Monday, July 22, 2013

The Angry Jesus

This service was intended to help people through the emotions deriving from the George Zimmerman trial for the murder of Trayvon Martin.

Buddha and the Angry Man

One day Buddha was walking through a village. A very angry and rude young man came up and began insulting him.

“You have no right teaching others,” he shouted. “You are as stupid as everyone else. You are nothing but a fake.”

Buddha was not upset by these insults. Instead he asked the young man “Tell me, if you buy a gift for someone, and that person does not take it, to whom does the gift belong?”

The man was surprised to be asked such a strange question and answered, “It would belong to me, because I bought the gift.”

The Buddha smiled and said, “That is correct. And it is exactly the same with your anger. If you become angry with me and I do not get insulted, then the anger falls back on you. You are then the only one who becomes unhappy, not me. All you have done is hurt yourself.

“If you want to stop hurting yourself, you must get rid of your anger and become loving instead. When you hate others, you yourself become unhappy. But when you love others, everyone is happy.”

The young man listened closely to these wise words of the Buddha. “You are right, O Blessed One,” he said. “Please teach me the path of love. I wish to become your follower.”

The Buddha answered kindly, “Of course. I teach anyone who truly wants to learn. Come with me.”

Reflection - Mark, chapter 3:1-5
Jesus entered the synagogue and a man was there who had a withered hand. The Pharisees watched Jesus to see whether he would cure the man on the Sabbath, so that they might accuse him. Jesus said to the man, “Come forward.” Then he said to them, “Is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the Sabbath, to save life or to kill?” But they were silent. He looked around at them with anger; he was grieved at their hardness of heart and said to the man, “Stretch out your hand.” He stretched it out, and his hand was restored.
The Bible abounds with allegory, metaphor, and other non-literal parables. In this case, however, the story would appear abundantly literal and blunt. When confronted with suffering, Jesus not only ignored the Law, but disobeyed the Law publicly and in the full view of those responsible for its legislation. Jesus angrily called out the Pharisees for their adherence to an unjust rule. He committed no violence, nor did he stand by idly in passive submission.

Sermon – The Angry Jesus

When I was a child, I attended Sunday School regularly at a Christian Community Church in Ohio, and often participated in their summer vacation Bible camps. I remember hearing the traditional stories about Jesus and coloring pictures of him preaching, healing the sick, and feeding the thousands. I remember memorizing verses to recite during games like spelling bees. I was a real dork, so I always excelled at those kinds of competitions. As I recall, most of the versions of the stories that I learned in my childhood came from the Gospel of Matthew. Then, every year at Christmastime, we would visit the saga of Jesus’ birth and the Nativity as told in the Gospel of Luke.

Imagine my surprise when, as an adult, I finally read the Gospel According to Mark. Many of the stories are the same as ones told in Matthew and Luke. But, the Jesus in Mark is not the Jesus of coloring books. In fact, he is often not at all a nice person. This Jesus gets frustrated with his disciples, when they repeatedly fail to understand his teaching. This Jesus tells off the community leaders who he feels misinterpret the Laws of Moses. This Jesus even gets angry at ordinary people who come to him for help. Once I got over the shock, I really liked this Jesus. This was a Jesus with a backbone, someone I could admire.

But then, I became more confused. You see, my favorite part of the Gospels is the Sermon on the Mount. And I had trouble reconciling my new image of Jesus with that of the man who asserted that the meek would inherit the earth. I think that part of the conflict I faced was over that word...meek. I never quite fathomed what it was about being meek that warranted acceptance in the eyes of God.

As I often do when I have difficulty over the language in a specific verse, I consulted my Parallel New Testament. This wonderful resource displays eight different versions of the Bible all on the same facing pages, so you can study the variations, which are often quite striking. In this case, however, I found relative agreement. Every version of the New Testament used the word meek...except for one. Only the New American Standard Bible quotes Jesus as saying, “Blessed are the gentle, for they shall inherit the earth.”

This discovery sparked my curiosity, so I looked up the definition of the word meek in the dictionary. The first definition concurred with my original interpretation of the verse – easily imposed on; submissive. I never imagined that Jesus taught us to be gullible. The second definition paralleled the New American Standard Bible translation - showing patience and humility; gentle. It seemed to me that this second definition of the word meek – showing patience and humility; gentle – was the one Jesus really meant. Patience, not passivity, would eventually rule the earth.

