Malala Yousafzai, Speech at United Nations, July, 2013
The extremists are afraid of books and pens. The power of education frightens them. They are afraid of women. The power of the voice of women frightens them. And that is why they killed 14 innocent medical students in the recent attack in Quetta. And that is why they killed many female teachers and polio workers in Khyber Pukhtoon Khwa and FATA. That is why they are blasting schools every day. Because they were and they are afraid of change, afraid of the equality that we will bring into our society.
I remember that there was a boy in our school who was asked by a journalist, “Why are the Taliban against education?” He answered very simply. By pointing to his book he said, “A Talib doesn’t know what is written inside this book.” They think that God is a tiny, little conservative being who would send girls to the hell just because of going to school.
George Saunders: Commencement Address, Syracuse University, 2013
Each of us is born with a series of built-in confusions that are probably somehow Darwinian. These are: (1) we’re central to the universe (that is, our personal story is the main and most interesting story, the only story, really); (2) we’re separate from the universe (there’s US and then, out there, all that other junk – dogs and swing-sets, and the State of Nebraska and low-hanging clouds and, you know, other people), and (3) we’re permanent (death is real, o.k., sure – for you, but not for me).
Now, we don’t really believe these things – intellectually we know better – but we believe them viscerally, and live by them, and they cause us to prioritize our own needs over the needs of others, even though what we really want, in our hearts, is to be less selfish, more aware of what’s actually happening in the present moment, more open, and more loving.
Jessica Mason Pieklo: “Fired for Being Hot? How the Iowa Supreme Court Replaced Employment Law With Purity Culture”
In many ways the entire decision is a reflection of just how pervasive purity culture is, and shows that Nelson’s claims were doomed from the start. Nowhere is Knight, the admitted aggressor in this case, held to any standard of accountability here—not by his wife, his pastor, or the law. Every institution reinforced that idea that it was Nelson to blame and that the solution to Knight’s “problem” was to fire her. And to get to that conclusion, each institution had to overlook the fact that Knight only employs women, including his wife, that it was Knight who sent Nelson sexually pointed texts that she ignored, and that it wasn’t until his wife discovered the indiscretion, and on her demand, that Knight acted to change that behavior, by firing Nelson. And the court takes great pains to applaud Knight for seeking out the help of his pastor and following the wishes of his wife and completely ignores that none of those actions represent traditional paths of resolving an employment dispute. Who needs human resources when you have your pastor at the ready?
Elizabeth Drescher: “Why I Fear the Post-Trayvon Martin Sermon”
It’s this last bit — the challenge to get up and act for justice—that I suspect will be missing from today’s lesson at my white, suburban church. Or, if there’s a hint of it, it won’t be followed by any immediate mechanism within the church to act in common to bring about, as the Episcopal Bishop of Central Florida, Greg Brewer, tweeted this morning, “a world where George Zimmerman offered Trayvon Martin a ride home to get him out of the rain that night.” Brewer adds, “Come Lord Jesus!” Well, okay. Christians say that. But it’s not enough. We cannot just hope for the kingdom to come, squeak out the closing hymn, and go have coffee. That’s just not helpful.
That’s why I’m finding it hard to get myself to church this morning. I’ve had two cups of coffee already. I’m good. I’ve got plenty more. What I don’t have enough of is justice for the too many people we are leaving on the side of the road in America — the poor, women, people of color, immigrants. What I don’t have enough of are people of privilege who are willing to challenge me and themselves to draw on their faith to do something about that — now. That’s what Jesus was about. That’s what the early Church was about. That’s what the Church has been from time to time, but by no means often enough, since then.
Jesse Curtis: “How Should Christians Respond?”
We serve a God who takes sides. The controversial nature of such a statement is itself evidence of the theological rot that has pervaded the evangelical community. Our God comes through the pages of scripture as a God who is unequivocally and always for the weak against the strong, the poor against the rich, the oppressed against their oppressors, the powerless against the powerful, the impoverished against the privileged.
Many White evangelicals can grudgingly accept this, but are loath to apply it. Because in the United States all of these dualities are racialized. In our history the oppressed and their oppressors have had a certain color. The overwhelming weight of the evidence and the cry of personal testimonies like those of Tripp Lee says that they still do. So when we believe our task is simply to be civil and see the good in both sides, we adopt a neutrality that God himself doesn’t abide.
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