Justice And The Gospel - A Spoken Word By Propaganda (by VergeNetwork)

simone weil said "absolutely unmixed attention is prayer." to pay absolute attention to the injustice in the world is to recognize the absence of God in the world. to pay attention to God's absence is to manifest his presence in the places where he is most needed, for the most vulnerable, for those who need him the most, for those he loves: the ones to whom he gives attention.

Can religion and science co-exist? religious people bash on scientists, yet scientists never claimed to create, be smarter, wiser or greater then god. They just ask questions and get answers based on observations. Scientists call it proof, religion calls it faith. One is based on logic and proof the other we are expected to be wise enough to believe in. Evolution and Adam & Eve, The big bang and the 7 days of creation. How do you justify them, or do you believe just one theory? why mix the two?

Hold up now, I’m getting some serious misconceptions from you here. Some religious people bash on scientists. And some scientists bash on religious people. Unfortunately, I fear that there will always be bad blood between those who view themselves as being driven by the pursuit of pure, rational knowledge, and those who view themselves as being privy to a transcendent, divine message. Many in each camp see the other as polar opposite, but they’re more similar than they know. If you ask me, and you did (mwahaha), science and religion don’t need to look for a way to peacefully coexist, they already cooperate quite beautifully, if only we would see it. Let’s face it, there are some gaps in the proof for the big bang and there’s even some scientific evidence for the truth of the bible. But neither theory can explain everything. They’re both a few pieces short of the full puzzle. You know why? Cause it’s the same puzzle. Evolution is obviously a perfectly respectful theory. Darwin’s finches is an observable phenomenon and I don’t deny the existence of evolution. I find it a tad hard to swallow though, when the simple phenomenon of evolution is stretched so much as to explain how we got from a collision of matter and antimatter and primordial soup to the complex ecosystems and organisms we have today. I accept that there are myriad things we don’t know and probably never will. I am a science enthusiast and a Christian. Are the two mutually exclusive? Of course not. Do I “mix the two”? Well…no. There’s nothing to mix. God, being supernatural, created all the natural world. Science is the explanation of the natural world. That’s not so hard. Some of my most spiritual moments were…1. Grade 12 Biology, DNA unit. 2. Kennedy Space Center, Orlando FL, 2012. The microscopic and the macroscopic get me so fired up cause I’m just squirming in my seat like a little kid, going “God, you are SO COOL!” The more I learn about this world, the more amazed and inspired I am by the God who (to me) obviously made it. His fingerprints are everywhere, and that’s what science is to me. Although, interestingly, I’m also completely in love with the arts, because that’s God’s fingerprints inside of us. Ta-da! The reconciliation of what seem to be conflicting schools of thought. Only the truly close-minded would think that religion and science are mutually exclusive. :) Peace and love! -KatherineP.S. Einstein said that the more he studied the universe, the more he believed in a higher power.  

Short Story: Beauty is a Beast

            You know that moment when you step off the schoolbus in the afternoon, or when you shut your bedroom door behind you, or lie in bed at night, and just breathe deeply, finally completely alone. You know the person you are in that moment? That’s the real you, with all your true hopes and dreams and values. Nobody can watch you or judge you, or tell you what to do or who to be. People should be that person more often.

        I see it a lot. People are always totally themselves around me. I’m your corner store cashier. I’m like a part of the wallpaper. Because honestly, what effect do I have on the rest of your life outside this miniscule window of time for your trip to buy chocolate or scotch tape? It’s amazing the things I can learn about people as a cashier just by simple observation. I’ve worked here at my tiny corner-store-attached-to-a-pharmacy on the corner of my street for two years, and we sell everything from a turnip to tweezers. In two years of working 7-11 every day of the summer and 7-11 every Saturday and Sunday during the school year, I’ve gotten to know most of the people who live in our neighborhood, through routine visits and fragments of conversation here and there.

