Red Bison Faith: Akbaakuxshé: Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg

Showing posts with label Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg. Show all posts

Friday, November 19, 2021

Wisdom Series 9, Wisdom of Solomon, "Are you one of the 36 righteous?"

B Wisdom 9 Pilg 2021 (Wisdom)

Wisdom 10:1-17

October 31, 2021

As church leaders, one of the things we often struggle with, both personally and professionally, is the countercultural message we have been given through Jewish and Christian tradition, history, and Scripture that community life is one of the great communicators of the Divine. For the cultural narrative we see doing damage to the personal and communal lives of our world is Western individualism.

While one of the triumphs of Western individualism may have been individual liberty and the Bill of Rights over and against abusive power lodged in the Church and the State, what we have seen time and again is the inability of humankind to come together, in all of our diversity, to recognize that we are woven together in a single garment of destiny. That turn of phrase comes from Dr. King. And the prophets of our own age are usually telling us that all signs are pointing toward the need for us to learn how to live together to solve a number of intersectional issues from the pandemic to racial capitalism to climate change.

The calls for individual liberties, freedoms, and rights have been used against us by the powerful and the wealthy to make us believe that if this group or that group gets their way, all of the freedoms, accorded to the righteous (namely—us) will come crashing down. We become fearful that something we have, and it is presented to us very vaguely, what we have . . . will be taken away.

Long work done by community organizers, protests against state violence, and, finally, video evidence, the testimonies of neighbors, and the screams of family members helped us all to see what had been said by the African-American community for so long—the problem is not about taking away the freedom of white people—it is about life and livelihood for people who are already pinned to the pavement, running away, sleeping in their own home, their backs against the wall.[1] I have heard a number of long-time African-American activists like Angela Davis say that what was going on with protests that were at their zenith last summer felt different. Felt different because though there are certainly white folk who talk smack about the protestors--the recent Black Live Matters protests also brought many more white people out to join the protests—particularly young people.

Change is happening. But change is hard. And as historical institutions and ways of community begin to transform, we can ask ourselves, “What is holding us together? What is holding the universe together?” For though we know that community is a Biblical value, we also know that there are righteous individuals who seem to hold the moral integrity of families, whole communities, even a nation together.

The Scripture passage we have from the book of the Wisdom of Solomon is one that poetically tells us there are times when life hangs in the balance, when danger threatens and calamity is nearby. Into those times, Wisdom infuses someone with the strength, and power, and righteousness to bring about glory, rescue, and salvation. It happened with the Exodus, with the Flood, when famine threatened Joseph and his family in the land of Egypt. It happened with Queen Esther and Ruth. Wisdom animates someone who steps into the lurch, stands in the maw, and brings about redemption.

This passage probably reflects an oral tradition within Judaism which required 36 righteous persons to hold the world together and make possible salvation. The 36 are the Tsadik Nistarim who receive the gift of Divine Presence, the Shekinah. This tradition was thought to originate with the story of Sodom when Abraham pleaded with God, knowing that his son Lot and his family lived in Sodom. In contrast to what many conservative Christians believe the sin of Sodom to be, what the Jewish tradition teaches was that Sodom was a land of brutal inhospitality, violence, and cruelty. The ethic of Sodom was, “What’s mine is mine and what’s yours is yours.” They did not share, they did not care, they were not kind. Abraham pleaded with God, “Please, God of Mercy, if there are but 10 righteous people in Sodom, relent and do not destroy it.” And God relents. But this is the final story told of Sodom before its destruction.

[T]here were two young girls who would go out in Sodom to draw water from a well. And one day when they were walking together, one of them asked the other one, "Why do you look so devastated, so distraught?" And she confided in her friend and she said, "Well, we have no more food left in our home and I'm afraid that my family is going to die."

So the first girl filled up her pitcher with flour from her own home and she gave it to her friend. But when the citizens of Sodom heard about this, they abducted that girl, the one with the generous heart, and they burned her to death. And so the Holy One said, “Even if I desired to be silent, justice for that young girl does not permit me to keep silent.”[2]

No. There were not 10 righteous people left in Sodom. And God could not bear it, that another kind, young girl might die at the hand of state violence. Judgment came.

