Lupus?! A wha dat?!

Just another emcee who gets free. Vessel of philanthropic vision fueled by theophilic purpose.

Category: walking in forgiveness

I’m hurt. I think I’ve always been.

I’m hurt. I think I’ve always been.

It first hit me when I was singing on the choir. The Children of Hope were a main attraction every Sunday. We stood in our robes, the pride of our parents’ eyes. One Sunday another child asked me, “Where’s your Dad?” I knew he wasn’t there but never thought about why.

I first spoke to my father on the phone at the age of five. I remember the conversation was brief; he told me not to take orders from any woman. Years later, I learned that our conversation was followed by my grandmother telling him about himself, “Yuh wutless!” she cried. I hope it’s not hereditary.

Every birthday, in spite of my mother’s best, oscillated between bubbling sadness and a fight against solemnity. Happiness was slippery. Accomplishments were punctuated by the absence.

Middle school taught me the importance of appearances. I learned to say my parents were separated even though they never married. I fashioned my father as a farmer, man of the people, whose agrarian will and political mind would usher in a new era in the postcolonial world.

In eighth grade he sent me fifty dollars a few times. Each time I felt rich and allowed myself to have pride. We would speak on the phone frequently, conversations ending abruptly when the credit ran out. I finally met him in person that summer, spending the whole day together, laughing with both parents, feeling complete.

I would not see him again until the summer I turned sixteen. I met so many people, good friends of his, who were surprised he had a son. I left Jamaica and was sure that this was going to be our new normal. Phone calls were frequent but still ended abruptly. He visited the next summer when I graduated high school. I realized the depth of my grandmother’s love when she behaved herself and sat next to him at my graduation dinner.

College would be another silent period in our relationship. He was always on my mind. Every accomplishment, any moment of success, filled with the reminder that he was not there.

I would not see him until I got married and I have not seen him since. Life moments have brought us together. We had a good run of phone calls after I nearly died. He called a couple times after my son was born. I had a lot of hope that my own fatherhood would make us closer, give us something else to talk about. Admittedly, becoming a father has made me angry. A younger me made excuses for him but now his negligence is unbelievable. I look at my son and think, “How could anyone not do this?” How could anyone feel the weight of responsibility and not press in? The thoughts spill my rage.
I don’t like to think about this often, much less talk about it. I worry that no matter how right I am, my silence is unforgiving. So I pray. “Lord, I’m hurting. I think I’ve always been.”

Forgiving Trump

  
Photo by Gage Skidmore/Huffington Post

Now I don’t normally want to talk about Trump because I consider his contributions nothing more than the dregs of our society. To call him a scoundrel is saddeningly as controversial as an announcement that water is still wet. To be honest I am enjoying his success in the political arena because it is an indictment on the country. White supremacy dies once Americans acknowledge our complicity. Systemic racism does not exist because of “them”, it exists because of “us.” (I mean, it’d be nice to just blame this all on white people–slow down respectability politics, I am not agreeing with you–but Ben Carson, Clarence Thomas and every other person of color who lets their self-hatred shine shows that white supremacy, ironically, is an equal opportunity employer.)

I first noticed this Trump video a few weeks ago and it made me pity him. In the video, Donald is asked if he has ever asked God for forgiveness and he is demonstrably uncomfortable. He speaks about how folks are often surprised to learn he is religious and then waxes poetically about his late pastor, name dropping his book, and reminisicing about how captivating said pastor’s sermons were.

The interviewer does not let him off the hook. The audience laughs at this show of authority and Trump eventually admits that he has never asked God for forgiveness. He assumes that his effort and desire to do better next time should suffice, or maybe even the elements of bread and wine at communion get the job done. 

Trump’s answer is perfect to me. It encapsulates the errors of human pride in a wonderful way. Here we have a man who regularly displays misogyny, racism and an utter disregard for others. 

(Two dope TV ideas: Iyanla needs to bring Trump and Rosie O’Donnell on “Fix My Life”. Like why is he so mad? Unlike other targets of his misogyny, his barbs come with the kind of intimacy birthed from a destroyed friendship. Why you so mad Donnie?! 