This kind of difference in Biblical translations, quite frankly, evokes in me the same emotions Jesus frequently expressed in Mark. The myriad of versions of biblical scriptures frustrates me because such ambiguity produces wholly unnecessary division and rancor. The insistence of different Christian denominations on the validity of their particular translation angers me, because the historical evidence for one over another remains insufficient. At best, the most reliable extant accounts of the ministry of the man known as Jesus the Nazarene was written almost 40 years after his death. Can you relate with any accuracy conversations you overheard 40 years ago?

Like the Jesus in Mark, I weary of the anger and frustration such unclarity produces. I grow fatigued of debating scripture with those convinced that they know conclusively what Jesus preached, even though the gospels are filled with inconsistencies and known historical inaccuracies. Whenever I think of the thousands and thousands of people over the centuries who have lost their lives over differing interpretations of the many texts considered sacred by religious adherents, my blood boils. I remember our own Unitarian ancestors, burned at the stake, or condemned to die in prisons for their religious convictions. Most concerning for me, however, is how the anger I feel over textual disagreements makes me less likely to engage with my Christian colleagues in other, meaningful ways.

The point of my discovery, however, was not finding yet another bone of contention for scholarly debate. As much as the historian in me enjoys studying the context of words, and the meanings of idioms and metaphors commonly used in first century Palestine, the gist of this particular epiphany for me was far more personal. For now, I could see how a frustrated Jesus, an argumentative Jesus, even an angry Jesus, could also promote meekness. Because I, too, can imagine expressing my frustration patiently; I can envision stating an argument humbly, yet directly; and I can even think of ways to release my anger gently and compassionately.

As with the wisdom of all great religions, one does not need to adhere to the dogma of a specific faith to find meaning in its language. Jesus shows us throughout the Christian gospels how best to deal with emotions like anger and frustration. Take time alone to separate yourself from the stressors in your life for calm meditation and reflection; if someone gives you cause to be angry, tell them – don’t bottle up your emotions in shame, guilt, or fear of another’s reactions to your honest communication; and, yes, sometimes you need to go into the temple and toss a few tables around. For me, Jesus does not need to be divine to be a wise role model. His actions speak loudly, teaching us ways to cope with our very human feelings and emotions.

Last Sunday morning, we awoke to the news that the jury in the case of the murder of Trayvon Martin had found George Zimmerman not guilty. I was not scheduled to be in the pulpit that morning but I debated coming to the Fellowship anyway. Regardless of whatever service the Worship Ministry Team had planned, I considered coming and leading some kind of activity to help you deal with this news and the emotions you might have been feeling.

But, my anger was simply too great. My heart was sick and my mind was ablaze. No matter how I envisioned it, I could not imagine myself leading anything that would be healing or helpful. I knew that I had to heal myself first before I had any chance of helping or advising you.

I also knew that I needed to be in solidarity with African American people. That morning, of all mornings, I needed to be physically in the presence of the people most truly damaged by this tragic story, which sadly repeats itself in cities and towns across this country every day. I needed to be in the presence of their emotions and to do whatever I could as an ally.

So Jody and I went to the Zion Missionary Baptist Church in Saginaw. We picked this church because they had made an impressive showing at the Great Lakes Region AIDS Walk last fall and I imagined them to be comrades in justice if not so much in theology. I’m not sure what I expected their worship service to be like – I simply knew that I needed to worship with them that morning.

We were greeted by dozens of people. Every one of them was happy to be there and thrilled to meet us. I heard no conversations about the trial, or frankly much conversation about anything that was troubling anyone present. During the entire two hour service, not one mention was made of Trayvon Martin or the verdict. The focus of the sermon was on the importance of taking our problems to God and not complaining when we face challenges. Nothing but joy filled the room and I detected no trace of the heaviness I anticipated on the minds and hearts of those present.

My brain found little to agree with in their message, but my heart left the building less burdened. I returned home no more able to cope with the question of why such injustice exists, but better able to deal with my anger about that injustice. Their worship service reminded me of the need to be gentle, to be active, yet patient and humble.

For what exactly is anger? For Buddhists, anger is a poison. Anger is the hot coal you intend to throw at your enemy yet burns your own hand. Anger is something that we create within ourselves. The jury rendering its verdict did not somehow magically inject me with anger. I allowed my fears to create that anger. I allowed my fear of never ending racism, of never ending violence, of never ending injustice to plant anger into the soil of my soul. And my ego nurtured that seed into a personal anger, an incapacitating venom rendering me helpless and self-absorbed.

