Prophecy & Hip Hop

***This piece will be featured in a local, independent rag. FYI.***

Prophecy & Hip Hop

By: Rev. Emily Joye McGaughy

February 17, 2011

Disclaimer

I want to talk about the intersection of prophecy and Hip Hop but first need to get some technical stuff out of the way. I am a trained theologian, which means I’ve been resourced to see, name and support the movement of God in the world. It is from this training and resourced-lens that I see Hip Hop as the primary prophetic movement of/in our time. I do not claim to be an expert on Hip Hop but I do see divinity there and that’s what I am hoping to convey in this piece of social commentary.

Prophecy: Tradition and Problems

The Judeo-Christian tradition is a diverse religious movement with many historical, literary, cultural and institutional expressions. One of those expressions is prophecy.

Judeo-Christian prophecy has historical and geographic roots in the Ancient Near East which was the context for early Israelite prophets such as Amos, Ezekiel, Isaiah and Jesus of Nazareth. The aforementioned prophets were speaking to persons, crowds, institutions and the empires of their day. Their prophetic works are located in the books of the Hebrew Bible and New Testament. Many of us know these prophets and their words/works. But many of us—religious and non-religious alike--do not know the contexts from which these prophetic works come, nor how those contexts parallel the world we are living in today. Therefore our ability to call upon the past while making meaning in the present is severely truncated.There are corrupt clergy and a whole host of brainwashed flock out there using prophetic texts in ways that not only dishonor the prophetic tradition but also dishonor God. Talib Kweli once said “life without knowledge is death in disguise.” Kweli’s words put on blast those who out of ignorance lift prophetic texts for ends of death. Corruption and power-hoarding are at the center of this ignorance. And it is my opinion that if people really knew their Bible and really knew the living God, they’d be paying as much attention to if not more attention to Hip Hop than scripture. Let me explain…  

Prophecy: Movement and Spirit

There are two things about prophecy that are important to know: 1) prophecy is about movement & 2) prophecy is of a certain spirit.

Movement

Prophecy is a cultural dialectic—a conversation that relies upon movement. It relies upon movement between subjects: speaking and listening, challenging and receptivity, love and change through action. Prophecy relies upon movement between persons and groups: individuals participate in a culture/community where people exchange various expressions of truth like art, philosophy and ritual. Prophecy relies upon movement between communities and institutions: communities create political and social entities that are supposed to serve them and those entities, in turn, recreate communities. And finally, prophecy relies upon movement between communities and power structures: persons and groups speak truth about the structural conditions of power impacting them and those structures reform accordingly (sometimes willingly but most the time, structural reform happens begrudgingly).

Spirit

Prophetic texts and persons embody a particular spirit, a spirit that will not be contained or domesticated. The prophetic spirit is of and comes from the Living God. The Living God is liberation. Liberation, period. Prophetic persons, prophetic texts, and prophetic movements--if they are truly prophetic in nature, and not just on some silly “spiritual” psychobabble—are always speaking about power because power is the thing that either enables or blocks liberation. Prophets speak in truth about power: this is their nature, their duty and function no matter the cost. The prophet speaks truth to power and speaks to the masses about power. Prophets are almost always speaking about power within the realms of politics and religion. You don’t invite them home to meet mom. They do not make casual conversation and they don’t remain on the surface…ever. The spirit they embody doesn’t allow them to do anything but pursue truth in the hope of liberation. If you’re on board with that, they are the best company to keep and the best truth to come home to. If you’re not on board with the hope of liberation: get the hell out of the way. 

Intersections and Directions

When Christianity sold its soul to the devil by becoming the official religion of the Roman Empire in the 4^th c. CE, it lost its ability to be a/part/of prophetic movement. A prophet cannot be sucking on a corrupt power source and critiquing it with the same mouth. Such crossed loyalty and hypocrisy stifles movement and kills the spirit. Again, without movement and spirit, prophecy cannot exist. So when Christianity sold out, the religion of God made known in Jesus became the arm of empire, colonialism and war instead of the embodied heart of truth, love and justice. What does it mean for a tradition that gave birth to a movement to not be able to contain that movement any longer?

Well, the Living God does not die. So the movement just takes up life somewhere else.