We do not want to think of God in those judgmental terms but what of that young girl? Do we continue to live and let live as the world burns? Does not the loss of her life move the Heart of God?

The Tsadik Nistarim, the 36 righteous people necessary, have become part of Jewish folklore. They appear at times of great peril to save the world. They come forward out of their hiddenness, their anonymity and humility, to save the world.

After she helped raise $8.9 million in disaster relief for families affected by 2016 wildfires in the Great Smoky Mountains, sending them $1,000 checks for six months in a kind of celebrity experiment with universal basic income . . . After it was known that she sends out over one million books of month to first serve children in East Tennessee, then in the United States, and now around the world . . . After she came out in support of Black Lives Matter by saying, “Of course Black lives matter. Do we think our little White asses are the only ones that matter? No!”[3], one of my favorite Jewish writers, Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg, wrote, “There's an idea in Judaism that there are 36 special people in the world at all times who secretly maintain the world. I have begun to suspect that Dolly Parton may be one of them.”[4] Think about that the next time you hear “Jolene” being crooned by Dolly or one of the many people who have covered it.

The 36 righteous are part of the Jewish tradition now. One of the 36 is said to maybe even be the Messiah. And so the Jewish people look for people who rise in difficult circumstances. That orientation ripples out wider and wider. Strangers are treated with great kindness in the belief that one of them might be a Tsadik or one of the Tsadik Nistarim or even the Messiah. They arise because we need them.[5] The Jewish people look for them everywhere, even in Country Western singers, because as they look, they are rummaging-through for the places where they see God’s goodness, presence, and activity in the world.

As President Biden’s Build Back Better infrastructure bill are being stripped of their climate provisions, I found myself not only angry but losing hope for our world, for any quality of life my future grandchildren might have. When I read an update on Friday with Tracy traveling to see her mom and daughter, I sat up in bed and cried and just couldn’t stop crying. I really didn’t want to preach this Sunday . . . wondered why I do this anyway if it is not to be about serving the righteousness and wisdom of God.

Then I read again the story of the five young people from the Sunrise Movement who are fasting outside the White House. Fasting is a spiritual practice. It disrupts habits and the regular. It hones attention. And purifies intent. Fasting detaches from the Domination System to remind us who or what is truly the source of our power.

Rather than church people, five young climate activists from the Sunrise Movement. They have been fasting now for eleven or twelve days. I think these young people show me to be a hypocrite and call me to such action. That will have to be worked out talking with family and this church about how that might impact us all for me to take that risk. Because it scares the heck out of me to believe that my faith calls me to that spiritual practice.

One of the strikers, Kidus Girma, almost died from low blood sugar. He continues his fast. Girma said:

I’m on a hunger strike for my family and my future and the promises that the president made to young people who put him in office. I’m on hunger strike, after having a dangerously low blood sugar amount, because the president of the United States made promises when he was running for office and the couple of months leading up to this deal, and even while this deal is being negotiated, that he would deliver the climate mandate that he was elected on. I’m on a hunger strike because this is what the world needs.

I’m asking the president of the United States to be the president of the United States and to fight for climate, to fight to make sure that the next wildfire, to make sure that the next hurricane, to make sure the next possibility of famine is not as extreme as it has to be. And right now I feel like the president of the United States is fighting for a superstorm and not for kids. And I need the president of the United States to start fighting for me.[6]

Kidus Girma moved with his family from Ethiopia to the United States when he was 8 years old. Girma’s mother supported the family with her job at Samsung which paid her $8 an hour. He knows how fragile that life was and how climate change is tied to everything, including housing and public transportation. In the original Build Back Better bill, Girma was particularly interested in the Civilian Climate Corps because it embodied his work and his hope for a healthier earth.

Girma said in an interview before he began his fast, “We won’t win unless we are actively creating a new world.”[7] Not surprisingly, I think that sounds like faith language spoken by an immigrant young man who is using a spiritual practice to hone our attention and purify not only his but our intent.

