Reflections on Sheephood

Matthew 25 is the parable of the sheep and the goats. The sheep did for the least, the goats looked the other way. The sheep saw Jesus in the hungry, thirsty, wounded, worn out, and rejected. The goats did not. On my good days, I'm a sheep. But I think on most days, my goatyness gets the best of me. Sometimes there is not time or not enough resources to stop and see Jesus in the midst of the marginalized, right? hmmm...

(This is an excerpt from my final reflection paper on this exercise-tweaked a bit to make it more interesting for this format.) This blog was an excellent way for me to continue classroom dialogue on a public level and to remember specific classroom lessons on a personal level. At the risk of sounding obnoxiously dramatic, this project has changed me, and it never would have commenced had it not been for the project assignment. For several years I have been comfortable (not in a negative way) knowing that people who live in poverty need attention and service. The discomfort lied in my lack of foundational political facts that pave the way for contemporary promotions of national and global poverty, as well as the fact that my personality type rejects all forms of strong activism. In this way, I am unlikely to boycott certain shopping centers that demolished affordable housing in urban areas to attract the rich—this is not because I like to shop so much as it simply does not make sense to me why one person not shopping at Paseo Colorado in Pasadena is going to change anything. For all of that, the secondary readings for class and a new reading of Scripture itself repeatedly insisted to me that Jesus did just that.

Jesus made sure that he knew well temple politics, and then as a single individual he over turned the tables, loved the Samaritan woman at the well, ate with sinners, and condemned religious elites. This humbled me in my blogging pursuits, as well as it enabled me to more freely confess not having the key that will unlock the solution to an end of homelessness. My writing and research also demonstrated that those who are called to sacrifice diet coke in the name of the mistreated at the Coca-Cola plant in South America is an admirable task, not overly simplistic or necessarily the result of pietistic motives. On the other hand, my slight Diet Coke addiction is not something that, at least right now, causes me great conviction. There are other things, however, that ignite me to a passionate anger, a fundamental principle that if others disavow are most assuredly a direct denial of the way of Christ. Ummmm, like, pastors who lead churches without giving the people a vision. (So, it's a different form, but nonetheless, something I do not tolerate well.)

I care more deeply now about the farm bill, the food stamp program, the illegitimate activity that transpires in the US Department of Agriculture, in large part as a result of Sondra Wheeler and a better understanding of how just one person can make a difference. The director of Bread for the World is also teaching me this lesson. (In fact, I roll my eyes a little less frequently at people who are zealous and possibly even divisive in their efforts to educate the rest of us consumers through their refusals to partake in mainstream American past-times like shopping/gift-giving, viewing professional sports, etc. In fact, I'm admitting that I am swaying to this side more dramatically-sometimes.) There are countless individuals living out their conviction to simplicity and justice in creative, life-giving ways. I want to learn better the ways of how to do this, especially for my family.

This class and blogging experience has given me renewed permission to be a co-creator and designer with God, the ultimate Creator. Like I mentioned in my blogger profile, I continually ask questions about the legitimacy of celebrating beauty, art (architecture, expensive paintings hanging in museums, Broadway, even a good marketing campaign, or the leather that's shaped into a stunning pair of high heels), and design in the midst of such harrowing realities of life and death that we see throughout America and the world if we stop long enough to look. I tend to embrace this duality now without guilt while recognizing the lack of justice residing in the face of an HIV-infected, orphaned, African child who has no access to school, much less the chance to see the cathedral, Notre Dame in Paris. What is more, I see the danger existing not in the presence of such cathedrals, but how we view ourselves in relation to it. When we think we deserve the beauty and wonders of art we are amiss. Like the class discussion that continued throughout the quarter, our possessions, our wealth, our stability, our land, all the pieces of life we claim to be our own, are indeed, not our own. They belong to God. So too, the gifts made of God’s co-creators are not their own; so again, it is a matter of the heart--just like so many things are with Jesus. “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” If nothing else, this blogging exercise has taught me that so long as we are sharing our treasures (whatever they are to us) with those who are in need, our hearts, our loyalties, and our longings will be with those who are need. Today this seems to me a good and solid way to mimic our Redeemer and continue on the path of discipleship. I want to be a sheep. The sheep loved their creator and cared for those their creator cared for.