There have been many “somewhere else’s” since the 4^th century but I’m not here to do a history lesson. I’m here as a theologian trying to locate prophecy today.

 Hip-Hop is the embodiment of prophecy in our times. Hip Hop has been the movement of truth-telling in the hope of liberation from its conception in the black community, from its birth in the South Bronx among those who were exchanging, creating, and resisting vis-à-vis and sometimes within the power structures impacting them. Even when the corrupt power of white-supremacist capitalism tried to stifle the spirit of the Hip Hop movement by turning it into a commodity, Hip Hop went underground and continued speaking truth (to power and about power) in the hope of liberation. The resurrective, resilient Spirit of Hip Hop is nothing short of divinity. Underground Hip Hop is, by all means, the prophetic movement that is alive and well in our culture today.

If you don’t believe me, check out any of these contemporary texts and try not to make (historically  accurate) parallels with the biblical prophetic tradition:

Hanifah Walida’s “Do You Mind” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9HPPlYN0BwI

Head Roc’s “Christopher Columbus” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sru9_pmKjGc

Blue Scholars “Burnt Offering” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N_LEM0cCJDk

Brother Ali “Uncle Sam Goddamn” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OO18F4aKGzQ

Conclusion and Implications

A person who is trying to trying to take seriously 1) justice in the world and 2) truth-full spirituality will find a home in Hip Hop. Hip Hop is where the Spirit of the Living God is moving in the hope of liberation today. Prophets not only speak truth to power and speak to the masses about power, but in their speaking they embody the power of the Living God, the power of liberation. Let those with ears, hear Hip Hop.

Adulthood: Live Courtside

Stocky build

unbraided, dirty blonde pony-tail

that in its sway makes explicit

the equestrian metaphor.

Purple uniform.

White shoes.

No make-up; just grit.

She makes her way

up and down the court

hustling like her life depends on it.

A constant look of worry upon her face

reflects the internal determination and

excellence she demands.

I watch from the bleachers,

and tears begin streaming down my face

in an arena full of strangers.

In her mistakes and

moments of athletic brilliance

a recognition of my own adolescence

begins to creep in and haunts this otherwise

ordinary recreational event on a Friday night

in a town where people have nothing better to do

than watch high school basketball games.

She misses a shot; I wince and say a

prayer that it won't matter next time

she has an open look.

She sprints the court full length and

makes a block so precise even fans for

the other team cannot help but

applaud her crafty defense;

I stand on my feet and scream her name so loud

you'd think she saved the earth from crashing.

This is the passion of self-referential projection.

From the first moment I saw her

an innocent, pure and protective spirit

began to whisper eternal truths

held in and seen through

the same stories and struggles in

different bodies of different generations.

So I cry in an arena full of strangers

for the adolescence I cannot repeat,

for the soccer player who is locked back there,

the daughter who felt trapped,

the budding sexuality that couldn't find itself reflected anywhere.

I cry in an arena full of strangers

and whisper truths to that stocky pony tail

working its ass off down there on the court

who cannot hear me but is drawn to me

for reasons I am just beginning to understand.

I cheer for the life that is starting to recognize itself

in a game that is rigged and ridiculously open-ended at the same time.

I cheer for the female body that is only allowed to have this

kind of loving and aggressive contact with other female bodies

when its contained by the "appropriateness" of competition.

I cheer for the soul inside that doesn't allow missed shots or

an eleven point deficit to censor its vitality.

And in the midst of it all, this (almost) thirty year old

gets a sense of what adulthood is about.

Adulthood is knowing even though it seems
like that's your body, heart and soul 
down there fighting for its life,
it's not. It's someone else who must 
be seen outside the confines of projection
which is why she fights and hustles so hard. 
Adulthood is recognizing patterns and 
affirming diversity,
simultaneously.

Adulthood is embracing

and re-writing one's own story and struggle

by loving it unconditionally as it unfolds

in those who are too young to know they are

uniquely and typically unfolding. 

Adulthood is wanting to win,

not for winning's sake but

so that look of worry

and the never-enough expectations of your parents

and the never-enough expectations of your coach

and the never- enough expectations of your own standards of excellence

might fade

just enough

for the love of the game to whisper its eternal truth.