I think Kidus Girma is one of the 36 righteous who have been hidden but now have appeared, in all their humility, to the Divine Presence with us and show us the way.

Who do you think one of the 36 are in our world in this generation? Out of humility, they have remained hidden till now but have begun to show themselves because the world needs saving. Have you begun to look for them? They are known by their everyday kindness, by their courage which came forward when called upon. Maybe you are one of them, too humble to believe that the Divine Presence would be shared with you. But you are aware that the time has come. And . . . Dolly Parton?! Right?

Look for the Tsadik Nistarim as the Jewish people have done in each generation. Do not lose hope in the goodness of God who would not leave us alone in this hour. Discern whether you are one of them.

Wisdom gave to holy people the reward of their labors;
she guided them along a marvelous way,
and became a shelter to them by day,
and a starry flame through the night.

for wisdom opened the mouths of those who could not speak

and made the tongues of young people speak clearly.

Look for the Tsadik Nistarim in our schools, communities, in our wider world. And search your heart. Maybe you are one of them. Amen.

[1] “Backs against the wall” is a term coined by Howard Thurman.

[2] Rabbi Sharon Brous, “The Spirit of Sodom lives: Reflections from the Border,” ikar, November 16, 2019, https://ikar-la.org/sermons/the-spirit-of-sodom-lives-reflections-from-the-border-rabbi-sharon-brous/.

[3] Alyssa Rosenberg, “Dolly Parton is the superhero America needs in 2020,” Washington Post, November 18, 2020, https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2020/11/18/dolly-parton-is-superhero-america-needs-2020/

[4] Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg, Twitter, November 17, 2020, https://twitter.com/theradr/status/1328861214168977414?lang=en

[5] Rabbi James Stone Goodman, “The 36 Unknown,” toddweinstein.com, https://toddweinstein.com/project36.html.

[6] Kidus Girma, “Hunger Striker Out of Hospital Demands Biden Keep All Climate Provisions in Build Back Better Plan,” Democracy Now!, October 27, 2021, https://www.democracynow.org/2021/10/27/white_house_climate_activist_hunger_strike.

[7] Amal Ahmed, “The Sunrise Movement’s Trailblazing Questi for a Green New Deal,” Texas Obverver, August 9, 2021, https://www.texasobserver.org/the-sunrise-movements-trailblazing-quest-for-a-new-green-deal/.

Wednesday, November 6, 2019

All Saints Sunday, "One who belongs to God," November 3, 2019

C All Saints BFC 2019

Luke 19:1-10

November 3, 2010

I grew up in a small, rural community where the animus between the Protestant and Catholic churches was too often on display. In my faith formation, I remember people within my local church taking little jabs at the Roman Catholic faith. “Look, the Roman Catholic faith has Jesus still on the cross. That runs counter to a Jesus who was resurrected.” Or, “They may call it saint veneration but it sure looks like idol worship to me—filled with all kinds of weird superstitions.” Or, “Word on the street is that those nuns who teach at the Catholic grade school are as mean as heck. They’ll rap your knuckles if your handwriting is not up to snuff!” (Gulp)

I found myself parroting those kinds of criticisms until I got older, interrogated my faith in a healthier way, and did a 180 on all three counts. I find the saint tradition within the Roman Catholic Church a healthy way to tell the stories of ancestors—ancestors who showed courage and resolve in all kinds of times and settings. To seek their support and counsel as we experience the trials and tribulations of everyday life seems only right and appropriate Plus, I have ended up with all these friends within the Roman Catholic Church, both lay and clergy alike, who are these fantastic people. Two Roman Catholic sisters saved my life when I was in mission in southern Mexico. And my life would not be the same without Amy Aguirre and the host of Roman Catholic sisters here in Billings who bring such meaning and joy to my life. I swear that Sister Ann Schoch is the older sister I never had who is full of mischief, laughter, and courage—whispering curse words under her breath, snickering at my bad jokes, and accomplishing things in the world such that she is regularly traveling off to receive another reward for her incredibly brave work. She will be and is St. Ann to me.

