In my years as a Christian, I've noticed that the line between what constitutes a "liberal" or a "conservative" is a rather complex one. I have not met a single person who exclusively fits the mold of either standard; while they lean one way or another, they have certain beliefs that "cross over" to the other direction, sometimes radically so. This is because thinking people choose their beliefs based on reasoned though, not based on how it fits into a stereotype.
When it comes to the issue of wages, I could well be described as a liberal, and I am unapologetically so, for a number of reasons that will shortly be made clear.
While I abhor the attempts to politicize Jesus Christ, to make him into some kind of holy politician, there is no doubt that he stood on the side of the working folk. He often spoke of the poor, and He often spoke of the wealthy in terms that suggested that the pursuit of wealth (although not necessarily the mere possession of it) was in direct conflict with the role of being His disciple. "No man can serve two masters" is fairly clear, as is the admonition to the wealthy young ruler to sell everything to follow Jesus. Add to this the Lukean Beatitudes, which specifically castigate the rich, as they have received their reward, and the call to social justice becomes rather clear. I'm holding off of a lengthier discussion, as I am working on a lengthier treatise that will delve more deeply into the scriptural side of things.
But as we look at the social and political climate, we see a culture heading towards a conflict. The rewards of nonproductivity are nearing the point where they begin to exceed the rewards of productivity for the poorer workers. In short, financially, you are almost better off living off of benefits and government programs than you are in working to improve your financial situation. Never mind the matter of principle; principle does not put food on the table.
If a company, or an individual, profits off of the labor of an individual, one should not need a Bible, a Torah, or a Qu'ran to tell them that it is only reasonable to compensate that individual for the wealth they produce. ANYTHING LESS than full, just compensation for services is slavery, and any pastor, any Christian, any individual that condones it is complicit in the unjust subjugation of the poor. Such complicity is not only unethical, it is the very basest sort of evil.
We can debate the specifics of a fair wage policy, and to debate that is fair, but one thing is certain: if full time employment is inadequate to meet the financial needs of a family in a given community, they are not being justly compensated, and the call to change that must be so loud and so pervasive that it cannot be ignored. If the church and the community would issue that call, if they would stand up and boycott the industries that refuse to pay a fair and just wage, then there would be no nee for government intervention. But when we're walking in the doors of the churcchhouse with iPhones built in factories equipped with nets to prevent employees from jumping to their deaths, when we're plying them with coffee picked in fields where the workers are exploited, then the government has a responsibility to step in and insist that certain standards are adhered to.
In the same way speeding must be regulated to prevent people from driving at speeds that endanger other driveways, business must be regulated to prevent corporations from maintaining wages and working conditions that oppress the worker. If the church doesn't want to see such regulation, the church must step in and take the lead in ensuring such government intervention is unnecessary.
The reason the church is so roundly castigated by its critics is because the church refuses to be the agent for social change. There are notable exceptions to this rule, but the churches that are actually being well attended are the churches who neglected that call a long time ago.
And so if you must label me a liberal based on my support for fair wage and workplace equality, then I am proud to accept that label, even as I personally know it is wholly inaccurate. It is far past time to call for fairness in the workforce and I personally am proud to take an active role in doing so.
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Friday, February 15, 2013
Lori (Kirtley) Wilson: Requiem
It was with great sadness that I heard from a friend that a teacher from childhood had passed, a lady that I knew as Lori Kirtley. Coming very close on the heels of the news of the suicide of a high school classmate, this gave me pause to think about the role that Lori had played in saving me from a similar tragic fate. I'd like to take a few moments to share what she meant to me.
There are a few people whose lives intersect with our own, whose footprints carve a path through the untamed and often frightening wilderness that lies ahead of us. They inspire us to greater heights, to journey to places where angels fear to tread, and to find our own inner strengths to battle the tumultuous storms that attack us frequently through life.
Lori Wilson was just such a person. I met her through a time in life when I didn't have much else, and she was one of a very small group of people that I allowed in to the anger and frustration that was a part of my adolescent existence. For four formative years, I called her my teacher, my mentor, and my friend, though I only had a vague understanding of what those latter two words meant.
In my junior year, I worked as an aide in the library, and my journey of self discovery was in its infancy. Mrs. Wilson and I would discuss dreams and their interpretation, the troubles of adolescence, and life in general. She was there without judgment, without the anger and frustration I met with more than a few of the adults in my life, and without condescension, to teach, to guide, to correct, and to encourage me, having the wisdom and tenacity to apply each when it was appropriate. She taught me to dream beyond the dusty wheatfields of my Northwest Oklahoma home, and to see a vision greater than my narrow 17 year old's existence. While others taught me how to read, she taught me to savor the words of the great writers like a rich food or a fine wine, and, in some small way, how to craft them. She never directed me, but she gently pointed the way as I headed out into the next chapter of my life.
But the reason she is and always will be near and dear to my heart is because in a dark time, she was a beacon of light. There were others, of course, but precious few that I trusted, and Lori was one of the few that understood enough to keep me from surrendering to the dark thoughts that often filled my mind during that very, sometimes impossibly difficult time. She gave me hope when I had none and she set my compass to aim for the stars.
When we think of greatness, we think of people who changed the world, people who moved mountains, and brought hope to the hopeless. Lori Wilson did all of those things in the life of at least one young teenager. My world as I know it would not have existed without her, and with her guidance the mountains of bitterness and the world of hopelessness and despair slowly dissolved to allow me to become the husband, the father, and the person I am today. Lori's was a life well lived, and a legacy we should all be honored to have. I hope her family remembers her not only fondly, but proudly for the lives she molded. Thank you, Lori Kirtley. You truly were (and are) the wind beneath my wings.
There are a few people whose lives intersect with our own, whose footprints carve a path through the untamed and often frightening wilderness that lies ahead of us. They inspire us to greater heights, to journey to places where angels fear to tread, and to find our own inner strengths to battle the tumultuous storms that attack us frequently through life.
Lori Wilson was just such a person. I met her through a time in life when I didn't have much else, and she was one of a very small group of people that I allowed in to the anger and frustration that was a part of my adolescent existence. For four formative years, I called her my teacher, my mentor, and my friend, though I only had a vague understanding of what those latter two words meant.
In my junior year, I worked as an aide in the library, and my journey of self discovery was in its infancy. Mrs. Wilson and I would discuss dreams and their interpretation, the troubles of adolescence, and life in general. She was there without judgment, without the anger and frustration I met with more than a few of the adults in my life, and without condescension, to teach, to guide, to correct, and to encourage me, having the wisdom and tenacity to apply each when it was appropriate. She taught me to dream beyond the dusty wheatfields of my Northwest Oklahoma home, and to see a vision greater than my narrow 17 year old's existence. While others taught me how to read, she taught me to savor the words of the great writers like a rich food or a fine wine, and, in some small way, how to craft them. She never directed me, but she gently pointed the way as I headed out into the next chapter of my life.
But the reason she is and always will be near and dear to my heart is because in a dark time, she was a beacon of light. There were others, of course, but precious few that I trusted, and Lori was one of the few that understood enough to keep me from surrendering to the dark thoughts that often filled my mind during that very, sometimes impossibly difficult time. She gave me hope when I had none and she set my compass to aim for the stars.
When we think of greatness, we think of people who changed the world, people who moved mountains, and brought hope to the hopeless. Lori Wilson did all of those things in the life of at least one young teenager. My world as I know it would not have existed without her, and with her guidance the mountains of bitterness and the world of hopelessness and despair slowly dissolved to allow me to become the husband, the father, and the person I am today. Lori's was a life well lived, and a legacy we should all be honored to have. I hope her family remembers her not only fondly, but proudly for the lives she molded. Thank you, Lori Kirtley. You truly were (and are) the wind beneath my wings.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
The Reason the Conservative Church Turns Me Off
This is one of those blogs I've debated writing because parts of it are intensely personal, and because I don't feel I should need to answer for why I have such contempt for the conservative church. But I have friends who are part of that church, and I feel it only fair to help them understand that my frustration is not targetted against individuals, but rather the institution; and that it is quite well founded.
I had gotten over and accepted the fact that I would not be a full member of the Baptist churches in the Texas Panhandle. Although I was baptized in a Baptist church, I wasn't baptized SOUTHERN Baptist, and they didn't feel it counted (sidenote: Emo Phillips has a TERRIFIC routine on this very topic that's worth checking out!). In addition, they would not baptize my daughter, despite her request to be baptized. Since they pretty much consider baptism into the faith essential, that tells you something right there.
We'd dealt with them in a nearby town and learned they could be truly horrible people, but nothing prepared me for what I, at this point at least, hope will be my last experience with a Baptist church. I had been working very hard to work my way up the food chain and build a better life for my family, and was working at pittance wages to manage the network at a school district. That January, I got extremely, unimaginably sick. It turns out it was "just" Type II diabetes, but there was a stretch during which I had very real reasons to fear lymphoma. I was going broke with the school gig, and fast.
So when I got a very nice job offer about 200 miles away, I was very excited. The plan was simple: I would move up, prepare to relocate, and drive home on the weekends, The kids would finish out the school year, and that would give us time to find a decent house.
But the Baptist church had other plans. No sooner did I pull out of the driveway than they called CPS with allegations that we were neglecting our kids. The CPS worker investigated, saw nothing wrong with the house, but was concerned that we didn't have a furnace. We were left with instructions to remedy this and asked to call CDSA.
The problem is, CDSA doesn't do furnaces, and even if they did, there's no way we could have it installed before winter was out. Basically, our choices were to either surrender the children temporarily or go ahead and move them up ahead of schedule. To top it off, if we stayed with the original plan, the drive back and forth for court appearances could well have jeopardized my new job. This choice was put upon us by a church that pretend to care for us.
The move was brutal. We had to take out signature loans at VERY high interest rates to make it, and the only rental available was a local motel at $500 a week. We spent 2 months there, and still could not find a suitable rental; settling for temporary housing in a small 2 bedroom house (try THAT with 7 kids!)
| Our local church was a blessing, and helped us out on a couple of occasions, although it was unsolicited on our part. But for that first six months, our housing expenses were nearly $10,000. All because the Baptist church we had left forced our hand.
I have nothing against conservative Christians; in fact, I love them and agree with them on a good number of issues. But I've personally experienced enough hate from their ranks to last a lifetime. And if I have to choose between that and someone who is loving, even if I disagree with some of their theology, I'll choose the loving one any day of the week.
I had gotten over and accepted the fact that I would not be a full member of the Baptist churches in the Texas Panhandle. Although I was baptized in a Baptist church, I wasn't baptized SOUTHERN Baptist, and they didn't feel it counted (sidenote: Emo Phillips has a TERRIFIC routine on this very topic that's worth checking out!). In addition, they would not baptize my daughter, despite her request to be baptized. Since they pretty much consider baptism into the faith essential, that tells you something right there.
We'd dealt with them in a nearby town and learned they could be truly horrible people, but nothing prepared me for what I, at this point at least, hope will be my last experience with a Baptist church. I had been working very hard to work my way up the food chain and build a better life for my family, and was working at pittance wages to manage the network at a school district. That January, I got extremely, unimaginably sick. It turns out it was "just" Type II diabetes, but there was a stretch during which I had very real reasons to fear lymphoma. I was going broke with the school gig, and fast.
So when I got a very nice job offer about 200 miles away, I was very excited. The plan was simple: I would move up, prepare to relocate, and drive home on the weekends, The kids would finish out the school year, and that would give us time to find a decent house.
But the Baptist church had other plans. No sooner did I pull out of the driveway than they called CPS with allegations that we were neglecting our kids. The CPS worker investigated, saw nothing wrong with the house, but was concerned that we didn't have a furnace. We were left with instructions to remedy this and asked to call CDSA.
The problem is, CDSA doesn't do furnaces, and even if they did, there's no way we could have it installed before winter was out. Basically, our choices were to either surrender the children temporarily or go ahead and move them up ahead of schedule. To top it off, if we stayed with the original plan, the drive back and forth for court appearances could well have jeopardized my new job. This choice was put upon us by a church that pretend to care for us.
The move was brutal. We had to take out signature loans at VERY high interest rates to make it, and the only rental available was a local motel at $500 a week. We spent 2 months there, and still could not find a suitable rental; settling for temporary housing in a small 2 bedroom house (try THAT with 7 kids!)
| Our local church was a blessing, and helped us out on a couple of occasions, although it was unsolicited on our part. But for that first six months, our housing expenses were nearly $10,000. All because the Baptist church we had left forced our hand.
I have nothing against conservative Christians; in fact, I love them and agree with them on a good number of issues. But I've personally experienced enough hate from their ranks to last a lifetime. And if I have to choose between that and someone who is loving, even if I disagree with some of their theology, I'll choose the loving one any day of the week.
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