On the Suppression of Anger

Seeds of Liberation and Small Groups

I've begun doing quite a bit of small group facilitation as of late. It's taken a while to get to this place. One must establish relationships and build rapport in the faith community before leadership is granted. Authority doesn't accumulate over night and if it does, whatever it is that's accumulated isn't authority. In my line of work, any kind of instant access to people probably has to do with their projections about G-d or the (suspect) charisma of the leader. Neither strikes me as healthy. So here I am, (on Feb 8th, it'll officially be my 'first day in the office' anniversary) a year into this ministry gig and I'm finally getting some traction. By traction, I mean the following: access to people's true feelings (especially those they're afraid to admit, which are often the most important feelings of all), insight into the communal dynamics that so often mystified me when I first arrived, space to direct the flow of conversation, openness to my ideas/experience/opinions/etc. These forms of traction, these spacious places enable real ministry to happen, beyond the caddy bullshit of surface churchy-churchness. These forms of traction allow me to do the work I feel fashioned (by G-d Most High) to do. Naturally, I'm thrilled. Glory. Hallelujah. And, did I mention that it's been a long time coming?

So I'm doing small group facilitation, now. A lot. And as I suspected, it's the place where the most dynamism and transformation are taking place. One-on-one pastoral care is important, but there's nothing that can foster healing and massage resilience in the human soul like small groups. The spiritual "effectiveness" (blegh, capitalist language--what else could I use?) of small groups became most apparent to me during my time in recovery. Something unbelievable happens when people are free to talk about their experience surrounded by others who know their own salvation depends on 'hearing others into speech' (Nelle Morton). That unbelievability heightens when the people speaking and hearing are folks whose experience has been denied, negated or silenced by the dominant culture. Getting Vietnam veterans together taught me this. Getting women in the church together taught me this. Getting queer people together anywhere taught me this. Incredible wedges of freedom, affirmation and support get carved when persons-made-invisible have the opportunity to articulate their truth.

What's perhaps overlooked, but in this pastor's estimation the *most* valued part of small groups, is that people begin to make connections between their own oppression/suffering and the systems perpetuating that suffering. For instance, over time the courage of people's sharing--if the group has members willing to be authentic and vulnerable which is always a variable--will take on heights unthinkable in the first couple of sessions. As courage rises in the room, the bar is set high for people's sharing in general. People get real, stories begin to emerge and inevitably some of the same stories get heard again and again from different sources. Example: early on in my experience with women's meetings in Alcoholics Anonymous I realized that more than half of the women suffering from addiction had been subject to some kind of sexual assault. Women using a numbing agent in order to handle the scripted violence upon their bodies--is that addiction or coping? You tell me. Example: as I sat with the vets on the dialysis unit at the VA it began to emerge that all of them had at least one son or daughter that was estranged from them. Coincidence that all of them had a disorder of the blood? I think not. Example: almost every person who attends my grief group talks about feeling 'selfish' or 'wrong' when they grieve. These are people who have lost significantly close loved ones: spouses, mothers, sisters, daughters. Is the punishing self-consciousness about emoting grief about these individuals or is it about a society that aggressively and consistently requires people to deny their pain (in order to maintain the status quo)? Almost all of the white/middle-upper class adolescent and young adult women I do pastoral care with admit self-injurious behaviors, particularly cutting and eating disorders. Is that isolated incidents of life mismanagement or are we willing to confront the fascism/s in our society that force women to exert (the little) control (the do have) even if that control has to be exercised in ways that cause harm?

If a small group is facilitated well, these kinds of connections can be made. When these connections are made it can completely re-orient a person's world. Instead of blaming one's self or thinking there is something inherently wrong/mistaken/guilty/impure in the self and getting stuck in the stuff of numbing/avoidance, we can build relationships based on the truth and begin plotting together the destruction of all-things-oppressive. Here's the formula...

telling a truth that's often silenced (courage and freedom)
being heard (compassion and healing)
making connections between individual experience & systems (restoration and reorientation)
communing & plotting in those connections (fellowship and liberation)  

This strikes me as the *real* stuff of faith, the stuff that all faith communities should be about but often are not because they're too afraid of the implications that emerge when multiple voices are encouraged to unapologetically truth-tell. Institutions and ideologies are especially at risk when multiple voices erupt. Monolithic communities and half-assed explanations of why things are the way they are are especially at risk when multiple voices erupt. People and countries in (unbalanced positions of) power are totally at risk when multiple voices erupt. This is the promise of liberation for the oppressed/marginalized and the seed of doom for those who gain their access/privilege/power on the backs of others. Small groups are the soil for liberation movements.