 For example, elderly Mrs. McAllister lives all alone at the top of the hill with her four cats, whose photos she carries in her purse. Boots is the black one with white paws, Snowball is all white, Mittens is yellow with a black triangle on his forehead and Tommy is orange striped. She buys a 2L of milk and a Big Turk chocolate bar every single Saturday morning between 7:00 and 7:30 without fail.

 I expect Mr. Watkins visit around 9 every second Sunday morning. He always buys Werther’s hard caramel candies, Purity cream crackers, a bottle of ginger ale, a loaf of bread and bologna. He carries two tiny school photos in his wallet of his grandchildren, Jeffrey who is in grade five this year, and Alyssa, who is in grade two. They love the caramel candies.

 Finally, there’s a tall, dirty blonde boy around my age who seems to live on Nestea and Peppermint Lifesavers. He visits my store faithfully every day at around 10 during the summer to get his fix and still comes back every Saturday and Sunday morning during the school year. I know that he likes the Red Hot Chili Peppers, that he plays basketball and that he goes to the school on the other side of the city even though he’s not zoned for it. Name? Not a clue. I call him Lifesavers-Guy in my head.

 I’m writing all this down because I want to tell you the story of a boy and girl. Well mostly a girl, but the boy is in it a little bit. The girl’s name is Purple-Monster-Girl. Or at least, that’s what I call her.

 She appeared on the scene around the end of June, right after I had finished grade 11. That day I was teasing 13-year-old Joshua about his first date that night as I put his comic book and Sour Patch Kids into a bag. He was beet-red, right to the tips of his ears and was probably all too happy to escape when my attention was diverted. The little bell above the door tinkled and I looked up to see who it was. My first impression was that she looked really...for lack of a better word, Normal. I wish I could say she looked Mysterious, or she was gorgeous but she looked sad, but she just looked perfectly normal. She was about 5’7’’, with dark brown hair falling in loose waves to her shoulder blades, looking like she had let it dry on its own. I will say she has a really pretty face, with nice skin. She was wearing knee-length cut-off shorts, a black tshirt with a colourful graphic on the front that matched her turquoise converse. She wasn’t stick-thin but she wasn’t chubby by any means. She was just...normal. She had two earbuds stuck in her ears.

 She picked up a bag of Doritos, a purple Monster energy drink and a pack of Stride Spearmint gum. When she brought it to the counter I pointed at her ear and said

 “What are you listening to?”

 She cocked her head and looked at me for a second, as if sizing me up, then she said

 “Nothing. People are just less likely to try and make conversation with me if I have them in.”

 Something told me I should have been at least a little bit offended by that, but I wasn’t at all. I just felt like I had passed some secret character test. She left the store and I was left shaking my head.

 “Weird chick.” I thought, and that was the last I thought of it, until she became a recurring presence. She came back every now and then for her purple Monster and  Stride Spearmint, though the junk food varied, sometimes chocolate, sometimes candy, sometimes chips.

 Around mid-July when I was selling popsicles and soft serves to droves of sticky, smiling children, she started coming in at 7 in workout clothes. She stopped buying junk food then too. It was around this same time that Purple-Monster-Girl met Lifesavers-Guy. She happened to come later that day, and both of them approached my counter with their usual purchases at the exact same time. Sometimes, replaying the scene in my head, it strikes me that it’s just like a movie. He stepped back like a gentleman and gestured for her to go ahead of him. She just looked up at him, right in his eyes and almost literally glowed at him, like, her smile looked like he was a child who had just said his first word. While I rang in her purple Monster and Stride Spearmint and she gave me the exact change without me asking her, Lifesavers-Guy asked her the pivotal question:

 “What are you listening to?”

 I looked at her quizzically. Would she be as honest with him as she was with me? She wasn’t. After a glance at me so fast it was almost imperceptible, she took one earbud out, smiled and lied. This is a perfect example of how people are themselves around me. She had no trouble admitting that she wasn’t really listening to music to the corner store cashier, but to this stranger, this boy, who might judge her, she had to lie.

 “Red Hot Chili Peppers.”