So what do we do when society presents us with injustice? What do we do when politicians trample our rights? What do we do when the greedy and power-mad erode our democracy? How do we respond to wrong, to oppression, to evil?

First, we must recognize and admit that we are angry. Don’t run from it, don’t hide it away, don’t deny that it exists. Be mindful of your anger and honest with your humanity. The greatest prophets of love and peace in human history got angry. You should feel no shame in feeling the same.

Next, ask yourself why you are angry. Why was I angry last Sunday morning? The outcome of this trial has little, if any, impact on my life. The verdict has little, if any, impact on the lives of people I know. And, given the long history of institutionalized racism in America, this trial will likely have little impact on the lives of people of color, even in Sanford Florida.

I was angry because the verdict was not the one I wanted. I was angry because my vision of the world faced one more infinitesimally small delay to its fruition. I was angry because I made myself angry. I was angry because I wanted to feel anger about the situation. Ultimately, I was angry because I was selfish.

And out of my selfish desire to feel anger, I resigned myself to the anger – to the helplessness and hopelessness of the poison. This self-indulgence, this careful cultivation of anger makes it impossible to respond to a situation in a positive way. Anger keeps us from responding with love and with kindness. The Dhammapada says, “He who holds back rising anger like a rolling chariot, him I call a real driver; other people are but holding the reins.” Anger turns our lives into runaway cars careening down the highway, sideswiping other vehicles.

What is the alternative? Patience. Patience until we can act without harming others. We take the reins of our rolling chariot and control the horses of anger. Think back to last Sunday morning, or to any other time this week when something angered you. Relive that moment. Feel the hurt of that moment. Now ask yourself, “Why am I angry?” Don’t push the anger away. Don’t cover it up or hide it. Allow yourself to feel the anger. Ask yourself again, “Why am I angry?” Feel the reins in your hands. Grip the leather. Start pulling back on the straps. Feel the resistance, but pull harder until the vibrations throb through your arms.

As you manage the reins, know in your mind that the anger will not help you deal with the problem. Know in your heart that the anger will not help you deal with the hurt. Know in your gut that the anger will not help you respond to those you blame for the anger.

The Dhammapada continues, advising us to overcome anger by love, to overcome evil by good, to overcome the greedy by liberality, and to overcome the liar by truth. We weed the anger out of our gardens by cultivating love – love for others coping with anger as well as those we might see as the source of that anger. We conquer evil in the world not by using the tools of the evildoers, but by doing even more good ourselves.

We reveal the greedy not through violence or revenge, but by being even more giving, more liberal with our generosity. We defeat the liar by telling the truth. And we wield that truth not as a sword, but as a scythe. We swing the scythe of truth to cut down the weeds of lies, of corruption, and of false assumptions. We swing the scythe of truth to harvest the grain of understanding and compassion.

But, most important, we follow the example of Jesus – not the angry Jesus, but the gentle and patient Jesus. When faced with an unjust law, with a law that oppresses and hurts our neighbors, we rein in our anger and drive the chariot of disobedience. When society calls on us to hate, to marginalize, to objectify the “other,” we resist. When we feel anger rising up inside, we stand our ground – not with violence, not with murderous intent, not with self-righteousness. We stand our ground of love, of good, of giving, and of truth.

We all feel anger when others hurt us, intentionally or not, directly or indirectly. We all know that gut twisted sensation, that rush of blood to our heads, that tensing of muscles in our shoulders and chest. When that feeling arises, stand your ground. Feel the love and the goodness. Be mindful of the power of charity and truth. And when you give this of yourself, it will be returned a hundred fold by others.

Closing Words – From the Dedication of the Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. National Memorial by Barack Obama, November 13, 2006

Like Moses before him, [Martin Luther King, Jr.] would never live to see the Promised Land. But from the mountain top, he pointed the way for us – a land no longer torn asunder with racial hatred and ethnic strife, a land that measured itself by how it treats the least of these, a land in which strength is defined not simply by the capacity to wage war but by the determination to forge peace – a land in which all of God's children might come together in a spirit of [brotherhood].

We have not yet arrived at this longed for place. For all the progress we have made, there are times when the land of our dreams recedes from us – when we are lost, wandering spirits, content with our suspicions and our angers, our long-held grudges and petty disputes, our frantic diversions and tribal allegiances. And yet…we are reminded that this different, better place beckons us, and that we will find it not across distant hills or within some hidden valley, but rather we will find it somewhere in our hearts.