The principal meaning of the word “saint” is “one who belongs to God.”[1] And the saints I have met are not people who have their halo on too tight but ones whose halo is a little tilted, “genuinely good people who struggled like the rest of us to get better, but they didn't wait until they were perfect before entering into a relationship with God. Real saints are ordinary people who gave up pretending they were without fault and, instead, accepted the fact that God loved them and accepted them just the way they were.”[2]

I think one of the requirements for a saint is courage. For saints regularly run headlong into a society like the healthy person in an alcoholic family. Sometimes unhealthy systems are hard to identify because the very people acting healthy within the system are shunned or punished. Saints are often punished and shamed for their unwillingness to join in, their unwillingness to take advantage of and share in the everyday harm of an unhealthy system, and saints are sometimes even those who do things that many might see as not very loving by refusing to participate in the games and secrecy treasured by an unhealthy system.

In the Bible, the stakes are even greater. In making our way through the book of Revelation over the last few weeks, I spoke of the everyday violence and war that Rome waged against its subject peoples. Galilee was considered the breadbasket of the Roman Empire. And Rome and its collaborators regularly used taxes to create debt among the populace, leveraged that debt into the sale of land which had historically allowed subsistence farmers to provide for their families and communities, and turned subsistence farmers into tenants or day laborers on their own land. Worse yet, many Jewish people became a part of a debt slavery economy that ran counter to the Jewish covenant tradition of freedom, sabbath, neighborliness, and grace.

We can imagine, then, how Jewish tax collectors would have been seen by the rural Jewish populace. At the least, tax collectors would have been seen as collaborators with Rome. Many in the Jewish community would have seen tax collectors as traitors over and against their Jewish neighbors. Particularly as they fed off an unhealthy system a tax collector’s wealth was directly correlated to how much he was willing to cheat, ask above what Rome and its collaborators required, or refuse to offer grace to a neighbor who could not meet their obligations. Tax collectors were the arbiters of the economic violence Rome used to acquire greater and greater wealth, land, and resources as they bled Jewish communities dry.

This is no small thing that Zacchaeus might recognize something in Jesus that might provide for his salvation. Jesus and his community represent the healthy person in the alcoholic family. They stand outside of that system, help others to imagine themselves living a life outside of it. The Gospels make it clear that the unhealthy system regularly reacts to Jesus by suggesting that he should be shamed or punished for not getting with the program. Understand. Jesus is not offering a program that helps Jewish peasants in Galilee set up a system of alternative wealth. Rather, he offers a system that helps people remember how they might be an alternative community—suggesting that they can be something more together in mutuality rather than scraping and clawing or alone or profiting off the hardship of their neighbors.

Zacchaeus, maybe has an a curiosity, an inkling, maybe a small gnawing, that though his wealth provides him with a kind of status his wealth reflects the dis-ease, the disease, he has with his Jewish neighbors.

Jesus invites himself to Zacchaeus’ home, to dine with him, and become part of his circle. But salvation does not come to Zacchaeus when the unclean Jesus dines at his table. The gospel lesson today teaches that Jesus only declares salvation coming to the home of Zacchaeus when the tax collector declares a new relationship with his neighbors and the poor. Zacchaeus shows true repentance through his unwillingness to profit from his profession at the expense of others.

Maybe in Jesus, Zacchaeus sees an opportunity to redefine his life by extending the table. Jesus indicates that salvation is not bound up in relationship with him but with Zacchaeus’s neighbors. If Zacchaeus simply delights over the presence of Jesus at his house, salvation never comes. If Zacchaeus is satisfied that Jesus is willing to dine with him, salvation never comes. If Zacchaeus provides great hospitality, even makes Jesus laugh, serves Jesus in every imaginable way, salvation never comes. But salvation does come—through the newly proclaimed relationship Zacchaeus will have with his community. Zacchaeus may remain a tax collector, but he will no longer participate in the oppression and extortion of the machine, no longer grind the poor into dust.