As a service provider within one of the most patriarchal, simultaneously homophobic & homosocial, historically oppressive and dishonest institutions in the course of world developments, I employ small group facilitation as an act of resistance. I plant a seed of liberation from within, praying that with G-d's help and the willingness of marginalized and fiercely courageous people on the inside (there are more than you'd think!), we might confess, repent and liberate our tradition. In this lifetime? No. Enough to make all of Christianity a wholesome place for all? No. But for us and those we love and those we work with and those we encounter on the rugged road? Maybe.

 And in this employment of resistance, I am made humble. Let me be specific.

There is no denying that I am suspicious of all religion, all institutions and that the water of my devotional life is often troubled by the hypocrisy and hate espoused by people who claim Jesus' name. I wish I was one of the people who could find a modicum of peace despite knowing my religion is used for ill, but I cannot. I simply cannot. I don't say this out of pride. Trust me: it causes great great great disturbance in my life. Part of this restlessness comes from being a clergy kid. Part of it comes from being young, queer, tattooed and female in a position that's often occupied by old, straight, clean-cut dudes. Point being: I'm restless and suspicious. So...often I err on the side of being overly critical of Christianity, overly critical of other clergy, overly critical of theology that serves deathly culture/s. But in the work of small groups, I'm often challenged to move beyond this one (narrow and narrowing) way of seeing my religion. When people's experience gets shared, there is no denying that the Church has been used for both good and ill, nor do those uses somehow cancel each other out. Stories of survival often include the faith community mobilizing in the hour of need. Stories of resilience prove the pivotal role faith/spirituality have played in make-or-break moments for tons of people. Pastors and sermons have saved lives, families and communities on the brink of destruction. Privileged parishioners have challenged oppressive systems and made incredible gains for marginalized communities, often to their own detriment and exclusion. This is all true. As true as the stuff of death-dealing and corruption.

So "you shall know the truth and truth shall make you free," right? In the best of small groups, a plethora of truths erupt through courageous multiple voices willing to unflinchingly pursue the spirit of life. The facilitator, if she is wise enough to witness the truth/s emerging, will experience liberation too even if it means arriving at new conclusions that disturb and disassemble the truth of her life (thus far). There's incredible freedom in that. I am being made free in this work, in this place, in these times.

It's been a long time comin.       

Come to Koinonia

A Pastor Learns about Listening

I've had three experiences in the last 24 hours that have re-oriented my spiritual attention to the power of listening. I must write about these experiences because i don't want to forget them. I don't want to forget the dangers of not listening or the possibilities for transformation present when we offer ourselves an ear (or two). I mostly don't want to forget because of the work I do. Pastoral ministry affords me the unique opportunity to listen deeply and while I'd like to think I take up that opportunity whenever its presented, the truth is I'm often way too quick to speech. Part of that is because of the expectations placed on pastors, namely that we have some 'word' to comfort, calm, and/or challenge up our sleeve at all times. We don't. But the expectations are real and people defer to our power all the time, silencing themselves in favor of 'hearing' us. It can be a seductive dynamic, one where the deferred-to-person/pastor becomes enamored with her own voice and thereby forgets to listen first, or listen long enough, or listen deeply enough. God has given me 3 experiences to place into the archives of my heart today and I write to remember the lessons therein.

