FB Reflection: Holy anger

Good Sunday morning, comrades in the struggle to stay on The Way. It's a lovely morning here but it is only 43 degrees. My mood, however, is a closer match to the cold than the bright sunshine that Mother Nature is providing.

I know. It's Sunday. I'm headed off to church. I should really get my act together. But, I'm frustrated. I feel like Jesus in this morning's gospel. The disciples are busy oohing and aahing over the large stones and Jesus is trying to get them to focus on what is and what is to come.

My heart is breaking after yet another conversation with another gay or trans friend who is planning to leave the country because they are so afraid of what will happen. This is especially so for my trans friends who fear that they will not be able to get their medication, but are more afraid of the violence that will soon increase, putting their very lives in danger.

I am angry about those friends of mine who caution me about my anger, who are made uncomfortable by it, who want me to "calm down" and "spend some time in quiet".

As if I haven't.

I think I'm most upset by the very noble posts on FB, made mostly by white men and some women of privilege, who post memes about being kind and having empathy or write lofty prayers about having our will bent to the will of God.

I always get a bit nudgy when the language of "my will bending to God's will" gets trotted out. In my experience, it's never about God's will but the writer's understanding or expectation about what God's will is which he seems to know precisely what that is for me, which is pretty much that I "behave" in a way that stops making him nudgy.

So, in my morning meditation, I searched for a few minutes to find Audre Lorde's book. I always find great comfort and affirmation and inspiration in "Sister Outsider". I've posted three of my favorite quotes, but I think the one that speaks most clearly to me this morning is:

"I can not hide my anger to spare your guilt, nor hurt feelings, nor answering anger; for to do so trivializes all our efforts."

An image keeps returning to me of an old woman I met in the Cardiac Unit at Mass General Hospital when I was doing my second unit of CPE in seminary.

She was Roman Catholic and, in Boston, we were not allowed by hospital policy, to see any Roman Catholic patients. So, I was talking to the patient in the bed next to her when her priest came in. He was a fairly corpulent cleric, all full of cheer and "joy in the Lord."

"Hey, Mary," he called. "How are we doing?"

"Well, Father," she said, "I'm going to have open heart surgery. They tell me they are going to crack my chest and that I'll be in a fair amount of pain after. So, you know, I'm pretty scared."

"Scared?" the good Father roared, "no need to be scared. Have a little faith, Mary! God will be with you. Here, now I'll say a prayer and give you communion."

And, he did and then left in the same swirl of "joy in the Lord" in which he arrived.

The woman sat in her bed, weeping softly. My patient looked at me and said, "Go to her."

I knew I was breaking the rule. I knew I could have been "written up" for my "behavior". I knew the incident could be reported to my bishop and the Commission on Ministry.

My head knew all that but my heart informed my feet to move and I found myself over at Mary's bedside. "Well, that was quite something, wasn't it?" I asked qently. "You okay?"

She smiled and looked deep into my eyes and said, "Well, the good news is that, as afraid as I am, I'm not half as afraid as him."

"Ah," said I, "let's talk about being afraid."

And, for the next half hour, we did, my Protestant patient joining in the conversation with Mary and me so I wouldn't be in so much trouble.

Mary's words give me a bit of an insight into my siblings’ intense need to tell us about "quiet" and "calm" and "bending our will to God's will" and "empathy".

They're talking to themselves. They're saying what they need to hear for themselves. Understanding that, I can find empathy. For them. Not for those who delight in oppressing me, or sticking their finger in my wound, or shrug their shoulders about the obscenity of the incoming administration's cabinet because, well, you know, "the economy will be better".

I have empathy for the oppressors because I know, as James Baldwin taught, that prejudice, bigotry and race hatred may harm the body of its targets, it also rots the soul of the oppressor.

So, I'm just going to take my pissed-off self to church this morning and ask God to bless my anger and help me to find a channel for it to "make some noise" and "make some good trouble, some necessary trouble".

I'm going to pray for the wisdom and courage to follow The Way of Jesus, especially as I see him respond to the disciples' "Idolatry of the Stones" by not backing down and not giving up on his vision of what is and what will be.

He stays focused. God help me stay focused and not be deterred, even by my own anger and frustration.

Help me to discern and listen more closely to your voice rather than the well-intentioned voices that ask me to listen to them.

Help me to know that my anger is a holy gift.

It is the divine spark to challenge evil.

It is the energy to bring about change.

It is the vehicle to find hope.

In other words, I'm going to take care of myself in the best way I know how: To bring my whole self before the altar of God and ask God to bless me and my integrity and my authenticity and help me be more of myself and more of the person God created me to be.

I hope something good happens to you today.

Bom dia.