An Act of Resistance

I went to church today.
As an act of resistance.
Resistance against a perception of Christianity which looks more like a football huddle than an open door. Resistance against an understanding that following Jesus is about me feeling good and getting to heaven rather than a way of life which works to create a world where all have enough and all have a place. Resistance against an ethic which justifies treating others as “less than.”
I went to church today.
As an act of resistance.
To say the way of Jesus does not sound like the Rev. Jeffress or Jerry Falwell, Jr. or Pat Robertson, but sounds more like a child crying for her mother or a mother weeping for her child. 

I went to church today.
As an act of resistance.
And was met with the story about the Good Samaritan.
What a joke!  For those who heard it when Jesus first told that story there was no such thing as a “good Samaritan.” Said together a “good Samaritan” was the ultimate oxymoron. Yet, here they were and here we are. The stranger…the despised…the hated…turns out to be the one who shows us God’s way is one of compassion and kindness and mercy. With the Bible in one hand and the newspaper in the other, the contrast is hard to miss. 

I went to church today.
As an act of resistance.
And we left singing Siyahamba.
We are marching in the light of God.
A song from South Africa
Born out of a fierce hope and sung in the face of the crushing cruelty of apartheid.
Where are lives being crushed today?

I went to church today.
As a deliberate act of resistance.