 

And slowly the cross too

Became a symbol once again of empire

A tool of the powerful

To intimidate, control, and punish

An instrument of terror

 

It was emblazoned on shields.

Carried by intense zealots in front of armies

Burned on lawns

Crusaders, conquistadors, and clansmen

Appropriating it

Jesus wanted to transform the world

More than conquer it

To fill it with love and peace

Lion and lamb, child and adder

 

But here we are

Crosses draped in flags

Adorning massive pickups

Showing up where hate is preached

And empire

 

Poor cross

 

My faith is not weak, or soft

I believe in the power of Sacred

And the power of love

And in the power of letting go, and giving

 

I believe that when Jesus said “Take up your cross and follow”

He was talking about expending one’s self for others

Giving one’s all for love

 

Even if that means selling all one has and giving it

To Haitian refugees in Ohio

Or that woman hugging her child on the border to Mexico

 

Even if that means turning the other cheek

 

I want the cross to remind me that “blessed are the meek”

And that justice and equity are more important than coercive power

And that people are more important than money

And that my faith is never, ever, ever to become a tool

Of empire

 

I want the cross back.


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