with every utterance
of that word p i e r c i n g
my ears, sharp and heavy,
I must physically heave
shoulders U P under that weight
balanced there, pause— i n h a l e ,
hold him uncomfortable,
unwieldy — unconscious to all
else while he rousts, bloody
bluebird failing at innocence
suffer its history: s t r u t t i n g
neglect, improper ordering of human
dignity and decaying other-deprecation,
seek any Light remaining in this language...
finding none, finally e x h a l e —
throw back shoulder boulder
let it r o l l down my back.
as this is Sunday morning,
brace for the next wave.
hope to hear some Good between
it is not this way for all,
some let it f l u t t e r overhead
or welcome the crashing wash
as this title crafts their countenance,
they revel in the alteration
I do not have to s t a y ,
but perhaps I am stronger
through this particular practice,
power in mindful non-participation
character chiseled by discomfort
As I have gotten older, I've progressed further from the language of my childhood, choosing words that better suit my understanding and hopes of theology.
As I have gotten older, I've progressed further from the language of my childhood, choosing words that better suit my understanding and hopes of theology. I am doing what I can to heal my relationship with the Divine by refusing to use male pronouns. I sometimes use female language, or gender neutral language. But I most prefer to use words that speak to positivity, and create a whole new canvas for God / Godde. Words like Light and Hope. As I do this work for myself, I become more triggered when old, thoughtless language appears at church services and other places.
But I most prefer to use words that speak to positivity, and create a whole new canvas for God... Words like Light and Hope.
This happens most often during the music portion at church services, and while other people are praying out loud. A word that continues to stick out to me is "Lord". This word is not only a male word, but it also implies a hierarchy that comes out of slavery and serfdom. It places the hearer as a servant, a slave, a worthless creature. My Quaker faith speaks of human dignity, of our inherent worth. So I wince every time the word "Lord" shows up on Sunday morning. If you sit next to me you might hear me sing "Love" as a replacement word.
My Quaker faith speaks of human dignity, of our inherent worth...you might hear me sing "Love" as a replacement word.
Deli talks about her experience with Trauma Theology, and how our lived experiences bring us closer to God.
Indy discusses her history with disordered eating, and how fatphobia has no place in the church.