 And what a lucky lie. Lifesavers-Guy’s face lit up and they chatted eagerly all through his order, in which I had to tell him his total twice because he wasn’t paying attention the first time, and out the door. I could see them standing on the sidewalk outside the store. She laughed a lot and he smiled shyly, then they switched their phones and gave them back. I just grinned.

 As the days scorched and summer wore on, I sold a cool drink to every customer who walked in the store. August was giving us a beating this year. I stood behind my counter and watched harried fathers buying a box of cereal early in the morning, little old ladies buying tea bags and muffins, and people of all ages rushing in to pick up a card for various occasions and asking to borrow my pen. And I watched Purple-Monster-Girl and Lifesavers –Guy. Not in a creepy way, I mean when they came in the store. Sometimes, if he was alone, he bought Stride Spearmint or a purple Monster with his traditional order, or she bought Nestea or Lifesavers to accompany her drink and gum. Purple-Monster-Girl’s early morning workouts seemed to be working for her too, because the soft curves of June has transformed to taut, toned lines for August. As summer died with blazing red and orange sunsets, I saw them come in together sometimes holding hands. If one or both of them were in the store when Red Hot Chili Peppers came on the radio, I saw them smile like they shared some kind of secret. It obviously wasn’t such a huge secret if I was in on it, but nobody thinks of that.

 I guess they just felt special, as only new couples can. They were like a modern day Romeo and Juliet. Actually, scratch that. Let’s say they were like a modern day Beauty and the Beast. Not that either one of them was ugly and the other one was beautiful, I just think that story is infinitely more romantic than Shakespeare’s tragedy because it’s about seeing people for who they really are and looking past outward appearances. Anyway.

 The days grew shorter, the soft serve machine went into storage, and Purple-Monster-Girl, Lifesavers-Guy and I all went back to our respective schools for our last year. My time spent behind my corner-store counter was cut from seven days to two. But I still got visits from my favourite couple on the weekends. It was around the time that Crayola crayons and loose leaf were in big clearance bins at the front of the store, and big boxes of mini chocolate bars were on display that I saw Purple-Monster-Girl’s hair straightened for the very first time ever. She wasn’t wearing her workout clothes this Sunday. She was wearing shorts that were, in my humble opinion, too short. If not for the weather, at least for propriety. And she wore the same tshirt I had first seen her in. It hung on her differently now. It slipped right past her flat, toned stomach and didn’t even catch on her hips.

 And there was trouble in paradise for our neighborhood lovers. Or at least, that’s how I interpreted it. One chilly morning early November, I was organising a magazine rack and shaking my head at celebrities exploits when the two of them approached the store, seemingly in a heated discussion, judging from their faces through the glass. They stopped talking as soon as they entered the store. The tinny radio music couldn’t quite handle the oppressive silence, and only made it awkward when Red Hot Chili Peppers came on. I pretended to be totally absorbed in perfecting the magazine display, until they had paid for their items and left, still in silence.

 Chocolate Santas, chocolate Snowmen and chocolate Reindeer were flying off the shelves and we had our first snowfall. I smiled at all my customers and wished them a Merry Christmas as they left the store. The same five annoying Christmas songs played over and over the store speakers for a month straight, and everybody was jolly. And I watched tiny changes in Purple-Monster-Girl. Dark eyeliner rimming her eyes. A lower neckline than I’d ever seen her wear. Her hair was more often straight and more seldom wavy. She was still beautiful, but she packaged it more. She looked like beauty was no longer natural, but something she put on like a mask when she got up every morning. The day after school let out for Christmas vacation, they came in together, looking happy again. He kept his arm around her waist, not possessively, just kinda chillin there, like he was supporting her, or protecting her. And I saw the way he set his jaw.