Within the story of Zacchaeus, we learn how Jesus defines salvation. Through this story we learn that salvation, for Jesus, has very little to do with heaven or an afterlife, believing in Jesus or his miracles, or even doing prescribed rules. Salvation for this Jesus of Nazareth has to do with relationship you’re your neighbor, and, in particular those who are consistently injured by the machine or the system. Salvation is defined by how we interact with our community.

We live in a time of great anxiety and fear. And it makes it very tempting to go it alone and scrape and claw for what we can get or to participate and collaborate in unhealthy systems that profit off the destruction of the land, take advantage of our neighbors, or even profit off the pain that is found in our communities. Jesus calls us down from our curiosity in the sycamore trees of our lives, as observers of faith, to participate in bringing about salvation to our communities. Jesus invites Zacchaeus to be “one who belongs to God”, over against a system that crushes neighbor. Jesus invites Zacchaeus, in all his continuing imperfection, to be a saint.

Saints and our good ancestors are not about an agenda to reinforce a narrative that they are always the blameless hero. Rather, the agenda of saints and our good ancestors is to genuinely not cause harm, to learn, grow & repair harm if it turns out they have caused it. A lot of times, those two agendas will lead to vastly different actions. We should get clear that if we want to be saints and good ancestors for a new age which agenda we will choose.[3] It will take courage. But look at the ancestors and saints who have gone before you. Look at the saints who are gathered around you on this day to encourage and support you. Sisters and brothers, siblings and cousins, you belong to God. You are the saints of the Living One! Praise God. Amen.

[1]2 Timothy 3:16

[2]Michael Piazza, “Liberating Word,” http://web-extract.constantcontact.com/v1/social_annotation?permalink_uri=2JRekJ4&image_url=https%3A%2F%2Fmlsvc01-prod.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fbb2deeec001%2Fe538e9bc-420a-496b-ade5-06e86648d56d.jpg%3Fver%3D1486182388000&fbclid=IwAR1pokaRnQWWzdqIayYXoNr9dtKfXshlkf7M86ZRsFFnWg9Rx17o_y8ofns.

[3] Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg, Twitterfeed, November 2, 2019, 4:30 p.m.

Tuesday, July 9, 2019

Seventh Sunday of Easter, June 2, 2019, "Faith and abortion"

C Easter 7 NH BFC 2019

Gospel of Philip Gospel of Mary 10

June 2, 2019

Some of you may know Kayla Janowski as a member of our Justice Committee. Some of you may know that she was the leader and coordinator of Billings’ first protest in solidarity with Standing Rock. I got to know Kayla as an Americorps VISTA volunteer who worked with local faith leaders and faith communities to work on transitional housing in Billings. It was during that time I learned that she was a former lock-down defender on the basketball team at Vassar College. She is a young woman of tremendous wisdom and courage, perhaps first revealed in a memory she shared over Facebook. When she was just 2 years-old, her mother tried to get her to do something “normal.” Kayla’s mother recalled that Kayla responded by saying, “You’re not the boss of my body!” Kayla Janowski everyone!

“You’re not the boss of my body!” Our inability to honor and respect the individual sovereignty of human bodies is often strongly linked with our inability to honor and respect the obligations or rights we have to a peoples’ land. We are in that time.

Once again, I want to ask us to understand the Bible as a tool for discernment. It is not God. It is not the moon. Scripture can be the finger pointing to the moon. But in each age we are required to engage Scripture to discern what of it we shall bring forward and what we shall leave behind.

I decided to use two sacred writings not found in the Bible. In the passage from the Gospel of Mary, Peter, the mythological representation of the institutional church, is not happy with the wisdom that Mary of Magdala, the mythological representation of the divine feminine, shares with the disciples. Peter, along with his brother Andrew, seeks to silence Mary. In response, the apostle Levi says, “We should announce the good news as the Savior ordered, and not be laying down any rules or making laws.” This passage is a call from outside of the main tradition to be critical of Scripture, our own tradition, perhaps recognizing that the tradition is already bending away from its egalitarian roots, roots dug deep in a broader and deeper, compassionate love of God.

