"I'm reading too much, trying to witnes too much. Somebody's got to pay attention. But there's too many acts of vicious stupidity & violent ignorance happening everywhere. Bigotry is winning over tolorance. Religious oppression over spiritual freedom, and God help me, hate is winning over love. I am alomost hoping that something really IS going to happen on December 21st. We can't go on like this." -Ian Egan
I once said in a group of near strangers that my politics were strongly tied to my religion. Having apparently not noticed that I had mentioned my long-term lesbian relationship 18 times, a few people recoiled and asked in tones filled with partisan disdain, "Are you a Republican?" Of course, I corrected them and spewed a little vitriol about the loud mouthed Conservative Christians that give the perceived minority Liberal Christians a bad name. The following post is inspired by a similar, though much more intimate situation. For the many of you reading this who prefer to have little to do with discussions of the Bible, I beg your indulgence and mean only to express my beliefs, not shove them.
Without further Ado, Picking Cherries
A few nights ago, my girlfriend, who is Jewish, came across a passage from the New Testament in a book she was reading. She asked me about the context, and then her love of asking me questions combined with my love of explaining things (something that makes us perfect for each other) and led to a pretty lengthy bedtime Bible lesson. I introduced the major players and defined some key New Testament vocabulary, and it was in the discussion of parables that my Dear One got confused. Illustrating by example I told her my two favorites of Christ’s teachings, the parable of the Good Samaritan and the parable of the Sheep and the Goats. Both are found in Matthew, or if you’re not a big reader, the musical Godspell. Having just been subject to a verse from Romans, condemning us, personally, for loving each other, she asked me, “If Jesus said to love everybody, how can Christians hate gay people?”
I was floored. How could I answer the greatest question in progressive Christianity to someone who, minutes ago, didn't know the definition of Apostle, and only 6 hours before the alarm clock was to go off? I took a breath, and found my words. “It’s called, cherry picking.”
“The Bible is huge,” I told her “and contradicts itself an amazing number of times. Because we can’t take it all in, we have to pick and choose what we remember. There are those, who chose to remember that which they think elevates themselves above others. Take Leviticus. We hear over and over the verse that it is an abomination for a man to sleep with a man, but how often to we hear the commandments to not touch your wife during her period or to stone rape victims, that are in that very same chapter? People pick and choose Old and New Testament alike. Some people find a verse that condemns something they don’t like and trumpet it like it is the only thing Jesus ever said. It’s sad, but it happens.
“But there is another kind.” I said. “I cherry pick the verses that make me feel good about life and other people. Jesus said to ‘Love G-d and love your neighbor as yourself’ to remove the plank from your own eye before attempting to take the spec from your brother’s and do your good deeds in secret, not for the praise of men. He taught kindness and generosity saying, 'that which you did for the least of your brothers, you also did for me’ and 'one cannot love G-d and money,' and He warned against pride with 'blessed are the meek and persecuted.' These are the parts I accept and apply to my own life, and I leave all that abomination stuff for someone else to thump. It’s cherry picking, sure, but I’m pretty sure my cherries are much sweeter than the ones that condemn for doing this…” I kissed her, closed my eyes, said a prayer, and went to sleep happy.