 New Year’s Day the corner store was open. It closed only Christmas Day and two other forced holidays under the labor law. Anyway, I sold a lot of Advil, Tylenol, Coffee and Gatorade that morning. I didn’t try to make conversation with those customers, I just kind of smiled gently at them. One such girl laid a box of Advil on the counter with a purple Monster energy drink and a pack of Stride Spearmint gum. She didn’t really resemble the one who came in five months ago and told me there was nothing coming through her earbuds. Her whip straight hair had been highlighted with caramel streaks. That looked great to me. What didn’t look great was the tank top that looked two sizes too small and the painted-on jeans which revealed stick arms and legs and a waist so tiny it looked like it would fit between my finger and thumb. I stared at her for a few seconds in wonderment. There were dark circles under her eyes and her cheekbones had become very defined. I passed her her plastic bag of three items and wondered who she had kissed at midnight.

 It evidently wasn’t her boyfriend. No more did they enter the store together or buy each other’s items. Red Hot Chili Peppers on the radio elicited a stony face from him and...nothing from her, no recognition whatsoever. A week after we went back to school I watched Lifesavers-Guy stalk resolutely past the Monster cooler and refuse to let his gaze wander to the gum display next to the counter. I didn’t make any eye-contact with him as I rang in his Nestea and Lifesavers.

 The following month saw weather as cold and blustery as the night the enchantress sought refuge in the Prince’s castle. Business was slow. I sold contact solution, Benadryl, Root Beer and Reese’s Pieces. At home, I did homework and I started watching Beauty and the Beast again, to relive my childhood. I only saw the beginning before I fell asleep though. I saw the Beast shut himself up in his tower, ashamed at his own appearance, despising himself and repulse any human companionship. I felt bad for him. After all, who said he was ugly? Only society’s socially constructed ideas of “beauty” made him think that. It only took the right person to see the real him, and to see how beautiful he actually was. But I digress.

 Lifesavers-Guy came to the store less, probably because Purple-Monster-Girl still visited faithfully to get her energy drink and gum. She never put food with it, but I did get a few surprises. One morning I was just listening to 10-year-old Jess tell me about the latest Nancy Drew mystery she had read, in between mouthfuls of Skittles. Purple-Monster-Girl slipped in somewhere around the falling action. After Jess left, Purple-Monster-Girl placed her traditional energy drink and gum on the counter and then plopped down beside it a box of condoms. I said nothing, just looked at her. She wouldn’t meet my gaze. I rang through her order in what was supposed to be disapproving silence but I don’t know if she got the vibe. That was Saturday. The next morning I sold her more Advil.

 Three weeks later it was uncommonly crowded in my tiny store. Purple-Monster-Girl was coming in as Lifesavers-Guy was going out. Manoeuvering around her, he placed his hand ever so lightly in the small of her back, an unconscious, tender touch, but drew it back suddenly as though stung. A moment later she turned around to get her Monster from the cooler and I could see why. Her thin, tight shirt revealed every vertebrae in her back in sharp relief, clearly visible through flesh and fabric. I looked at her with sad eyes. She wasn’t the normal girl she was in June. Seven months had transformed her into an entirely different person, one who was quite evidently underweight. One who...was buying a pregnancy test. Heaven help us. I glanced quickly at her face, but her gaze was focussed somewhere past my left ear. I could only hope that I didn’t see her back here in nine months buying baby formula. After THAT experience, I examined all the labels on our condom boxes, and concluded that she should have bought the ultra-strong ones. They were 98.2% effective, which is a whole 1.2% more effective than the normal kind, but my faith in them was shattered forever.

 The next Saturday, everbody was buying boxes of Barbie valentines and candy hearts and Hershey kisses. But not Purple-Monster-Girl. I caught myself staring at her stomach, looking for a bump. I knew it was too soon, but I did it unconsciously anyway. She just looked as shrunken as ever to me. However, to my immense relief, this shopping trip featured a box of tampons. I actually had to restrain myself from sighing in relief.

 The ides of March rolled around and a lot of green was on sale everywhere. I saw garlands of four leaf clover and plastic cut-outs of leprechauns and the young and middle-aged elementary school teachers who bought them for their classrooms. And quite suddenly, Purple-Monster-Girl disappeared. Saturday morning when the bell tinkled I didn’t even look up, until I heard a much heavier footfall than what I was used to, and beheld a strange man in a suit buying Pepsi and a muffin. I waited and waited and waited. The end of my four-hour shift came and still no sign of her. Nobody made any utterance of where she was. They didn’t need to.