Sunday, July 14, 2013

Mourning

I mourn for the family of Trayvon Martin. I mourn for every person of color who feels even less safe now than they did yesterday. I mourn for us all as a society when we care more about unfettered gun possession than we do the sanctity of life.

Every time I write our Senator John Moolenaar about the outrageous assaults happening in Lansing on reproductive freedom or about his own misguided twisting of the concept of religious freedom, he responds touting his belief in the sanctity of life. Where are his so-called “pro-life” ideals now?

Where is the pro-life movement when 400,000 Michiganders need Medicare expansion? Where is the pro-life movement when programs supporting living, breathing children are defunded to support tax breaks for corporations and the super-rich? Where is the pro-life movement when lobbyists try to push more guns and bullets into schools and churches, hospitals and day-care centers? And where is the pro-life movement when Trayvon Martins die every day on our streets?

If you are not outraged at the outcome of the Trayvon Martin murder trial, then do not dare call yourself pro-life. If you care more about forcing unnecessary and invasive vaginal ultrasounds on women than providing them with affordable access to birth control and health care, then do not dare call yourself pro-life. If you live in Midland and do nothing about the fact that Saginaw - our neighbor just 30 miles away - ranks as the #1 most dangerous city for women IN THE ENTIRE U.S., then do not dare call yourself pro-life.

For you are Trayvon Martin. Today, tomorrow, or the next day, a George Zimmerman could stalk, attack, and murder you or your son, your nephew, or your neighbor’s boy and walk away unpunished. When the injustice and stupidity was great enough, even Jesus got angry.

I will continue to be nonviolent, because violence only begets more violence. I will continue to love my neighbors, even when they seek to trample the right of women, GLBT folk, people of color, and immigrants. I will continue to try to find the good in legislators who ignore their own rules of conduct, who seek no public comment or expert opinions, and who pass bills in the dead of night while democracy sleeps. But I will be nice no longer. And neither should you.

Truth and Meaning: Nice

Truth and Meaning: Nice

Clergy work in a world of words. Sometimes those words come from sacred sources, texts written by those listening to the mouth of god. Other times, our words come from saints and prophets, or great thinkers and theologians.

Today, my inspiration comes from a more modern sage, Patrick Swayze. In the film Road House, Swayze plays a zen-like bouncer, a master of martial arts and a scholar of philosophy. Teaching his new students the art of being a “cooler,” he tells them that they should be nice … until it is time to not be nice.

Nice is an apt word for Michiganders, for that quaint Midwestern attitude of people who strive never to offend others. Nice is especially appropriate for Midlanders. For we live in a nice town. Like another philosophical film, Pleasantville, Midland is a nice town. There is no crime in Midland — at least not the kind of crime you find in other cities like Flint or Detroit. No one in Midland lives in their car, or roots through dumpsters for meals. Like the residents of Pleasantville, everyone in Midland is colorblind. We treat everyone the same regardless of their race, their ethnicity, their sexual orientation or gender identity.

Midlanders elect polite, conservative politicians because we want nice government. We don’t need food stamps or medical insurance assistance. We don’t have unplanned pregnancies and we don’t traffic in women. We trust money to trickle down and politicians to not be swayed by greed and corruption, by private interests with deep pockets.

Nice is good. And, I want you to be nice. I want you to be nice … until it is time to not be nice.

Well, that time is coming.

In Texas, women are being dragged out of legislative chambers. All across America’s heartland, people are being arrested for stopping a pipeline. And just down the road in Lansing, the protests are growing — protests for guaranteed medical insurance for all, for marriage equality, for letting doctors and their patients make medical decisions, for restoring democracy, and for keeping intact the wall separating church and state.

When anti-intellectual fundamentalists run our government, it is time to not be nice. When the powerful and greedy seek to control all of the wealth and property, it is time to not be nice. When bigots seek to oppress women, people of color, GLBT folk, immigrants, and the poor, then it is time to not be nice.

Not being nice is hard. Fighting for human rights and liberties is hard. Swayze concluded his lesson by saying that we just need to watch each others’ backs, and take out the trash.

