Let's Get Wild...
I hope to get my Masters of Divinity (yes that is a legit degree) and pursue ordination. This to some people in my circles is more surprising, and/or shocking than living in a Brazilian favela. Religion freaks people out, I get it. The trauma is real. So what is an M Div.? Technically speaking it is the academic study of theology, that could be the study of Islamic, Christian, or Buddhist theology, not limited to Christianity. Getting a Masters of Divinity is the first step to become clergy- a Pastor, Priest, Spiritual Leader, Imam, etc. You can chose the ordination route and go for three years, the last year working in the field, or a two year tract to get a degree in your area of theology. I want to become pastor. But not the kind of pastor I grew up with, or even exists today. Just like Airbnb didn't exist 7 years ago, 3 years ago it transformed the entire way I live, and make money. So perhaps the type of pastor I want to be is not yet created.
The next assumption from people is that I am a conservative Christian.
In geology class at Lane Community College the young lady sitting next to me during our class on Gaia Theory asked if I was offended. Confused I asked why?
"Because you study religion." she said.
Oh. Gotcha. No I do not beleive in the literal translation of the Bible, I use gender neutral pronouns for God, and yes I still do love to study religion.
I grew up in the Congregational Church, or United Church of Christ (UCC). It is a progressive, open, and affirming church welcoming everyone. But I didn't stay. At 26 I left that church while getting sober because I realized OMG I could be ANYTHING! I attended temples, a mosque, went on a Buddhist mediation retreat, and eventually at a Jewish Temple I heard Ruth Broyde Sharone give a talk on interfaith, what a concept. I was hooked. It was there that I also met Siri Kaur Khalsa, the founder of the Interfaith Prayer Service International, a regular monthly interfaith service in Eugene, Oregon. I attended the next service, joined the board and soon found myself elected President. I am Christian, I am spiritual, rooted in recovery, a member of the local interfaith community, and always seeking.
All that being said, this is a sermon I gave at my local Congregational Church on July 16th, 2018. It explores the beheading of John the Baptist from the perspective of a recently single, and adventurous soul, living in Brazil, me. I'm including this in here not as an in your face Christian sermon, but rather the opposite. What solidified my desire to pursue a Masters of Divinity, and stay within my denomination of UCC, was a sermon given by the radiant, and powerful Tracy Blackmon at Ecumenical Advocacy Days in DC in 2015. She was unlike any of the white middle aged male pastors I was accustomed to, and in her sermon challenged the lack of female narratives in the Bible. Wow I thought. If she can answer the angry call in me about Christianity, if it is ok to be angry, than maybe this is the place for me.
So here goes. Enjoy this speech, and know that God is still speaking, constantly disclosing more to you and to me.
Let's Get Wild
This week’s text falls in between Jesus’s many miraculous stories of healing. Jesus is continuing to heal people even though last week he was faced with skepticism, he has just sent out his disciples, and next week -- spoiler alert-- he will feeds thousands. His name is catching wind and people are starting to talk about him, and that news spreads to King Herod, This is not King Herod who had ordered that all babies be killed when Jesus was born, this is his son Herod 2, or Antipas.
The passage today is from Mark, the first gospel and the shortest gospel. It reads quickly, like rapid fire of all of Jesus’ healings and miracles. But oddly enough today’s text, like most passages from Mark does not focus on Jesus, but on King Herod, and his wife, and daughter.
This week we get a text that has been the focus of countless paintings, sculptures, and stories. – the story of the beheading of John the Baptist.
Text: Mark 6:14 to 49
14 King Herod heard about this, for Jesus’ name had become well known. Some were saying,[a] “John the Baptist has been raised from the dead, and that is why miraculous powers are at work in him.”
15 Others said, “He is Elijah.”
And still others claimed, “He is a prophet, like one of the prophets of long ago.”
16 But when Herod heard this, he said, “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised from the dead!”
17 For Herod himself had given orders to have John arrested, and he had him bound and put in prison. He did this because of Herodias, his brother Philip’s wife, whom he had married. 18 For John had been saying to Herod, “It is not lawful for you to have your brother’s wife.” 19 So Herodias nursed a grudge against John and wanted to kill him. But she was not able to, 20 because Herod feared John and protected him, knowing him to be a righteous and holy man. When Herod heard John, he was greatly puzzled; yet he liked to listen to him.
