A time for thumb-sucking books… old & new!

Abracadabra… for I will create something from the word.

First, we have to choose which words!

Friday’s announcement that the Supreme Court had overturned Roe v Wade sent me running for words!

My first stop was a string of words which would require a whole lot of space and an infinite supply of @*%#’s to include here. Use your imagination!

My second stop, surprisingly, was a place called Printful where I’ve recently learned to make things for my shop, FierceArtWithHeart. I was an artist on a mission.

Specifically, a tank top mission.

Having gotten that accomplished, I was able to move on to other words.

My memory led me next to my dog-eared copy of The Dovekeepers by Alice Hoffman. A tale of the first century C.E. Roman siege on the mountain of Masada, the fortress of the Jews.

You, if you have not read it, are wondering why. If you have read it, you already know.

A people with no rights and no resources. With scant food and water. And what passed for healthcare provided by women called witches.

Including abortion care.

A herb called rue which brought about cramping. Vile. Flesh burning. Effective.

The people of Yahweh. One thousand nine hundred and fifty two years ago.

Fiction, technically. Perspective, assuredly.

And, still, my mind was searching.

The Dovekeepers was a New York Times bestseller, so I went to their page. Virtually.

The marvel of reviews online yielded this:

…Yet in between, instead of a gripping work of fiction that lives up to this praise, is a long novel full of middling descriptions, hackneyed characters and histrionic plot twists… Sarah Fay

Never mind for the moment that histrionic is not a word in my chosen lexicon, and the irony of the Times readers being apparently more openminded than the reviewer, I call vested interest! And power! On somebody’s part…

Beyond that, I can’t help but claim that, for me, The Dovekeepers was important for many reasons… not the least of which is my own deep, visceral grasp of the reality that abortion has always been with us and SCOTUS can’t change that.

From there, I was led deep inside to the place where truth lives. In this case, truth from The West Wing.

(And, yes, if you’ve been hanging around for more than about 10 minutes, you know where this is going. Feel free to sing along!)

Season 7. Jimmy Smits & Alan Alda – aka Matt Santos & Arnold Vinick – in a hotly contested presidential race.

Santos, a Democratic House Rep from Texas and a Roman Catholic, was being chastised by his church and excluded from Communion for his position on abortion. In response to a pointed question, he replied:

Abortion is a tragedy. It should be safe. It should be legal. It should be a whole lot rarer than it is.

To which I can only say, So be it!

What the United States Supreme Court did this week was not remotely about that.

It was about power over instead of power for.

It was about an ancient belief that women are for making more authoritarian, power-hungry men who want to tell the whole world what the rules are.

It was about intentionally mis-reading and mis-representing the message of Jesus.

And it’s still happening.

For me, I’m saying NO!

I’m saying that the way is truth and truth is love and equality and justice.

And I’m willing to risk redundancy again, for the sake of claiming the place where this very issue led me to put my faith where my mouth was, about 30 years ago.

A young woman in the church I served was wresting with an abortion decision. Her family asked me to speak with her. I did.

She chose to end her pregnancy.

An elder asked why I didn’t talk her out of that decision.

This is what I, the very new preacher, replied… face flushed, teeth chattering, and knees knocking:

If I’m going to stand in the pulpit on Sunday and proclaim, in the Assurance of Pardon, that nothing can separate us from the love of God which is ours in Christ Jesus I have to be able to say the same thing sitting in a living room with a young woman asking that question.

And, yes, there was some irony in that particular quote, but I know more now than I did then. And it works for me, still.

In this moment, my wrists hurt – a lot – from typing. And the big dogs are doing the hungry dance. So, let’s go with this…

I’ve read some more books lately.

I’m choosing the way of Love, as best I understand it. Of bodily sovereignty. Of choice. Of intentionally living Love instead of making power-grasping rules.

Let me know if you want some book titles! And may the Divine Creator pick us up and dust us off and set us on the path again. This may help…

I have 2 granddaughters growing up in this world.

ps… yes, the painting’s been around a lot lately. And yes, it’s my understanding of the Creative Divine.

pps… oh! The tank top… FierceArtWithHeart. Get yours and I’ll make a $5.00 contribution to Planned Parenthood, which will be doubled through June 30.

ppps… some of my ancestors are having hissy fits about my creating these words in this moment. Others are doing a lineage happy dance. Abracadabra! And, #BloomBoldly !