[thoughts on ableist language and why it matters (resource)]

You might never have even thought that sentences like "He was blind to the realities of his flaws"  or "Legislative changes crippled the economy" could be offensive to some people, but they are.

Ableist language is the use of words like lame, blind, crippling, retarded, and more to describe people or situations that have nothing to do with ability. I recently came across a well-written article on ableist language, written by Rachel Cohen-Rottenberg.

She addresses ten questions about why ableist language matters. Here is one of the questions she addresses:

5. I would never use the N-word because people of color are part of an oppressed group. But disabled people aren't really oppressed. Are they?

Yes, disabled people are members of an oppressed group, and disability rights are a civil rights issue. Disabled people are assaulted at higher rates, live in poverty at higher rates, and are unemployed at higher rates than nondisabled people.

We face widespread exclusion, discrimination, and human rights violations. For an example of what some of the issues are, please take some time over at the Disability Social History Project.

From 10 Questions About Why Ableist Language matters, Answered (source)

What I really appreciate about the article is Cohen-Rottenberg's grasp of the deeper issues behind these questions, including historical contexts and narratives, and the succinct and clear way she responds to them. Check out the rest of the article to learn more!

[held in the memories...]

I find it very reassuring, for example, to know that I am held in the memories of God — that the only being who can know me for who I really am, who I was created to be, will remember me properly, no matter what happens to me on earth.

Laura Bardolph Hubers, in her review of 

Swinton's Dementia: Living in the Memories of God.

I really appreciate what this says about the value of people, based in God who truly knows us and who does not forget.

[the table I long for...]

"The Table I long for, the Church I long for, is one where all are not just welcome but desperately & fiercely wanted." @jeffchu #GCNConf
— Rachel Held Evans (@rachelheldevans) January 9, 2015

Yes and yes!

Here are Jeff Chu's other comments on the table he longs for and the church he hopes for:

The table I long for, the church I hope for, is a place where we let others see where the spirit meets the wound, and we help heal those wounds.

The table I long for and the church I hope for has the grace of the gospel as its magnificent centerpiece. 

The table I long for and the church I hope for is where we care more about our companions than about winning our arguments with them, where we set aside the condescension that accompanies our notion that we need to bring them our truth.

The table I long for and the church I hope for has each of you sitting around it, struggling to hold the knowledge that you, vulnerable you and courageous you, are beloved by God, not just welcome but desperately and fiercely wanted.

The table I long for and the church I hope for is made of rough-hewn humility, nailed together by a jesus who has given us this ridiculous freedom to be wrong and yet still be made right.

The table I hope for and the church I long for is a place where we love especially when it isn't easy, allowing us to be vulnerable, inviting every voice to join the conversation, pushing us meal by meal towards community, towards communion.

Can we build that kind of table? Can we be that kind of church? I think so. And at that table, we're going to eat family style.

Watch Jeff Chu's entire talk from the GCN Conference (he starts at about the 45 minute mark).
Read Jeff Chu's talk online at his website.

[america in three words]

I've been reading William Stringfellow's An Ethic for Christians & Other Aliens in a Strange Land, which I received as an early Christmas gift from my buddy Don. Not an easy read, and certainly challenging in terms of how one sees the world. Take this quote as an example:

The illusion has been that, in the aftermath of the Second World War, America succeeded British Imperialism and French Colonialism in the world, but the truth is that America succeeded Nazi Germany. That is to say, the ethos of Nazism, the mentality of Nazism, the social ethic of Nazism survives, prospers, and more and more prevails in specific American versions—not literally identical to the particulars of Nazism, but nonetheless having the same moral identity as Nazism—which can be symbolized and summarized in three words: war, racism, genocide.

Stringfellow, p. 125
Italics in original
Other formats by me.

War: Ongoing, in the Middle East. Other "skirmishes" in other parts of the world. And the legalized war against people of colour within the U.S. itself.
Racism: Systemic across the U.S.
Genocide: the American holocaust - killing the indigenous peoples of Turtle Island (North America).

God help us.


p.s. Ironically, parts of the book read as if it was written post-Ferguson, though it was actually published in 1973. When Stringfellow talks about the principalities and powers of darkness, he is talking about systematic racism (among other things). Very timely.

auto-basileia

Basileia is an ancient Greek word meaning "kingdom".

Auto-basileia is related to basileia, but quite different in resulting meaning.

I was recently introduced to the term in "The Church and the kingdom of God" by Drew G.I. Hart, an article which really resonated with me. In particular, I like the term "auto-basileia" and his explanation of it:

Simply put, the kingdom of God is anywhere King Jesus is present in any particular place. The most important thing to remember about the kingdom of God is that it's not the Church (though there is close association between the two) but it is Jesus himself. For this reason Origen famously described Jesus as “autobasileia”. Jesus embodied the reign of God all by himself! That means that wherever Jesus is present, the kingdom of God has come near!

Drew G.I. Hart

As you can tell from Drew's reference to Origen, one of the church fathers, the idea has been around for a long time... and perhaps needs to be re-introduced to our time and place.

So what does the kingdom of God look like? It looks like Jesus:

• we serve others
• we wash their feet
• we embrace those at the margins of society (for Jesus, this included lepers, Samaritans, prostitutes, tax collectors and more) 
• we feed the hungry
• we give the thirsty something to drink
• we invite strangers into our lives and communities
• we clothe the naked
• we care for the sick
• we visit those in prison
• we serve one another
• we wash their feet
• we preach a gospel that really is good news
• we heal the sick
• we clean out the temple (hmm...)
• we give our lives for others

Very upside-down. Very opposite to our earthly kingdoms and aspirations. Hart goes on to discuss what this kingdom-king looks like, and how the least being first and the marginalized being at the center goes hand-in-hand with this king/kingdom Jesus.  Read the article!

Here's Pope Benedict on the subject:

Jesus himself is the Kingdom; the Kingdom is not a thing, it is not a geographical dominion like worldly kingdoms. It is a person; it is he. On this interpretation, the term "Kingdom of God" is itself a veiled Christology. By the way in which he speaks of the Kingdom of God, Jesus leads men to realize the overwhelming fact that in him God himself is present among them, that he is God's presence.

Pope Benedict, in his book Jesus of Nazareth (p. 49)