21 Finally the opportune time came. On his birthday Herod gave a banquet for his high officials and military commanders and the leading men of Galilee. 22 When the daughter of[c] Herodias came in and danced, she pleased Herod and his dinner guests.
The king said to the girl, “Ask me for anything you want, and I’ll give it to you.” 23 And he promised her with an oath, “Whatever you ask I will give you, up to half my kingdom.”
24 She went out and said to her mother, “What shall I ask for?”
“The head of John the Baptist,” she answered.
25 At once the girl hurried in to the king with the request: “I want you to give me right now the head of John the Baptist on a platter.”
26 The king was greatly distressed, but because of his oaths and his dinner guests, he did not want to refuse her. 27 So he immediately sent an executioner with orders to bring John’s head. The man went, beheaded John in the prison, 28 and brought back his head on a platter. He presented it to the girl, and she gave it to her mother. 29 On hearing of this, John’s disciples came and took his body and laid it in a tomb.
When Pastor Jonathan asked me to do this sermon he said I could preach about anything. In that past year I have lived in Brazil and traveled to 9 countries, and had insane life experiences, that I could and will share some,
But since I have this call to pursue a Masters of Divinity and be ordained I thought this would be a good challenge to read from the text. So agreed to preach from the text, then I read the text, and challenge indeed.
In these 15 lines we have an extravagant tale of jealousy, revenge, murder, deceit, scandal, it is WILD. I wanted to call the sermon “Let’s get wild but thought that might be a little much, so we changed it to “Let’s get wild without losing our heads” to fit the crowd.
Turn to your neighbor and say “Lets Get Wild”
John embodied the wilderness, he was the voice from the wild in sheepskin, and living in the dessert, he proclaimed that Jesus the messiah was coming, and was the one to baptize Christ. He ushered in light and love into a wild world from the wilderness.
John also serves as this bridge between the Old Testament prophets and Jesus. There was 400-year lull between the two books then John, calling out from the wild that love was coming. John was hope and promise
When I first read this text from Mark, I read it then went online to do some research on who was Herodias and her daughter, who was, John, how did this happen. I was astounded at how many pieces of artwork are dedicated to this bible story. I lost count of how many famous paintings at 30. Thomas Jefferson even purchased a large oil depiction of Salome carrying John’s severed head at an auction in Paris in 1785. Why? We love a tragedy, and a scandal.
I think we also love stories that are somewhat authentic to our own experiences and feelings that sometimes get suppressed- resentment, revenge, anger, and fear. We understand these stories sometimes more than walking on water, because we have felt them. We can relate.
And any good scandal has sides right? Picking sides creates a sense of belonging to a team. We love an enemy that is definable so that we can pick sides and get on one camp or the other. Herodias is evil! Kind Herod is the worst, Go team Jesus, and just detest the other to get out all those suppressed feelings we might have of anger, revenge, jealousy or fear.
That is what we as humans do- we sort, and judge and bond over that because it is like a drug, a fast way to get connected to someone- over a common enemy. We crave connections to other humans and so we resort to this. But dehumanizing the other actually creates more loneliness.
Dehumanizing anyone takes us away of our connection to the truth that we are all God's children, no matter where you are on your journey…
In Brené Brown’s book “Braving the Wilderness” she examines our spiritual crises of disconnection and our need to belong.She provides statistics on just how very important it is to find authentic and deep connection with other humans, to avoid isolation or false connection t hat can exacerbate feelings of fear that can further isolate and divide us.
Did you know we could die of loneliness?
In a metta analyses study done by researchers on loneliness researchers found the following:
Living with Air pollution increases chance of early death by 3%
Obesity increases early death by 20%
Drinking by 30%
And Loneliness by 45%
We need connection.
Brené gives the examples of counterfeit connection. When we are trying to fill that sense of loneliness and belonging by bonding over hating the same person. I think we see this a lot now in our political spheres. This is dangerous territory. It ushers in this ideology of your either with us or against us, you must pick a side, you must define yourself as this way of thinking because you attend this church or that way because you drive that car, and vote that way.