Unfortunately, the Bible makes patriarchy part of our tradition. We know that almost all or maybe all of Scripture was written by men, with their point of view, their interests, and their values holding sway. Therefore, Scripture requires a strong feminist critique to determine what truths we might glean out of its stories, teachings, hymns, poetic discourse, and morality for our communities. That necessary critique is important recognizing that something as important as abortion availability and practice are being decided by what those on the Religious Right are advocating on behalf of the unborn . . . for the Bible told them so.

Let’s be clear. The Bible says almost nothing about abortion. Really. Abortions have been performed throughout history but the Bible shares no reflection, prohibition, or punishment. There is an awkward Scripture passage taken from the book of Numbers, one of the first five books of the Bible, which describes how to have an abortion administered by the priest in cases of sexual infidelity.[1]

Way back in November of 1968, the orthodox publication, Christianity Today, devoted its whole monthly issue to debating the subject of contraception and abortion. It was conservative Christian biblical scholar, Bruce Watke, from Dallas Theological Seminary, who argued that the Bible gives no clear answer on the matter.[2]

The Scripture verses those from the Religious Right use to further their position are not about abortion. They are verses used, poetically, to describe God’s care or vocational destiny. God calls the prophet Jeremiah before he was formed in the womb.[3] God calls the apostle Paul before he was even born.[4] These are not verses about pregnant mothers. They are about knowing our divine call to a holy vocation lies waiting for us long before we can even know it ourselves. Psalm 139 comes closest by using a beautiful turn of phrase to talk about how God’s presence and thoughts for us are found even when we were knit together in our mother’s womb.[5] Again, that is not about abortion.[6] That is a wonderful poetic way of describing God’s love and presence for us while the psalmnist also worries and wonders if God is truly present while the wicked prosper.

The Bible says nothing about abortion. And verses that the Religious Right or Colonialist Christianity use are distorted out of context to be about abortion. As I shared in preaching about climate change several weeks earlier, I hope that not only helps you but also empowers you to then engage others with a faith rooted in a God who created women in Her image. We need minds and hearts changed. Lives are at stake.

The criticism the Bible demands of us does not allow us to make the Bible say what we want it to say. The Bible can function as a mirror which can distort us like a carnival mirror with its own prejudices but it can also show us, through ancient wisdom, how we have distorted ourselves in passing fad and fancy.

A person who is quickly becoming a teacher of mine, Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg out of Chicago, reflected on why Jewish people are so pro-choice. First, Jewish law allows for abortion. She writes

For the first 40 days of gestation, a fetus is considered “mere fluid” . . . , and the fetus is regarded as part of the mother for the duration of the pregnancy. It is not considered to have the status of personhood until birth . . .[7]

Rabbi Ruttenberg goes on to show that even in the most right-wing schools of Jewish legal thought, abortion and a mother’s choice is given authority. An important Israeli ultra-orthodox rabbi wrote in his treatise, “It is clear that in Jewish law an Israelite is not liable to capital punishment for feticide…. An Israelite woman was permitted to undergo a therapeutic abortion, even though her life was not at stake…. This permissive ruling applies even when there is no direct threat to the life of the mother, but merely a need to save her from great pain, which falls within the rubric of ‘great need.’”[8]

Ruttenberg goes on to state how ironic it is that many Christian people use the Scripture verses I mentioned from Jeremiah and the Psalms, Scriptures found in the Hebrew Scriptures, in the Old Testament, to prove that life begins at conception. But those Scripture passages, Rabbi Ruttenberg points out, are not in the form of Jewish legal code. They are in poetic form—meant to convey deeper meaning about vocation and care.

Finally, Rabbi Ruttenberg suggests that one of the ultimate reasons Jewish people are probably so pro-choice is because Jewish people know what it is like to be in a place where other people’s religious convictions are the ones that carry the day. As a result, the Jewish people have come to see truth with far more gray areas, much more complex—far different than Colonialist Christians who believe that faith is measured by exerting their will, being very clear on how well they know God’s viewpoint on truth and sin. With each passing empire, Jewish people have had to ask, “Will there be allowances made by those who make the rules and laws for how we Jews feel about the kinship and sovereignty with and over the land, the kinship and sovereignty we Jews have with and over our own bodies?”