Experience #1
My friend David Judah Oliver is a spoken word poet from the Inland Empire of Southern California. We met  a long time ago and mostly keep up with one another through facebook. I am a fan of his language and ideas that mostly manifest in artistic form though Judah is prophetic in nature. We are Christians of a different kind, but agree through and through that Jesus' main message was/is about the stuff of social justice. Yesterday when the world was processing the still fresh Arizona atrocity, Judah updated his facebook with this: "They call this an act of terror, but I bet we aren't about to start our war on "White Domestic Terror." Excellent piece of social commentary. Pretty quickly thereafter a white man (who I've never met), a friend of Judah's, began asking questions about why Judah was shining a light on whiteness, in particular. I entered the conversation (if you can call status-update-debating a converation) and talked about the hypocrisy of white-on-white violence not being taken as emblematic of all white people and I lifted up the legacies of white violence in the united states. This guy, Mike, instantly starts being defensive and universalizing how all people suffer from power distortions and tendencies toward violence, accusing Judah and myself of targeting white people unfairly. When Judah answered him from the perspective of a black male living in America, Mike continued to discount Judah's word, even belittling the importance of the conversation by saying "it's been a while since I've had a healthy debate"--as if the stuff of white violence is something to get one's intellectual rocks off about. Talk about distancing and personal avoidance. Brilliantly, one of Judah's friends wrote in and said "this conversation is an example of white terror." Touche.

Now I understand that facebook is an amorphous matrix of soundbyte communication and what's possible, in terms of meaningful dialogue and exchange,  is limited on a social networking site. That aside, just encountering the inability of Mike to set his ideas about the world aside and trust someone else's perception of their OWN experience...well, it was the height of psychological violence to me. Even though I participated and tried to impart a different view of history (from a white perspective, thereby negating a monolithic, eurocentric perspective), I felt like I was witnessing something profoundly sick and twisted. I could barely fall asleep last night it was so disturbing to me. And then this morning I woke up and another white man (this guy also named Mike), had taken issue with Judah's comments by invoking Christ's name, doing the typical white protestant "we are all equal in God's kingdom" dance. Judah of course handled him brilliantly by confronting Mike #2 about the fairy-taleism of peace without justice. But I'm not able to put down my discomfort with white people invoking universal truisms (and even in my savior's name!), as a means of denying the reality of experiences different than their own. Not listening, example #1

Experience #2
I've been thinking about having a baby for a while. I've decided that I'd like to be actively pursuing pregnancy (through artificial insemination) by the time I turn 30. Naturally, I've tried to get prepared for this process by seeking ob/gyn consultation and care here in Michigan. Six months ago I was told (by the ob/gyn recommended by the Kalamazoo Gay and Lesbian Resource Center) that I couldn't be given a referral to a fertility clinic at my personal request because I wasn't married to a man. Explicit meaning: patriarchy, heterosexism and homophobia are alive and at work. Again, my own religion is being invoked in the business of inequality: evangelical theology is under-girding the medical philosophy employed by the Methodist health care system I belong to. But the irony is that the PA I see for my ob/gyn care is a lesbian! I want to give her the benefit of the doubt because she's one of my own and seems to understand the injustice, but honestly even she gives me less than competent care. She walks into the room ready to roll and doesn't listen to why I'm there or what I need. Today I blew up and told her to stop talking over me because I couldn't get a word in. Eventually I started crying and yelling because I wasn't being heard. It was embarrassing and I immediately felt ashamed, though i did eventually get her to put her medical chart down and to give me space to talk. We talked about what was necessary for me to proceed with my pregnancy plan, but before she left the room she had to get her digs in. "You can't come in here swinging." "Don't shit where you live." "I'm one of the good ones here on your side but the people in the hallway wouldn't know that because of how you're yelling." All of these statements were aimed at putting me in my place, enforcing the silent (yet oppressive and deadly) contract we white people seem to have about not upsetting the status quo, about respecting professionals in power no matter what, about not getting too emotional because it lacks self-control. Here she is shaming me about yelling and crying instead of examining her own bed-side manners. Had she done the latter, she might realize that adults generally don't scream and cry when they feel heard. Not listening, example #2

Experience #3
This morning I worked out at the YMCA with my dear friend Karen. Karen is someone I love deeply, a woman with brains, grit, wit and the wisdom of having lived as a woman in leadership for 30+ years. Our relationship contains many elements, but the stuff of mothering/mentoring is quite alive between us. I trust her and rely on her feedback to shape my professional development. But she also doesn't treat me like a child, which has enabled us to foster profound respect and mutuality. Most of the time. Today, I found myself dominating the conversation. I got on a roll about almost every topic she brought up. By the end of our time on the treadmill, I realized I'd taken up about 70% of the talk time. Whack. With ten minutes left and my tail between my legs, I asked her a probing question about something she'd brought up earlier. Of course that probing question led to the most meaningful exchange we'd had all morning. But right now I'm wondering what would have happened earlier if I had left my opinions at the door. I sit here wondering what would have happened if we could have explored that particular topic for 40 minutes instead of 10 minutes. How much connection did I miss because I wanted to pontificate? How much more of Karen could I have learned about if I probed her understandings instead of verbalizing my own? This isn't the first time I've had to pause around this issue. Just two weeks ago one of my good friends brought to attention that when working together she often experiences me as one who doesn't listen.

