When I was a child, I thought as a child now that I am a grown woman; I am a little less childish-most of the time. I remember being very concerned about rules as a kid. I think this is common. Paul talks about rules to the church at Galatia. It is very important to know what the rules are so we know which ones we can observe, which to bend and which to break. And, we also know if someone else is not observing them and we all tend to be outraged by others’ transgressions especially if those missteps land on our own rights. “Moooom!” My parents expected us to observe the rules in our home, at school, and out in the community.
After I was baptized the second time at age 11, I also became obsessive about going the extra mile. I worked to be cheerful when performing my chores that supported the family. I straightened things in public spaces though I didn’t make the mess myself. (You might still catch me facing shelves in a store.) I tried to take care of the things I owned and also the things I use in common. It was a noble undertaking-I guess it is an example of how little a child of eleven has to regret in her short life that these were the things I chose to do. And, I began to give to the church from my own money when I found out that was one of the “rules” of belonging to church (though it was certainly not stressed in any way-it was explained along with other things in my new baptismal certificate slash booklet).
When I went to Purdue University and attended church at Purdue Christian Campus Ministry, the world opened up to me. I went from an image of God with a big stick-though I loved God very much-to a loving, all-inclusive brother. There were Jesus freaks at my campus church-do you remember them? They were so excited about their salvation; they would stand up in public places and lead cheers for Jesus-there was something refreshing about this. No embarrassment at all-just pure unadulterated joy at finding Christ. Just like Isaiah, “I will greatly rejoice in the Lord, my whole being shall exult in my God; for he has clothed me with the garments of salvation,…” The people I met were not only Christians they were willing to share their flaws an how Jesus had stepped into their lives to release them from bondage to drugs, watching out for number one, and every sort of human affliction. This was the kind of release that Isaiah was prophesying to the people of Israel who were living in exile from their homeland. One day, Zion herself would leap for joy at the arrival of her savior. I hope one day she does.
Paul writes in Galatians of the release of bondage from the law. That was the sort of release I received when I went to the campus church. I mingled with people of different backgrounds and races and found they all struggled with the same kinds of things I did. I learned that beating myself up over my transgressions was counterproductive and not even required to follow Christ. There were people with whom I could talk about my struggles instead of feeling the need to hide them. This was what Paul was addressing. I could call God, “Daddy” through my relationship with Jesus. It was truly freeing. It also helped me to not be so concerned about the transgressions of others. It is good to stand up for what is right and fair. Yet, it isn’t necessary to push someone away because they are the oppressor or sinner.
I had a client years ago who broke my heart. He was in the worse kind of bondage. A survivor of abuse, dealing with a debilitating illness with chronic pain such that he just wanted to die. There was just enough in his life that he worried about what would happen to those he left behind. That is what stopped him from ending his life. I listened and talked to him and hoped he would live through one more night. Bondage because of illness and childhood trauma. My hope was that his love of God would sustain him through whatever trials he had ahead of him. He was a kind person and didn’t want to hurt anyone including himself. He had made peace with his abuser. That was the remarkable thing to me.
I work with folks who have been abused as a way to put things right in the world. And, I do this when I go in to the jail to visit people, when I talk to folks on the streets, and at camp. Listening, affirming, and normalizin what seems bizarre. No matter how often my heart breaks, I do not have to endure the full pain of the survivors I encounter. Perhaps, the folks I encounter-that we all encounter-can see this light that Isaiah and Paul and the Gospel describe. “…the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise to spring up before all the nations. For Zion’s sake I will not keep silent,…” “So you are no longer a slave but a child, and if a child then also an heir, through God.”
There are lots of good rules out there. I would like people to observe the rules that keep us from abusing others. I want people to know how harmful breaking these rules can be. If I can set one person on a path of healing with the knowledge that someone cares that they are in pain, that someone cares if they live or die, and that someone who is a Christian accepts them for who they are; then I will feel I have set something back in its proper place in the world. When I was a child I avoided painful experiences because I thought as a child, as a woman it seems the pain of others has sought me and rather than avoid it I have equipped myself to bear it. I have set aside childish things.