Monday, July 8, 2013

Truth and Meaning: Fascism

Truth and Meaning: Fascism

A popular discrediting tactic used by pundits is to compare an opponent’s position to something Hitler did. Even when the application of this comparison is ludicrous, the strategy can work because our visceral reaction to Nazism is so intense. And this is how it should be. The evils and inhuman achievements of the National Socialists in Germany in the 1930s and 1940s are legendary for their brutality and viciousness.

So let’s take a calm step back and deconstruct this loaded term of political ideology. The Italian term, fascismo is derived from fascio, which means "bundled (political) group." The term also refers to the movement's emblem, the fasces, a bundle of rods with a projecting axe-head that was carried before Roman magistrates as a symbol of authority and power. The name of Mussolini's group of revolutionaries was soon used for similar movements in other countries that sought to gain power through violence and ruthlessness.

Fascism, therefore, is defined as a system of government marked by centralization of authority, stringent socioeconomic controls, suppressed opposition through terror and censorship, and typically a policy of intolerance and bigotry. Fascism seeks to purify a nation of “foreign” influences deemed to be causing degeneration or of not fitting into the culture of society.

So let’s examine recent actions in so-called red states. Legislative rules ignored, voting rights under attack, gerrymandering, right to work laws undermining labor, vitriolic rhetoric aimed at anyone expressing progressive views, and the demonization of GLBT folk, non-Christians, immigrants, the poor and women. And everything backed by a small cabal of ultra-rich neo-conservatives intent on corrupting the system to protect their wealth and status.

I am not suggesting that the United States is heading down an inexorable path to a Fascist state. I am merely pointing out the tragic irony that politicians in Ohio, North Carolina, Texas, and here in Michigan who claim to support small government, who claim to support democracy, who claim to support inalienable freedoms seem to be employing the Fascist tool kit.

And what American hasn’t pondered the question, “Why didn’t the German people do more to oppose the Nazis?” Well, now is your chance to ask it again. When your government passes bills in the dead of night without public comment or debate, why don’t you do something? When local elected officials are dismissed by government-backed dictators, why don’t you do something? When government gets small enough to fit into a woman’s vagina, why don’t you do something? When religious zealots remove another brick from the wall of separation of church and state, why don’t you do something?

As the great American patriot Edward Everett Hale once said, “I am only one, but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something; and because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do something I can do.”

Sunday, June 30, 2013

Truth and Meaning: Are You a “None?”

Truth and Meaning: Are You a “None?”

The Pew Research Center’s Forum on Religion and Public Life completed a study of religion in America last year. One of their most significant findings was that the number of Americans who do not identify with any religion continues to grow at a rapid pace. One-fifth of the U.S. public are religiously unaffiliated, the highest percentage ever in Pew Research Center polling.

The religiously unaffiliated now include more than 13 million self-described atheists and agnostics (nearly 6 percent of the U.S. public), as well as nearly 33 million people who say they have no particular religious affiliation (14 percent). Much of this growth is occurring as Millennials (those ages 18-22) replace older generations. But generational replacement is not the only factor at play. Generation X’ers and Baby Boomers also have become more religiously unaffiliated in recent years. Interestingly, the overwhelming majority (74 percent) of the “nones” were brought up in a religious tradition.

And yet, many in the world of religion write off the “nones” as disinterested in organized religion, or in finding spiritual communities. Many clergy dismiss the religiously unaffiliated as lost souls unworthy of outreach efforts. This attitude prevails because roughly two-thirds of the unaffiliated (65 percent) say in surveys that religion is either “not too important” or “not at all important” in their life.

But I believe that many of these 40 million Americans simply find our current religious bodies irrelevant in modern times. They find churches of today that harbor hateful attitudes and outmoded orthodoxies. I believe that many of the “nones” will welcome a religious community that preaches hope instead of fear, action instead of creed, and love instead of damnation.

If religion is not relevant to solving the problems of the world, then it is just therapy. If religion does not offer hope for a better world here and now, then it is just a social outlet. If religion does not encourage us to live lives of Love, of fundamental change in the human condition, then it is a collection of fairy tales.

Are you a “none?” Please don’t give up on religion. There are churches dedicated to improving this world, committed to the fight for social justice, equality, and human rights. And there are churches that don’t pretend to have all of the answers, and welcome your questions.

Saturday, June 22, 2013

Truth and Meaning: Hope and Love

Truth and Meaning: Hope and love

Hope and love. These are wonderful emotions that people of all faiths can share and grow. We can worship together and feel the transcendent power of our spirits united in common concern. We can work together to help the needy and build beloved community. We can read, sing and pray inspiring words that foster compassion for humanity and our world.