 Near the end of March, I served a woman whom I had never seen before. It wouldn’t be weird to me because I do that all the time, except for a striking resemblance to a girl who used to come in here all the time, and the fact that she was buying a purple Monster energy drink and a pack of Stride Spearmint gum. And did I mention this corner store JUST HAPPENED to be just over the hill to the hospital? The woman’s hair was disheveled and she bore unmistakable signs of fatigue in the shadows under her eyes and the droop of her shoulders. She spoke in hushed tones to the woman standing next to her, whom I assumed was her sister of friend. Completely unintentionally, I caught snippets of their conversation. “ ...still refusing to eat...heartrate dangerously low...better in time for prom...” As I handed her her receipt, I smiled at her and wished her a good day as sincerely as I could.

 That night, I tried to finish watching Beauty and the Beast but I only got as far as the dance in the ballroom and Belle wearing her beautiful yellow dress. I reflected that yellow doesn’t look good on many people. In the meantime, I knew the rose in the tower of the castle was wilting. Time was running out. This Beauty felt more like the Beast and I didn’t know if she would get to dance with her prince. This story of a girl and boy is shaping up more like a Shakespearian tale than a Disney movie after all.

 A couple weeks later, I looked up to see a tall, dirty-blonde boy enter the corner store. He didn’t pick up Nestea and Lifesavers this time. He went straight to the Monster cooler and picked out a purple one, then a pack of Stride Spearmint gum, then on the counter next to them he placed a greeting card. There was a cartoon Teddy bear on the front with a bandaid on his head and big bold letters above it: “Get Well Soon!” I wanted to say something, but what would I say?

 “I’m sorry your ex-girlfriend who dumped you because she’s sick and whom you’re obviously still in love with is in the hospital”

 Yeah, no, that’s a little creepy.

 I thought for a second, then threw caution to the winds and just said

 “How is she?”

 He looked up as though mildly surprised that I was speaking to him, and took a minute to process my question.

 “She’s doing better than she was.”

 I nodded. “That’s good.”

 Then he left.

 I remember clearly Saturday, April 28th Lifesavers-Guy came in my store again. He didn’t buy a single thing, just marched straight the counter and said

 “Can I show you something?”

 I was completely taken aback and slightly apprehensive. In the past, such a question had precipitated photos of cats in various attitudes of idleness, of school portraits of grandchildren, but I didn’t know what to expect from this teenager.

 “Sure.”

 He reached into his pocket and pulled out a photo. It was of a couple under an arch decorated with swaths of white tulle and flowers. He wore dress pants, dress shirt, vest and tie and she wore a beautiful yellow dress, a perfect fairy tale dress. I recognized the dark hair with caramel highlights and the smile I had seen the day they met – the same glowing smile like a child had said their first word. She still looked skinny but I could see signs of returning curves, like back in June when I described her as “Very Normal.”

 “That was at her prom last Saturday.” He said.

 I looked up at him. “She’s beautiful.”

 He smiled. “I know.”

 That night I went home and finally finished watching Beauty and the Beast.  As Belle and her Prince kissed at the end and fireworks went off, I reflected on how thankful I am that there are people in this world who know true beauty when they see it.

 You know that moment – when you step off the schoolbus in the afternoon, or when you shut your bedroom door behind you, or lie in bed at night, and just breathe deeply, finally completely alone – you know the person you are in that moment? That’s the real you, with all your true hopes and dreams and values. Nobody can watch you or judge you, or tell you what to do or who to be. You should be that person more often. Who cares what anybody thinks? Because I can promise you there is somebody out there who will love the true you. 

Do not say to me "it's all about the fetus" with that bitterness in your tone!