Just when I get self-righteous at "the world" about not listening, I go and blow my own intentions. No one is immune, I suppose. Yes, I too, am on the path. Not listening, example #3.        

Moral of the story...
Experience #'s 1 & 2 showed me the deep need we have in this culture for profound listening, and not just any listening, but listening by non-target group people that trust the self-articulated experiences of target populations. Experience #3 showed me that no matter how well I think I understand issues of justice and injustice, power and inequality, needs and solutions, I better approach the articulation and implementation of that understanding with humility.

Here's the implication of what I've learned: today I will try to give my whole ear to every person I encounter, including myself.. And hopefully I'll wake up tomorrow willing to do the same. If not, I have these words to remind me.

Lessons and parallelisms: Weight Lifting and White Anti-Racist Activism

--It'll hurt at first. Keep doing it.
--The more you do it, the stronger you'll get. You can get stronger than you ever imagine. At some point, you'll question how you ever lived without it because it brings such satisfaction. Discipline and repetition are key. Don't EVER give up.
--You'll sweat and get messy. Sometimes it'll smell bad and look hideous. Soon, that won't matter because it feels so right and the results are undeniable.
--There's an important place you must find: it's the place between over-exertion (that leads to injury) and laziness (letting yourself off the hook). Once you find that place, stay there. But only stay there until your ability to exert increases. Then step it up.
--You'll get sore. That's right when you're about to make a leap into new dimensions of strength. Pay attention to the pain, but don't let it stop you. When experiencing soreness, call upon your own strength or the strength of God. It helps, seriously.

--If you constantly try to mimic other people's muscle-building regimens and routines, you'll never figure out the approach that works for you. Listen to your body and take some risks! You'll stumble into a specific way of doing things eventually. This process of listening, risking and stumbling is the only way you'll discover a sustainable routine. You and those you love deserve sustainability.

--Your muscles get stronger because tissue/fibers break-down and build back up. Allow both.

--As your muscles get stronger: cardio endurance capacity increases. It takes a while, but when it happens, it's AWESOME. You'll run harder and faster than ever.

--Work out partners will save your life, particularly those who don't have huge muscles yet and keep it real about how hard it is.

--Work out partners who know how to crack the right joke when you're muscling through that last *almost impossible* set are priceless. Have at least three of those on-call.

--When in doubt, consult the professionals who have years of experience working with the equipment and know all those special "insider" tricks.

--Distraction helps sometimes. Other times it gets in the way. Figure out the difference and cultivate healthy distractions.

--You will fall off the routine and feel like shit. Forgive yourself and start again without making a big deal about it. The only good thing about "off-time" is that you realize how necessary and good it is when sticking with the program. 

--Those who are choosing not to engage will despise your strength and look at your effort with suspicion. Invite them to walk with you. They'll see how good it feels to move.

--If you really push yourself in public, people will stare at you, especially if you're working hard enough to make noise. You will feel silly and awkward. Get over it.   

--Music makes everything a little bit easier.
--Literature helps too.
--Drink lots of water. Get as much rest as you need. No one can sustain a good routine without the proper nutrients.
--Core strength (stomach muscles) is/are the hardest to develop. They are the key.

Mel Speaks: Invisibility/Hypervisibility

A brave soul telling truth in an often times cruel world.
All love to my courageous companion Melvin Antoine.

Systems and Suicides

An article for the Battle Creek Enquirer

By: Rev. Emily Joye McGaughy

Flipping through these pages, you’ve probably figured out by now that the topic of this month’s Body, Mind and Spirit section of the Enquirer is depression. Suicide is the ultimate (and final) act of depression. Therefore, when exploring this topic it would be avoidant and down-right unethical not to focus attention on the recent suicides of Asher Brown, Seth Walsh, Billy Lucas, Justin Aaberg and Tyler Clementi.

