On Easter of 1958 when as a little girl I proudly brought a bouquet of flowers down the aisle to place in a chicken wire cross at St. Thaddeus Episcopal Church in Aiken, South Carolina I first experienced the love of Jesus Christ. Over the years, my faith has motivated work in nursing home and jail ministries, hospital chaplaincy and a campaign for state senate in which the social calling in Matthew 25 was my platform.
Since my father was in the military, we saw how wide the world is and, as we say, how large the body of Christ is. From that vantage point, I have recognized a dark underbelly of our faith that is peculiarly American. Our holy scripture has been twisted to provide the moral basis for the institution of slavery, and all manner of white supremacist organizations which claim Christianity as a foundation, including the Ku Klux Klan. Today, it is used to sustain persecution of the gay and transgender community and to attack new ways of considering gender attraction and identity.
It misapplies the concept of “nation”, meaningful in reference to the ancient people of Israel, to bludgeon our pluralistic country with chicken little cries of the end of the world, when the only entity religiously meaningful in the gospel of Jesus Christ is the kingdom of God and that has no geographic boundaries. Rather than confidence and generosity, there’s paranoia and shaming.
The corruption of our beautiful gospel is energized by political forces fearing Roe vs Wade on the ropes will not be sufficient to mobilize the single-issue voter. Early restrictions on church attendance during the pandemic is taken as evidence of a conspiracy to destroy the church. The approach of 2045, when the bureau of the census projects the United States will become minority White, is not celebrated, even though the non-white communities are overwhelmingly sisters and brothers in Christ.
As a seminarian in my congregation wisely said regarding the malaise in the country and our communities: “We can either ask who’s at fault or how can I help.” I for one am excited to be putting my efforts into making a Delmarva Pride Center a reality in Easton. For me, it’s just what the doctor, and the Gospel, ordered.
Holly Wright
Easton
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