2. I want this whole campaign to be an episode of Unsung with special guest narrator, Herman Cain.)

With Trump I see a man who reminds me of the judge in the parable of the persistent widow (One who “did not fear God nor regard man” Luke 18:1-8). Trump tries to use his privilege and sidestep the conversation entirely. But name dropping a pastor cannot save you. Trump then talks about his own efforts, “to do better next time”, but this only exposes his misdiagnosis. The offense we each commit against God is far more severe than a misunderstanding. Perhaps when I offend you, I can strive to learn from that mistake and do better next time. But sin’s stains run deep. And no matter how much we endeavor, no matter how much we hope to learn from our mistakes, it is a complete waste unless we ultimately encounter our futility. How we cannot clean our own hands. How desperately we are in need of a Saviour. 

Trump proverbially enters the right building but is on the wrong floor when he speaks about communion. His description of communion turns it into a work of righteousness which sells the sacrament short. If communion is a mere work, the heavy lifting is done by us. After all, we are the ones who go to church. We are the ones who take the bread. We are the ones who take the wine. Yet communion is much more than that. It encapsulates what the Christian life is, participating in the life of Christ. The focus cannot and never should be on what we do (which if we are honest, is not much). One enters into the Christian life at the edge of one’s futility (“God, be merciful to me a sinner!” Luke 18:13) but one matures through worshiping God in Spirit and in truth (John 4:23). Trump, like all of us, must get dissatisfied with his own works. Lose the love he has for his own ability to make a way. This walk is not about showing God how well you are trying; we get nowhere until we humbly admit we can’t. 

Cleaning My Lens

The second sermon I delivered this summer while interning at All Souls Presbyterian Church. 

Chris Burton

7.13.2014

All Souls Presbyterian Church

Cleaning My Lens (Romans 8:1-11)

 

There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. (Romans 8:1, ESV)

 

I’m a creature of habit. Once I get something I like I usually stick with it. I might have five favorite restaurants in town but that would mean I just get five different meals. I’ve been buying a clean version of the same sneaker for over a decade now. I’ve got other shoes that I like but always want a pair of crisp Nike Cortez in my rotation. My mom has been trying to get me to buy a new phone for a year now. It has a slight, very fine crack on the screen but it doesn’t bother me so I haven’t gotten it replaced. Even these glasses! I have had them for three years now, which is no good, but I like them and haven’t been straining my eyes too much so changing them has not been as much of a priority as it should be. Truth be told, I would not even have them if it weren’t for my time as a middle school basketball coach where one of my point guards obliterated an older pair during practice. They looked a lot like these and I’d probably still be peering over them to this day.

 

So yes, I confess, I get attached. I like what I like and I’m sure that I have developed a formidable resistance to change. This is not always good. Routines can afford us stability, and stability is socially acceptable but what do we do when said routine is a bit more constricting than mere stability? What do we do when we get stuck?

 

Our faults, our shortcomings, our sin, our shame. All these conspire within us, trapping us in a perverse cycle. We say things we wish we did not say, we do things that we know we ought not to do.

 

Last week we heard Rev. Keyes illustrate the inner turmoil using the apostles’ words. “For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.” (Romans 7:15, ESV) Paul articulates the war that rages inside of us all. Knowing better and doing better aren’t always a packaged deal. Our actions can betray us. No matter how disciplined we are, and successful we have become, we are all susceptible to failure.

 

As much as I am moved by the poem Invictus, my relationship with Jesus Christ calls me to thoroughly disagree with the last stanza.

“It matters not how strait the gate,

     How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate,

     I am the captain of my soul.” 

I pray that I may never desire to be the master of my fate. I’ve tried it my way and have proven myself unqualified for the job. I have come to find no profit in being the captain of my soul.

 

Paul’s letter is good news for all us. You may not fashion yourself to be a creature of habit but the truth is, living life on our own terms is a recipe for failing habitually. Submitting ourselves to the lordship of Jesus Christ is an acknowledgment that we have no business being captain.