Anyone paying attention to the media in the last month has heard these names. Anyone paying attention has also heard these suicides talked about in terms of gay identity and bullying (which in these cases seems like a dangerously watered-down term; how about “hate-criming”?). Gay kids have been killing themselves for a long time. This is nothing new. I do not know exactly what shifted in our culture to make the national attention of gay suicides possible, but the visibility of these heart-breaking episodes affords us a critical opportunity—as a culture—to rethink and rework ourselves.

Before going any further, I want to answer an important question I assume some readers might be asking: why is an ordained Christian minister using her space in the spirituality section of the B.C. Enquirer to address these issues? Depression is a spiritual issue. Suicide is a spiritual issue. Premature and unnecessary death of children anywhere is a spiritual issue. Further, there is no institution guiltier of propagating homophobic and gender-based violence in this society than Christianity. Columnist Dan Savage recently said of the gay teen suicides: “The Church has blood on its hands.” He’s right. This is one Christian minister’s attempt to acknowledge, repent from and subvert spiritual abuse being carried out in the name of Jesus. There is nothing, not one single thing, about these suicides that isn’t spiritual.

Continued focus on supposed “isolated incidents” of aggressive teen-age behavior in response to homosexuality might be preventing our society from having a harder conversation, a conversation that implicates all of us. I believe social outrage and horror over issues of non-heterosexuality have little to do with who is having sex with who and everything to do with the fear of having gender roles thrown into question. 

Most human beings have, at least once or twice (if not thousands of times) experienced the limits of gender in ways that have profoundly impacted them. Perhaps you were the girl who could throw a football and immediately got labeled a “tom boy.” Perhaps you were the boy who experienced feelings of sadness about cruelty as a kid and got called a “sissy” as a result. Perhaps you are the person whose daily life, whose very body is neglected every single day because it somehow does not conform to this simplistic boy-girl system. Or on the flip side: maybe you are the high feminine woman, recognizable and envied, yet only acknowledged when you’re playing the part of a beauty queen. Maybe you are the football-playing young man, familiar and popular, yet dismissed time and time again because people assume you lack intelligence or compassion. Even those whose gender presentation matches social norms on the surface can experience deeply harmful expectations internally and externally.

Given that many of us have experienced gender-based oppression at some point, it is surprising that we as a society are so slow to question why things are the way they are. And yet, for many of us questioning gender-based reality is like questioning the air we breathe. We human beings are gender-branded from the get go: “it’s a boy” or “it’s a girl” accompany almost every infant into the world. This branding is of course done in conjunction with the observation of an infant’s genitalia. What’s striking is not that we identify babies based on body parts—although why certain body parts have been recognized as the markers of identity still boggles the mind. What’s striking is the meaning we ascribe to body parts, meaning that is arbitrarily assigned and yet upheld as factual and beyond question.

You know about these meanings, right? They are not just about male/female, but about how we dress, what jobs we ‘should’ do and who we are allowed to love. You know, meanings like women are supposed to be feminine and sexually orient towards men while men are supposed to be masculine and sexually orient towards women. That is what Asher Brown, Seth Walsh, Billy Lucas, Justin Aaberg and Tyler Clementi did not do. They did not uphold the traditional notions of what it means to be a man. And when they did not abide by those unwritten, yet daily enforced rules, they paid the ultimate and final price. (One wonders what is so deeply threatening about men loving each other) They did not pay that price because they were different, but because our framework of what’s natural makes this world unsafe for those who do not conform to or confirm the accuracy of that framework. Therefore, their deaths belong to all of us.

A world without them must confront the facts: either what’s “natural” isn’t or we must go on accepting conditions that drive young people to kill themselves. I for one pray to God that we will forsake the latter. 

Rage Today

No one is born inherently inferior to anyone else.

God is doper than that.  

No one chooses what they are born into:

not poverty not privilege.

Social conditions create
vastly different vulnerabilities

for communities and individuals.

Therefore...

Until justice is actualized

and no one comes into this world

more vulnerable than anyone else

for reasons they did not choose,

I don't want to hear anything

about safety, comfort or security

from those who already have it.

The end.