“Clerical malfeasance,” says Sipe, “has always centered on three issues: power, money, and sex” (Sipe in Shupe, 2007, p. preface).”
I am still lashed to the mast of my faith. The storm is over, the waves and the wind have obeyed.
Now, I’m not much of a drinker, I like to have lots of self-control within easy reach. After that raw discourse yesterday, I have a vulnerability hangover.
This was not then, and is not now, a power neutral conversation. The alleged offenders are esteemed members of your organization and alleged Christian leaders.
Clerical malfeasors lie to the lies in you…
I’m about to spit nails. People wield the language of CHOICE like a weapon. I’ll tell you who talks about CHOICE like that… People who damn well have it. That’s who.
How could I have been so blind? The answer is very simple – my eyes had been beaten shut.
Where does that leave us? We, the majority for whom justice will never be adjudicated and for whom victory is a vapor?
His approach was stealth, quiet, brooding, and dark. He came over my soul and spirit and in one bite severed my hands. Not my heart, no – my hands. I could no longer grasp the driftwood or the bread of hope.
I too hunger for justice, truth and hope.
If you need me, you will find me in a secret and sacred place.
With an upturned chin to Him who is Justice, Truth, and Hope.
The coffee is hot.
The candles are lit.
The flame is small but bright enough to illuminate the way.