 

Let us look at Verses 3 and 4 once more:

 

For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do. By sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin,[c] he condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.

 

Recently I began asking God to equip me to demonstrate the fruits of the Spirit daily. Galatians 5:22-23 tell us that the fruits of the Spirit are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. (Galatians 5:22-23, ESV) It has been said that “The fruits of the Spirit, or effects of sanctification, which are begun in us, do not ingraft us into Christ, but declare that we are grafted into him.” 

 

There is nothing you or I can do to earn God’s love. There is no hope for us in and of ourselves. Our hope is in Christ. The kindness that we demonstrate, the love that we have, any and all of the fruits of the Spirit are there as evidence of the work God is doing in us. In my preparation I encountered this quote from William Barclay that resonates, “Because of what Jesus did, there opens out to the Christian a life no longer dominated by the flesh but by the Spirit of God, which fills a man with a power not his own. The penalty of the past is removed and strength for his future is assured.” (Barclay, William. The Letter to the Romans (Revised Edition) Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1975 p.103)

Forgiving yourself because you have been forgiven. Step out of the shade of shame and walk in the Son’s light.

Bitterness can corrupt. I remember praying for God to give me forgiveness. I knew that I was at risk of phoniness, in danger of proclaiming a hollow gospel if I did not walk in forgiveness. I prayed for forgiveness so much that it became a part of my daily routine. From time to time I would imagine dry soil, almost like red clay and I’d see a tiller pulling up that soil, breaking its hardness. And I would see this image again and again. I didn’t correlate the two, my prayer and my vision until much later but I am confident that I am able to demonstrate forgiveness because of the good work that the Lord has done in me. Matthew Henry once noted that “By the Spirit the law of love is written upon the heart, and though the righteousness of the law is not fulfilled by us, yet, blessed be God, it is fulfilled in us.” I am free to walk in forgiveness because of the Spirit that dwells in me.

 

I believe that forgiveness is a central component of our faith. Through Christ we have been forgiven. How can we follow Him and not extend forgiveness toward others? I have no doubt that it is a process, a journey too arduous to complete on our own. But I am even more confident that it is one we can complete through yielding to the Spirit and forfeiting any claims to the captaincy of our lives.

 

We’ve heard the story from our Old Testament reading several times and it never stops amazing me to hear of Esau’s forgiveness.

 

Esau stands with Joseph, the prodigal son’s father and Our Father who chose to show solidarity instead of shame.

 

Living a life free from the burden of our failures isn’t done by might, nor by power, but by the Spirit of the Lord.

 

Let us seek the Father daily. Ask for the Spirit to till our hearts and nourish us so that we bear the fruit that is pleasing in God’s sight.

 

In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, Amen.

 

 

Brian Mooney

Educator, Scholar, Author

NBA.com | Hang Time Blog

The official news blog of NBA.com with commentary and analysis from NBA.com's staff of writers.

thenerdsofcolor

Pop Culture with a Different Perspective

Love Dance Hall

Feel the riddim.

Decolonize ALL The Things

The UNsettling reflections of a Decolonial Scientist in a Constant State of Rage

WhoSampled.com Blog

Exploring the DNA of Music

Lupus?! A wha dat?!

Just another emcee who gets free. Vessel of philanthropic vision fueled by theophilic purpose.

Mihee Kim-Kort

Pastor. Mother. Writer. Itinerant. Hopemonger.

Jayson D. Bradley

Honest to God

HIP Literary Magazine

A great WordPress.com site

Soli Deo Gloria

Follower of Jesus Christ. Disciple. Husband. Clemson Alum. Living life in light of eternity.

David Mura · Secret Colors

Writer :: Speaker :: Performer :: Teacher

Mommy CEO

Working and living the Mommy CEO life!

Aloha Got Soul

Rare and relatively unknown music of Hawaii

Pro Bono Pastor

Totally free thoughts from a lawyer turned pastor

Not The Former Things

motherhood, special needs, and the beauty of everyday messes

Fix-It With Fran

All Things Faith, Family, Food, Fun and more!

%d bloggers like this: