Here, , reflects on the divine challenge of Jesus to love radically and how, even though we are in a season of waiting, we can be part of this holy transformation, the impossible possible, in the here and now.

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Advent is a transformational countdown to transformation itself. A paradoxical time, Advent is a time of expectation and anticipation for something that hasn鈥檛 happened yet and which can鈥檛 fully be imagined. In our corner of the world, Advent shows up on the landscape of our grey and (usually) rainy winter. Bundled up in our coats and sweaters, we wrap hands around our peppermint mochas and hunker down until the first light of spring when robins join us with their knowing 鈥渟ee-didn鈥檛-I-tell-you-it was-coming,鈥� tweet tweet tweets. And so we wait and trust that spring will come and we鈥檒l one day see the sun again.

Similarly, advent is a time of impending hopeful change and transformation鈥搒omething is coming but it鈥檚 not here yet. It鈥檚 a time when we turn our attention to the impossible possible鈥� the coming of what we can only imagine. Theologically we are waiting for the transformational presence of God in our time. We are waiting and counting the days for the breaking-in of a radical spirit of transcendent immanence.

In Christian tradition, God breaks into our time, disrupts time, displaces time, disorients time and all we can do is wait. And trust. Trust that that transformation will come, that divine love and peace is coming just like the spring blossoms. It鈥檚 a theology of radical rupture where the impossible becomes possible. This is a theology of hope.

Liturgically Advent marks the time of waiting til Jesus鈥� birth, but it鈥檚 so much more than that鈥�it鈥檚 a countdown for the message Jesus would bring into this broken world鈥搕hat of the kingdom of God where society would live in love, peace, and equality. Advent therefore is a time of waiting for the divine message, the promise, the hope for something righteous and holy.

Early 20th-century theologian Walter Rauschenbusch taught that the kingdom was not an apocalyptic vision of what was to come, but rather, a prophetic call for social transformation in the here and now. This radical message would become central to the visionary movement known as the social gospel. We live in a time where we desperately need to be reminded of this transformational vision for what could be, right here and now as we鈥檙e not just in the season when nights are long and days are grey, quite literally and figuratively our days are grey. Our political climate is dire, to say little of the state of the climate itself. There鈥檚 xenophobia, nationalism, gender inequality, economic instability, food insecurity鈥� these are but words pointing to deep hurts and pains inflicted on us and by us. We feel it in our bones when we see families separated at borders, when white supremacists spew hate, when gun violence and toxic systemic oppression abound鈥搕hese are dark times indeed.

Advent though is a time of waiting for the transformational in-breaking of radical, vibrant, spirit incarnate. A divine presence in fleshly form come to tell us that there is a different way to live and be. While we often wrap Jesus in platitudes about love, grace, generosity, and equality, Jesus also posed a divine challenge to systems and structures by flipping tables in the temple and challenging the narrative of empire calling truth to power with divine love and righteous anger. The divine challenge Jesus brought is to love so radically, so boldly, that you question the very structures that seek to rob people of divine love, acceptance, peace, and abundance. In fact, the very narrative of Jesus鈥� birth and death defies all reason, it flips the script on what the world tells us is possible!

Our theology of hope therefore is not one that should rest on hope alone without informed action, or without conscientious response to systemic and structural inequality. Rather, the summons offered to us through Jesus鈥� divine in-breaking, is one that challenges us to love one another so much that we create the impossible through structural and systemic transformation鈥搕hrough our interrogation of political and economic institutions (those which Rauschenbusch called 鈥渟uper-personal entities of evil鈥�).

Rauschenbusch argued that these institutions perpetuate social sin drawing us away from one another and binding us in individualistic thinking, that which moves us further away from collective thriving. We may feel that the kingdom is too far from our own reality, too ephemeral to capture. And yet the work of persistent hopeful imaginative radical love is the very task we are given. Theological descendent of Rauschenbusch, Dr. Cornel West reminds us that, 鈥淲e鈥檝e forgotten that a rich life consists fundamentally of serving others, trying to leave the world a little better than you found it. We need the courage to question the powers that be, the courage to be impatient with evil and patient with people, the courage to fight for social justice. In many instances we will be stepping out on nothing, and just hoping to land on something. But that鈥檚 the struggle. To live is to wrestle with despair, yet never allow despair to have the last word.鈥�

This Advent, as in the past, we鈥檒l participate in liturgy commemorating the incarnational in- breaking of the divine. We鈥檒l buy Christmas trees and put up decorations, attend a Christmas pageant or Advent festival. But as we live in liminal time aware of the days that pass, might we imagine ourselves as part of the impossible possible? St. Teresa of Avila wrote that 鈥淐hrist has no body now but yours/No hands, no feet on earth but yours/Yours are the eyes with which he looks/compassion on this world/Christ has no body now on earth but yours.鈥� Might we remember to live into a love so potent, so present that it shatters the landscape of what is and reveals through our very hands and feet social justice and divine transformation of the here and now? Let us embrace this Advent, a divine challenge to be bold lovers who imagine and who question, who resist forces that seek to separate us from neighbor, and who believe that divine love binds us to one another and to the future that we create together.

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Here, Jennifer Fernandez, Assistant Instructor, argues that particular churches or denominations should not be equated with the whole of Christianity. Whatever your response when you are harmed by or disagree with an institution鈥攚hether you stay to grieve and work and effect change, or leave in search of a home elsewhere鈥攖he way of Jesus and the call to live as people of justice and relationality remain the same.

Let鈥檚 stop conflating church for Christianity.

There鈥檚 a Twitter post I read recently that reads, 鈥淚t is not helpful to tell LGBTQ United Methodists they need to find 鈥榓nother church.鈥� Home is home. The UMC belongs to them as much as it belongs to straight Methodists.鈥� My immediate thought was, 鈥溾�楬ome is home鈥�? What does that mean?鈥�

Sometimes 鈥渉ome,鈥� for some people, is a place where you are hurt, abused, told you don鈥檛 matter, and that your very existence is an abomination. If a child grows up in such a home, we immediately want to do something to change that child鈥檚 circumstances. We want to provide comfort, care, grace, and love. We demand justice. So why do we allow Christ鈥檚 鈥渉ome鈥� to do the same thing?

In Diana Butler Bass explains, 鈥淚n the decades before the Civil War, three of the nation鈥檚 largest Protestant denominations鈥擝aptists, Presbyterians, and Methodists鈥攕plit over slavery, biblical interpretation, and abolition. [鈥 As the churches divided over slavery then, so they are dividing over sexuality and gender now. Many of the biblical arguments and hermeneutic approaches once used to support slavery are now employed to reject the humanity, gifts, and dignity of women and LGBTQ persons. If you read 19th century sermons or tracts from Southern Presbyterians, for example, you only need to swap out a few words and you have a blog about how the Bible doesn鈥檛 allow women to preach or gay and lesbian couples to marry.鈥�

Too often we conflate all Christian churches and denominations for Christianity, when really they鈥檙e a bit of a Venn diagram. Sometimes they鈥檙e the same, sometimes they鈥檙e not. Our jobs as consumers of church is to know the difference. Christianity always demands that we call out injustice鈥攕ometimes church does this. Christianity always tells us to set a place at the table for everyone鈥攕ometimes church does this. Christianity urges us to live into right relationality that is reflective here and now of the kin-dom of God鈥攕ometimes church does this. When church and Christianity don鈥檛 line up, we the people get to say 鈥渄o better.鈥� Sometimes, demanding that church do better means staying and not leaving your ground, it means writing letters, it means protesting, it means finding new platforms and new coalitions, and sometimes it means leaving. It means saying, 鈥淚 will not let you hurt me in the name of God. I will not let you abuse me. I will not sacrifice my deep and true knowing of God in the name of a denomination that mistreats me.鈥�

Butler Bass reminds us that denominations are not the same as theology, and I agree. When we begin to idolize a structure like a denomination, when we begin to turn a blind eye to the suffering that those denominations are causing, we are sacrificing Christianity. That said, it鈥檚 painful work to acknowledge that 鈥渉ome鈥� isn鈥檛 safe. It鈥檚 painful work to acknowledge that we have been harmed in that 鈥渉ome.鈥� And it鈥檚 painful work to acknowledge that we have let others be harmed there and done nothing. Our denominational affiliations often comfort and give us a sense of belonging. They鈥檙e our Hogwarts house, where we feel seen and where we feel that we鈥檙e among others who experience and see the world the same way we do. Our denominations often give us a sense of tradition, a sense of rootedness. But sometimes, that鈥檚 not the case鈥攐r rather that鈥檚 not the case for everyone in that home. Home sometimes means a place where you have both sacred, beautiful memories and shattering, impossible realities. Home sometimes means a place where you once felt completely loved and accepted, and then when you came out/transitioned/wanted to get married/got divorced/wanted to be ordained, you were no longer loved and accepted. Home sometimes means a place where you have to hide who you are because if you don鈥檛 hide, you will be hurt, you will be told you are not God鈥檚 child. However, God鈥檚 home should never be this type of home. And if it means that people need to leave 鈥渉ome,鈥� sometimes that鈥檚 the very best thing they can do to save their lives and their faith.

鈥淲hen we begin to idolize a structure like a denomination, when we begin to turn a blind eye to the suffering that those denominations are causing, we are sacrificing Christianity.鈥�

That said, we need to acknowledge the black and white, dualistic thinking we鈥檙e enculturated into in this country and drag it out of the shadows鈥攍eaving a denomination or church that hurts is not the same as leaving Christianity, and knowing the difference requires a lot of slowing down on our part. It means doing the work necessary to know that Christianity is greater, deeper, and more expansive than any one denomination or church. It means learning to decipher as good consumers which places feed us and all those around us, and which say to some 鈥測ou can eat at this table,鈥� while it turns others who are hungry away. Knowing the difference is important to both our collective thriving and the thriving of Christianity itself.

In this time of deep pain where denominations fail to see the fullness of those in their midst, we should be reminded that home need not be the kind of place that hurts us. As Bishop Karen Olivedo, the first open lesbian bishop elected¹ to the UMC, states, 鈥淥nce you have seen and experienced how beautiful the Body of Christ is when all are included you can鈥檛 accept the rejection of some of the members of the Body.鈥�

We can find new places to call home, created family that sees the fullness of the divinity within us. We can hold the complexity of trauma and know that there are homes where we will be embraced, cared for, and celebrated. And we can be prophetic in our stance against systems which forget that faith opens one鈥檚 heart to the enormity of creation. However we choose to find home that feels safe, that feeds our faith, may we know that Christianity is more than church, and that we are Divinely loved.

¹Look her up. She鈥檚 got an interesting story to tell.

In the hope of fostering faithful dialogue that understands narrative, wrestles with intersections, resists reactivity, and fosters radical hospitality, we seek to feature work from a wide range of backgrounds and perspectives. Therefore the opinions expressed on the Intersections blog are those of the authors and do not purport to reflect an official statement regarding the views or opinions of 天美视频. You can read more on the Intersections landing page.

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As a PhD student it鈥檚 rare for me to pick up a book at a bookstore that鈥檚 鈥渇or fun.鈥� Don鈥檛 get me wrong, the work I鈥檓 doing for my PhD is a certain kind of fun, but it鈥檚 a fun that makes for a lot less leisurely reading. That said, on a recent trip to a bookstore my eye was drawn to the new nonfiction table and a fire engine red book jacket that read in blazing white letters, 鈥�.鈥� Uhm鈥es please.

Flipping through the book I was reminded of a comment I made recently in Dr. Kj Swanson鈥檚 鈥淕od, Gender, & Sexuality鈥� class when talking about some of the queer and feminist theologies we had assigned. I said something along the lines of 鈥淩eading this stuff should make you angry,鈥� and what followed was a cathartic expression from a few of the women in class about the tears they shed, the frustration they felt, and the resilience they found when doing the week鈥檚 reading. Another book released just this month, rounds out this year鈥檚 publications on the topic, with having opened the year. There definitely seemed to be a theme forming.

And so, as I look through my newsfeed filled with protests, marches, and hashtags and as I witness the litany of books and articles being written on the subject, I think it鈥檚 important to name that current expressions of women鈥檚 anger aren鈥檛 just something political or cultural, they鈥檙e theological. Women are making use of their prophetic voices to point to larger issues of dignity, worth, respect, and they are pointing to these issues with rage and frustration because for too long they have been told to be passive and deferential, and for too long they have been prisoners to a system they didn鈥檛 create and which never accounted for the fullness of their humanity.

There is an abundance of women throughout history that have done amazing prophetical work beyond those who have been historically pointed to, and I believe that we are witnessing some of that powerful prophetic work today. As we look at the Kavanaugh hearing protests, at the multitude of #Metoo and #TimesUp posts, and as we look at how women continue to march across the globe for reproductive justice, racial equality, and other human dignities, I contend that women are using their anger to strengthen their prophetic voices. They are demanding the reconstruction of human relations, and that鈥檚 powerful stuff. It鈥檚 also dangerous stuff if you鈥檙e in the crosshairs. In Rage Becomes Her author Soraya Chemaly explains, 鈥淲omen鈥檚 anger is usually disparaged in virtually all arenas, except those in which anger confirms gender-role stereotypes about women as nurturers and reproductive agents. This means we are allowed to be angry but not on our own behalves. If a woman is angry in her 鈥榩lace,鈥� as a mother or a teacher, for example, she is respected, and her anger is generally understood and acceptable. If however, she transgresses and is angry in what is thought of as a men鈥檚 arena鈥攕uch as traditional politics or the workplace鈥攕he is almost always penalized in some way.鈥�¹ We鈥檝e been witness to this penalization time and again, most recently in the mocking of a sexual assault victim and countless victims like her during a political rally.

鈥淲omen are using their anger to strengthen their prophetic voices. They are demanding the reconstruction of human relations.鈥�

In Sexism and God-Talk Rosemary Radford Ruether explains that 鈥渇eminism sees what male prophetic thought had not seen: that once the prophetic norm is asserted to be central to Biblical faith, then patriarchy can no longer be maintained as authoritative.鈥�² There is something at work in the current expressions of women鈥檚 anger, something to be in awe of because it points to something huge. Argentinian social scientist Ver贸nica Gago examines the power of protest, specifically those of women in light of the rampant femicides in Buenos Aires. Part of the Ni Una Menos (Not One More) movement, Gago explains that the global surge of women鈥檚 movements can be directly correlated to issues of economic and social justice. Further, current women鈥檚 movements offer a radical critique to the paternalism found in old ways of understanding how we are to care for one another. Women therefore, through their anger, are pointing beyond patriarchal distortions towards a vision of the world where everyone is heard, and seen, and where all can thrive.

As a culture we鈥檝e been conditioned to see anger as something destructive, poisonous, and ultimately harmful, and it certainly can be all those things. I and others writing about women鈥檚 anger aren鈥檛 ignorant to the ways that as an emotion, anger can scorch and burn. But for women, anger can be a matter of epistemic justice鈥攚e know what we feel, and we should get to feel it鈥攁nd what鈥檚 more, we should get to express it. Again, as Chemaly explains, 鈥淎nger has a bad rap, but is actually one of the most hopeful and forward thinking of all our emotions. It begets transformation, manifesting our passion and keeping us invested in the world. It is a rational and emotional response to trespass, violation, and moral disorder. It bridges the divide between what 鈥榠s鈥� and what 鈥榦ught鈥� to be, between a difficult past and an improved possibility.鈥�³ Let us move forward in these troubled times allowing for all the feelings鈥攖he hope, the despair, and the anger friends, for in doing so we make full use of our prophetic voices, allowing for the divine to break forth with searing brilliance.

¹Soraya L. Chemaly, Rage Becomes Her: the Power of Women’s Anger (New York: Atria Books, 2018), xvii.

²Rosemary Radford Ruether, Sexism and God-talk: Toward a Feminist Theology, 10th ed. (Boston: Beacon Press, 1993), 24.

³Chemaly, xx.

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