Hope and love are beautiful flowers — fragrant … and fragile. Hope and love require careful nurturing and protection from the elements and from forces that would consume them until they withered and died.

Hope and love require courage. They require the courage to resist the storms of hate and oppression. They require the courage to stand up to the winds of ignorance and bigotry. Hope and love survive only when people have the courage to protect them from violence and the evil influences that poison the soul.

Hope and love are the crops cultivated by farmers of the spirit. And in order to grow a crop of hope and love, we farmers of the spirit must be courageous. We must persevere when problems abound like locusts, or seem as insurmountable as a hail storm. We must labor to fend off invasive plants, the icy frost, or the flames of drought.

But, most of all, the farmers of the spirit must guard hope and love from the attacks of the ignorant, and from the slander of the hateful. We must nurture the fields of hope and love from the violent bullying of those driven by fear and prejudice, of privilege and entitlement, of irrationality and selfishness.

This is not easy work. It can be exhausting, even scary, and always challenging. But the harvest … the harvest is magnificent! The bounty of hope and love will spill over the tables, feeding all who hunger, all who yearn for its sustenance. Farmers of the spirit, join with me! Let us till the fertile soil and protect our seedlings from the pestilence of hate, the storms of fear. Let us stand, hand in hand, until the sweetness of hope and love dispels all bitterness, and let us join in that communion table together.

Friday, June 21, 2013

Heroes

In my journey into ministry, many heroes have lighted my path and fortified me when I faltered or felt weak.  Some, like Gandhi and King and Jesus, I share with billions.  Others, like Reeb and Liuzzo, Servetus and Weigel, are perhaps known mostly within Unitarian Universalist circles.  For me, these icons of courage ARE ministry - they represent the commitment and impact I wish for my own life, either through my own direct action or through those I may influence.

This is why I blog.  I write, not because I consider myself uniquely qualified or particularly erudite, but because I can.  After years advising youth, I saw what hard work and a willingness to be vulnerable, to serve as a mentor or role model, could do for seekers, for those walking alongside me on the path toward truth and meaning.

That is why, when I was invited to become a regular, contributing blogger to the Midland Daily News, I jumped at the opportunitiy.  Midland is a great small town.  But, Midland is also a very conservative town - or at least it seems to be dominated by the voices of conservatism and privilege.  I saw this as a fantastic opportunity to spread a message of progressive values, of hope and love, of the vision of the beloved community.

Almost immediately, opposition to my message arose.  And that opposition has been dominated by the voice of one person.

This voice is the voice of hate.  It is the voice of intolerance.  It is the voice of violent intimidation.  It is the voice of the schoolyard bully.

We all remember the schoolyard bully.  Most of us felt powerless to stand up to their strength and their willingness to employ any means to mold our behavior to suit their needs.  Those who did resist were beaten or shamed into submission.

In the adult world, the bully has more powerful tactics.  And this bully uses them all.  He has dressed in the sheets of the Klan, showing this community his endorsement of their legacy of murder and destruction.  He taunts and labels opponents with every term of vile slander his mind can conceive - terms of racism, misogyny, hatred of gays and lesbians, and anyone who does not share his unique view of Christianity or American history.  He twists and perverts sacred texts, bending them to support his claims.  And he directly threatens violent action, all in attempt to silence my words.

Early on, I had to decide - do I engage with this bully or simply ignore him?  And while ignoring the bully is a viable tactic, I remembered my heroes.  I remembered the authority of my pulpit and my ministry passed down to me from thousands over the centuries who faced their own bullies.  And I decided that the powerless, the voiceless, the underprivileged needed me to be a good ally and to stand up to this bully.

And so, I have engaged this man and his alleged supporters.  I have endured his slurs and his hate.  I have read his threats and lies.  And each time, I have refuted his arguments, called him out on his threats, and challenged his assumptions, all with the power of love.  For I believe that love can indeed conquer all of the bullies in the world.

This week, so many of you have approached me at General Assembly, offering encouragement in this ongoing struggle.  Together, we are standing on the side of love against cowards who wear sheets and burn crosses, against the ignorant and hateful who carry signs and chant slogans, and against our societal paradigms that continue to oppress the poor, the undocumented immigrant, women, people of color, the young and the old, and those who challenge our social norms of gender identity and sexual orientation.  I owe all of you an enormous debt of gratitude.  Thank you.