Abortion is not about who we like more - the mother or the fetus! This is an issue of quality of life vs. sanctity of life. And as I've said before, no one can prove at what point between conception and birth that clump of cells becomes a human. But we all agree that once it pops out of the birth canal, it is a person, and THEN it's wrong to kill it. So here's my big issue. For me, sanctity of life ALWAYS trumps quality of life. I'm not going to justify killing an unborn person just for the comfort of someone who's ALREADY been born. IF (that's a big IF) one believes that a fetus is a person, then an abortion is a murder for the sake of sparing someone inconvenience. I know I know I know there are so many reasons why someone might get an abortion. What you're saying there is that in some circumstances the fetus is not a person. Unless you don't believe a fetus is ever a person, then whatever. But you have to take a stance. If you think abortion is only justified in some circumstances, then you have some gaps in your understanding of personhood. Because you're basically saying there that only when the mother decides she wants the baby does the baby indeed become human. I'm not asking you to agree with me. I am asking you to really think about why you believe what you believe. Don't say "it's all about he fetus" as if we were choosing the fetus over the mother because if you say that to me, I will respond "yes! In this instance, it is about the fetus for me because the fetus is the one who might die!" Think about what you say. Think about what you think. This is a brutally complicated topic and we all run the risk of oversimplifying it sometimes, which is exactly what the titular statement does.

I'm super Impressed by the way you handle these questions! Personally while I love church and have been going since I was very little, I'm not overly religious. But I just love the way you handle questions that are like borderline, and right on the line of offensive to your beliefs. I also really like how while you answer them, you aren't forcing your own beliefs like I've have watched others do. I have always had a huge amount of respect for you, but it has grown since discovering your blog!!

Ahhhh Emily you're gonna make me cry! Thank you so much for taking the time to stop by and write that; it means so much to me. I'm really really glad that you told me that because my hope is to present an image of Christianity that is not judgmental or intolerant but rather real and accepting and loving. Your words are very encouraging, and hold great weight because you're an incredible person. You're loving and accepting and you know what you believe, which I respect so much. And your blog is beautiful :) I love seeing it on my dash every day. Lots of love, -Katherine 

Are you aware of the process of courting before engagement? It's like hands-off dating until you're engaged and then only hugs and hand-holding until you're married. How do you feel about this, is it something you would do?

Hello! I am indeed aware of such a process! In fact, one of my best friends is Muslim and that’s basically what they do…it’s like hands-off dates with a chaperone. I know it sounds sooo tiresome, but the whole point is to find out whether you are interested in spending the rest of your life with this person. And honestly, it sounds to me like they’re perfected the art of dating.

I am very incredibly interested in what it would be like. I think I really would try it. I don’t think that it’s necessary to remain pure, and I’ve always looked rather askance at the concept of saving your first kiss for your wedding day (simply because I think it’s a tad extreme, and unnecessary). So I don’t exactly think that it’s the right way to do it, but I think it sounds very interesting. It might be a good idea :P

I find that the physical aspect of a relationship has the potential to cloud judgment. Provided I can determine whether or not I’m physically attracted to someone and be aware of it (which I can, I dunno bout you :P) - because physical chemistry still is and always will be a very important part of a relationship - I think that it’s a “smart” way to do dating. You spend your time productively finding out how your values and worldview line up, and discussing thoughts and ideas instead of just, like, macking. :P

Because as important as physical chemistry is, it’s not what holds a marriage together. Mutual respect, appreciation, admiration and commitment is what holds a marriage together. And it’s possible that the way most people do dating focuses too closely on the physical aspect, and doesn’t prepare them for the future. So I think the process of courting *could* potentially produce stronger marriages. 

So in theory, I’m all for it. In practice…….

Honestly, I don’t even know if I could do it :P Well, I guess I could. I probably wouldn’t like it though :P When I’m in a relationship, the mental energy I devote to the physical part is divided evenly between paranoia about PDA and “I can’t wait to kiss him again”. So I think in one way, it’d be best kind! In another, it would annoy me. Thankfully, my love language is not physical touch! It’s words of affirmation, so I think that as long as I got to talk and text, I’d survive. 