That is a critical question which is developing a new ethic I hope will be included in future writing of the award-winning sexuality curriculum, “Our Whole Lives” we try to be about at our church. The ethic is one of “bodily autonomy.”

A father writes that he is the parent of a young son with Down’s syndrome. His worries and fears for his son and the extended disabled community include mandatory institutionalization, forced sterilization and other eugenic practices, involuntary surgery, mandatory drug regimes, denial of rights for disabled parents, protection for disabled children from violent caregivers and teachers, and lack of accommodation for non-typical bodies. In each of those potentially harmful situations, what is required is that the government refrain from coercing holy and divine disabled bodies and protecting holy and divine disabled bodies from private coercion.[9] Similar arguments might be made for the holy and divine bodies of LGBTQ+ people, the bodies of people of color, the bodies of the poor, and, of course, the holy and divine bodies of girls and women.

Incredibly, when we even seem to be having arguments in our country whether women have sovereignty over their bodies when it comes to sexual violence, genital mutilation, we know that we are somehow saying that a little over half of us were not made in the image of God, knit by Creator within our mother’s womb.

“You’re not the boss of my body!”

Rev. Courtney Stange-Treagar, the Pacific Northwest Conference Minister for Church Vitality makes it clear how bodily autonomy is an ethic we seemingly hold very dear:

Bodily autonomy is a human right. It means that each one of us have the right to give blood or not, donate a kidney or not, give our bodies after death to medical research or not. We might feel strongly that an individual should donate their blood or body parts, but we cannot force that decision. We most certainly don't advocate criminalizing that decision.

If your spouse or parent were dying and needing one of your kidneys to save their life, you might feel compelled to make that decision to save their life. It likely would be a very serious decision that you weigh very carefully. You might in the end decide to give your kidney or you might in the end decide that you don't have the ability to make that donation from your own body. All manner of responses might come from your friends and family, but you will not go to jail for this.

Why do we talk as though abortion is killing a baby, but refusing to donate a kidney isn't murder?[10]

Bodily autonomy is a human right.

There is one Scripture verse I am surprised has been little used in the midst of the abortion debate. In the Gospel of Matthew and in the extra-canonical Gospel of Thomas, Jesus says that it is not what goes into a person that defiles or corrupts a person.[11] It is what comes out. In other words, we are not to judge or discern as finished what remains interior but only as it is known outside the body. To me, that reading of Scripture seems as justifiable as quoting Jeremiah, the Psalms, or Galatians as proof of personhood. We are not held accountable for gestational thoughts but for words or actions made manifest outside of our body.

As people of faith, contrary to what we hear in the wider world, we are people who recognize that there are more colors to the rainbow than black and white. Faith opens us not to certainty but to deep questions, mystery, and recognizing that there are limits and boundaries to our own point of view, to our own decisions and bodily space. And that’s important on an issue of great passion on either side. We also recognize that when women lose a pregnancy, for whatever reason, we know that something is gone and may need to be grieved.

We know that. And it can be incredibly traumatic, even if that lost pregnancy is due to a choice made for abortion. There can be tremendous grief.

It is also to remember that the Religious Right has been so prolific, that Christian colonialism gets into us, infects us, all of us, such that some women who have abortions will go through tremendous guilt, regret, and deep pain. Out of care and love, we must extend ourselves.

Patriarchy may thread through our tradition as Christians but, at the heart of our tradition, we are to love God and love neighbor in a sometimes foggy and unclear path. We are the bosses of our own holy and divine bodies so that we may beautifully, clumsily, and sometimes awkwardly, love one another. Sometimes love is expressed through the open arms of an embrace. Sometimes love is expressed through proper boundaries that say, “I am the boss of my own body. And you get to be the boss of your own body.” Amen.