#ShutTheHellUp: Day Two

#ShutTheHellUp... To convey a visceral Gospel, we must sometimes use visceral language.

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(This is a week old repost. If you want to stay current visit Medium.com/fuckthisshit to stay caught up with the Advent calendar.)


Defile. Psalm 79:1.

When I think about temples, my mind immediately travels to flesh and blood bodies as sacred temples, created in God’s holy and diverse image. Over the course of time, I think about how these temples have been named as marred and unholy.

I think about the cacophony of voices that claim a “Christian” faith, but have followed the unchristian practice of hammering nails into the vulnerable flesh of Christ’s body.

They are causing the outright harm of beloved people that are created as holy temples.

Everywhere I turn, I see the words that defile. I see actions that defile. Those in power have historically used words and have taken outright action to defile black, brown, indigenous, Jewish, disabled, and trans beloveds; those words and actions are amplified in this present day. Those in power who claim to follow Christ are laying Jerusalem in ruins. They are foregoing the inheritance that God has given them; they have ransacked the temple for their own gains. There are too many ways to express how those who claim to follow Christ have actually defiled the Savior’s very name and image.

“O God, the nations have come into your inheritance;
they have defiled your holy temple;
they have laid Jerusalem in ruins.”

Seeing these defiling words just not daily, but now minute by minute, are disorienting. The days and minutes are now stretching out to an eternity; my heart and my being are confused in this the midst of this disorientation. How can I keep up? Can I even keep up? I used to wake up reciting the words, “This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.” As time progressed, it changed to “What the actual fuck is going on?” In these very recent days, it’s pretty much been, “Okay Jesus. Take the wheel.” The awfulness of what is happening in these days is enough to make me want to crawl back into bed and await the second coming of Christ.

I’m also noticing the defilement that has taken place within my own bones. I am angry. My anger is righteous and holy, and that anger serves as a spiritual gift to call out injustices taking place in the world. But I see defilement in my exhaustion, the lack of care I’ve given to this temple that God has gifted to me. The exhaustion comes as a brown woman living in a hostile environment that perpetuates a system of power and privilege that disregards my very existence and the existence of people I love, with that hostility causing a poisonous resentment in my own being. I’m tired of outside forces defiling and marring my body and my being, what I know God has created to be holy. I’m also tired of my own self-defilement, letting so-called “Christians” steal my energy and joy. It’s become unsettling and disorienting.

 

I then remember every year that the season of Advent stretches out time, and that in itself is disorienting. Beginnings become endings, and endings become beginnings. It’s the time of anxious waiting, watching, hoping, and praying for the vulnerable baby to arrive in a manger to take on our being and experiences. Yet it is also waiting for Christ to come again to make this world anew, to end this constant and violent defilement that takes place in these days. It is time to not just await that second coming that brings with it fullness and, dare I say joy, that has been made manifest in our midst, but also for us to live into that anticipation of fullness in these present days in a community of beloveds.

In this time of disorientation, I seek to reorient myself. I will reorient myself to find a rebellious joy. I will reorient myself, my time, and my being to anxiously await the arrival of a vulnerable child who will grow up to rebuke evil and death. I anxiously await the arrival of that child as a crucified and resurrected flesh and blood body who will reorient this world, who will rebuke those who take his name and defile it with grandeur and power that focuses only on the mighty.

May we all encourage one another to take on that rebellious joy and spread that joy to our communities. May we reorient ourselves to care for ourselves and to care for one another.

May we reorient ourselves over and over again to the one who, in the profanity of flesh and blood vulnerability, proclaims our temples as holy and rebukes those who have defiled God’s holy creation.

Defile. Psalm 79:1.

When I think about temples, my mind immediately travels to flesh and blood bodies as sacred temples, created in God’s holy and diverse image. Over the course of time, I think about how these temples have been named as marred and unholy.

I think about the cacophony of voices that claim a “Christian” faith, but have followed the unchristian practice of hammering nails into the vulnerable flesh of Christ’s body.

They are causing the outright harm of beloved people that are created as holy temples.

Everywhere I turn, I see the words that defile. I see actions that defile. Those in power have historically used words and have taken outright action to defile black, brown, indigenous, Jewish, disabled, and trans beloveds; those words and actions are amplified in this present day. Those in power who claim to follow Christ are laying Jerusalem in ruins. They are foregoing the inheritance that God has given them; they have ransacked the temple for their own gains. There are too many ways to express how those who claim to follow Christ have actually defiled the Savior’s very name and image.

“O God, the nations have come into your inheritance;
they have defiled your holy temple;
they have laid Jerusalem in ruins.”

Seeing these defiling words just not daily, but now minute by minute, are disorienting. The days and minutes are now stretching out to an eternity; my heart and my being are confused in this the midst of this disorientation. How can I keep up? Can I even keep up? I used to wake up reciting the words, “This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.” As time progressed, it changed to “What the actual fuck is going on?” In these very recent days, it’s pretty much been, “Okay Jesus. Take the wheel.” The awfulness of what is happening in these days is enough to make me want to crawl back into bed and await the second coming of Christ.

I’m also noticing the defilement that has taken place within my own bones. I am angry. My anger is righteous and holy, and that anger serves as a spiritual gift to call out injustices taking place in the world. But I see defilement in my exhaustion, the lack of care I’ve given to this temple that God has gifted to me. The exhaustion comes as a brown woman living in a hostile environment that perpetuates a system of power and privilege that disregards my very existence and the existence of people I love, with that hostility causing a poisonous resentment in my own being. I’m tired of outside forces defiling and marring my body and my being, what I know God has created to be holy. I’m also tired of my own self-defilement, letting so-called “Christians” steal my energy and joy. It’s become unsettling and disorienting.

 

I then remember every year that the season of Advent stretches out time, and that in itself is disorienting. Beginnings become endings, and endings become beginnings. It’s the time of anxious waiting, watching, hoping, and praying for the vulnerable baby to arrive in a manger to take on our being and experiences. Yet it is also waiting for Christ to come again to make this world anew, to end this constant and violent defilement that takes place in these days. It is time to not just await that second coming that brings with it fullness and, dare I say joy, that has been made manifest in our midst, but also for us to live into that anticipation of fullness in these present days in a community of beloveds.

In this time of disorientation, I seek to reorient myself. I will reorient myself to find a rebellious joy. I will reorient myself, my time, and my being to anxiously await the arrival of a vulnerable child who will grow up to rebuke evil and death. I anxiously await the arrival of that child as a crucified and resurrected flesh and blood body who will reorient this world, who will rebuke those who take his name and defile it with grandeur and power that focuses only on the mighty.

May we all encourage one another to take on that rebellious joy and spread that joy to our communities. May we reorient ourselves to care for ourselves and to care for one another.

May we reorient ourselves over and over again to the one who, in the profanity of flesh and blood vulnerability, proclaims our temples as holy and rebukes those who have defiled God’s holy creation.

About The Author

Tuhina Verma Rasche Pastoring Lutheran-style in Silicon Valley. (Un)Intended disruptor. Loves/ freaked out by Jesus. Indian-American living life in the hyphen.

#ShutTheHellUp is a organized by Tuhine Verma Rasche and Jason Chestnut. They rely on a collective of authors to grapple with messages of the Advent season. Find out more at Medium.com/FuckThisShit