Haha that was probably a long of information about me you didn’t need to know. But hopefully, it helps you understand my perspective. :) 

Thanks for the question! Peace and love! -Katherine 

For God so loved the world that He sent His one and only Son to die for your mean neighbor and your crazy roommate and the picketing bigot and the racist blogger and your gay friend and all the politicians and our crazy parents and the pastor down the street and the uptight religious folk and the girl at work you can’t stand, because Jesus didn’t just die for the people you like, but for people like you and me.

Plot twist: as a christian, homophobia offends and appalls me far more than homosexuality ever could.

I am not Christian, but I'm doing a project on Margery Kempe for school. She was a deeply religious person, her love for Jesus was so strong she would cry even at the thought of Him, as it remind her directly of His death. She morned for His death as if it had happened that very day. The society in which she lived didn't necessarily condone this behaviour. As someone who is religious what are your thoughts and opinions on Margery Kempe and her behaviours? I value your opinion.

Aww! You value my opinion?! I’m so honoured! 

Okay so I have a lot of thoughts on the topic of Margery Kempe. 

The first is that her religious education may have been slightly deficient.

I read that she wanted to become a nun but she couldn’t because she was already married. And also that she wanted to devote herself to a life of servitude for Christ but that she became a businesswoman instead. These two things are not mutually exclusive. God places people in innumerable different locations, vocations and situations as a part of his “master plan” (if you will) and people are just as effective in ministry as a teacher, a nurse, a lawyer, a doctor, a janitor, a McDonald’s employee or a plumber…as they are as a pastor.

Furthermore, a marriage need not be celibate to enhance your spirituality. Paul is one example of someone in the bible who was celibate and he wasn’t even married. He was just single. [EDIT: single at the time when he was writing the part of the bible that we read. SIDENOTE: Whether or not he may have ever been married is over my head and I have to do some more research. I’ll get back to you.] Paul said himself that it is “better to marry than to burn with lust” (1 Corinthians 7:9). And apparently ms. Kempe was subject to sexual temptations. God never intended for us to never ever have sex. He just designed it with a users manual (see what I said about sex here).

And finally, the whole confessing of your sins thing. Part of the reason she had her first vision was the panic brought on by the belief that she was not absolved from her partially-confessed “secret sin” and the fear of eternal damnation. Just for the record, that’s not how it works at all. You don’t have to go through a priest; you can speak directly to Jesus. And as soon as you tell him what it is you feel bad about and apologize for it, it’s gone. Poof! Might as well have never happened, for all He’s concerned. So for all these reasons, I think that Margery’s starting point was a bit flawed. 

Second of all, if I met someone who behaved the way she did today, I would think they were a wingnut.

I’m 100% serious. She sounds like a straight-up lunatic. That being said, I am IN NO WAY saying that her visions were not real or that she was a liar. I know that Jesus loves her deeply and passionately, and that she is of infinite importance to Him. I just wonder at the way she reacted to them. I personally feel that she had some personal, very human, issues that acted as a filter through which she perceived her religion and that these issues affected her behaviours. 

For example, take the fact that she had “sexually charged visions of Jesus” (found on spark notes, haha). woah. gurlfran, if you’re having sexually charged visions of Jesus, I think something is very wrong. Jesus is (as of right now) a totally spiritual being, and I think that a real and pure encounter with someone who is a totally spiritual being, could not be so closely associated with such a very carnal and physical desire unless it was corrupted by something. 

Also, check out this quote from an interesting article I found on the topic: 

“During the medieval period women were subjected to either of two stereotypes: They were the subject of clerical misogyny that saw women as the incarnation of every evil or docile, virginal martyrs – both extreme presentations. However, in a time when women’s voices were generally very rarely heard, female mystics who experienced ‘signs from God’, (such as visions), were empowered to speak out and challenge the social perceptions of themselves.”  

Is it possible that the interactions between Margery’s gender and her religious experiences played a role in some subconscious motivation for her incredibly public displays of emotion? I’m just asking. 

Finally, in that same article mentioned above, it says that modern-day psychologists say that she exhibited many of the symptoms of schizophrenia: 

The inability to make or keep friends

A preoccupation with self

Anxiety

The obvious, delusions and visual and auditory hallucinations…”visions”, as it were.

Apparently, it is possible that her schizophrenia was triggered by “childbirth, bereavement and the exhaustive demands of a religious life.” Furthermore, “The form schizophrenia takes is directly linked to the cultural and social influences to the patient, and in the pre-scientific mass psyche of the Middle Ages, schizophrenia understandably manifested itself religiously.”

Okay, again, even though it may sound as thought I’m very skeptical (okay, I’m kind of skeptical) I am not negating the validity of her spiritual devotion. I’m not an expert, I’m just some chick in the 21st century with a laptop. I wasn’t inside her head, and I will never presume to fathom the ways of God. I just think that our religious beliefs and behaviours are filtered through our human experience, and I think that she had a lot of filters. 

The third thing I thought when reading about Margery Kempe was, “but…Jesus isn’t dead anymore.” 

It’s a terribly simplistic and childlike thing to think, but it’s true nonetheless. I understand that she mourned for the depth of his suffering, and the time, when He was on the cross. That’s cool. We all should, and do, take time to understand the inhumanity and cruelty of His murder. I honestly think that history was arranged in such a way that Jesus had to endure the cruelest form of death ever devised by man. 

HOWEVER. The really exciting thing…the thing on which our whole entire system of belief is founded…the thing that blows my mind…is that Jesus DID NOT STAY DEAD. I told my grade one-ers on Sunday morning: “Jesus beat Death!” And He is risen, and He is reigning, and His victory over death brought life for you and for me. And so weeping continuously reminds me of this skit. Jesus is no longer dead and we cannot treat Him as such. We should be celebrating His resurrection and His victory, and the freedom that brings to us! 

Last thought, I promise. Have you ever heard the expression, “too heavenly minded to be of any earthly good”? 

Now you have. That’s what I think about Margery. I mean if, as Christians, we truly believe in the love and mercy and gospel of Jesus Christ, then our primary goal should be to attract people to Him and to show them His love. 2 Corinthians 5:13 says “If it seems we are crazy, it is to bring glory to God. And if we are in our right minds, it is for your benefit.” I interpret that verse this way: 

Humans are primarily spiritual beings in physical shells. And our creator is a majestic, infinite, wonderful, awe-inspiring, spiritual being. And when we closely encounter Him, it messes us up, man. In a good way. Such experiences manifest themselves in the physical world (some say “in the natural”) in interesting ways, like strange languages, tears, laughter, trembling, and sometimes falling down. I think that when one experiences an encounter with God, the only natural response is an involuntary outpouring of emotion. I mean, it’s God. Our instinctive reaction to His presence is awe and worship. But I’ve only ever seen these things happen in a church service, which is a safe environment, where we’re not gonna scare anybody. You would generally not expect to see someone having a “God moment” in the middle of the street. 

And we have to be conscious of our “dual-citizenship”, if you will. Yes, we are spiritual, and we must live as such. But we are also physical, and we are put here, in this physical world, for a reason. We’ve got stuff to do. And if we’re walkin around cryin all the time, we’re not gonna get anything done. 

So like, you said that you’re not a Christian. And you know that I am. If we know each other in person, hopefully I have never behaved in a religiously fanatical manner in your presence. I try to keep that toned down ;) in all seriousness, I try to be as in the world (while not being of the world) as I can. If we’ve never met in person, I promise I’m not gonna dissolve into tears at the sight of any babies. I won’t hit you with bibles or throw holy water on you. I’ll try to be pretty normal :) 

IN CONCLUSION (”finally!”, you say): Margery Kempe was probably a devoted christian woman, who truly loved her lord, but who lacked the proper religious education, and who was somewhat troubled and misguided. 

Thank you for the question :)Peace and love! -Katherine 

Stop feeling ashamed of being human.

A lesson I am still learning.