And we think that is bringing us closer together and in fact has the power to rip us further apart; Because that sense of belonging is still rooted in fear which leads to more isolation which leads to more loneliness. And away from our authentic selves that are far more multi-faceted in our feelings towards other humans, political ideologies, or religion, than black and white, or red and blue lines. Common enemy intimacy kills, quite literally. Dehumanizing political, religious, or social figures kills.
So how do we find connection? Well we have to get wild. Wild with our love for ourselves and for others and our ideas however unaligned, or not on one side or the other side they might be, they have value…. That is the wilderness.
Now, back to this bible text, I began to sense inside of myself my take on this Bible verse was a lot different than what other scholars and articles were saying.
Just as equally surprised a how many renditions of John’s head there was in artwork, I was also equally surprised at in the articles and other sermons I found on this subject that suggested Salome was seducing her father. Salome was thought to do seductive sexual dance in scantily clad see-through clothing that was totally organized and scripted by her mother Herodias. Did you catch that?
Did it mention her dress? What she was wearing?
In fact a website I use a lot to get Bible texts and references describes Herodias the “evil mother” as this: “Among the female characters in God’s portrait gallery there are many wicked women as we are discovering, but surely Herodias stands out among them as one of the most vile and vicious.”
What I heard in this text was a daughter dancing at her dad’s party, and her dad being so proud to this young child he gleefully says, "I will give you anything.”
Furthermore I resonate with Herodias.
Along with traveling to wild places this year, I also got to experience a wild breakup. I wish I could say that it was smooth, and happy, and easy for both of us, but it wasn’t. It has been painful and messy, and angry. I have not wanted to chop off anyone’s head, but I have felt, anger and resentment and fear. And this is 2018, I am walking away and able to keep living my life, I could own property and get a different job, and and be super independent. But Herodias?
I cannot imagine what it would feel like to be a woman in that era in which I was property and my existence was measured by its connection to the patriarchal household.
I cannot imagine being unhappily married to my first husband, then marry a second husband who happens to be my uncle, yes Herod was her Uncle, only to have yet another man - John the Baptist tell me that my new husband was unlawful. Unlawful?
If Herodias marriage to Herod was unlawful and ended then who was she? If she weren’t known as King Herod's wife what would she do, for her? For her daughters? How would she provide, would she be killed, where would she live? Would her daughter suffer too?
That would have been terrifying.
Now spoiler alert, this is the teaser for next week, after the disciples hear of this news they go and tell Jesus, and his advice? Let’s go into the Wilderness.
Why the wilderness after such a dramatic and horrific act?
John came from the wild to usher in Jesus, and Jesus goes into the wilderness after being baptized by John to face the devil. There must be power there.
Why the wilderness?
When I accepted the internship in Brazil a year and half ago, I suppose I wanted to go out into the wilderness. I wanted to be pushed into unknown parts of myself, to better understand myself. I wanted to be stripped of all comforts, and be left with truths. Truths I had about God, and the values I cherished and see how those could stand up in the wilderness of the unknown.
Now the getting wild does not need to look like living in a Brazilian favela, or hiking the PCT, or backpacking, it sure can though. It can also look like silence, meditation and prayer. Getting vulnerable, feeling feelings fully, Sharing those true feelings with people we trust. Getting vulnerable in relationships to form deep connections with other humans. That is scary wild stuff
But in December of 2016 God had in mind for me the wilderness of the Brazilian favela, to work for Favela Experience, an organization that provides unique experiences for international travelers in the favelas of Rio de Janeiro while incubating, and accelerating favela based businesses.
As time drew closer to when I was supposed to leave in December of 2016 I started to get very nervous. People heard that I was going to live in Rio and felt compelled to share stories they had heard, tragedies of gun violence, shootings, and thieves.
Wild.
I was warned not to wear jewelry, to carry nothing on me, and to be prepared to be robbed. From YouTube videos to friend’s accounts, and even warnings on the U.S. embassy's website, everything pointed to danger.
I arrived in Rio on New Year's Eve at 8:45pm- madness. I decided to go with a cab because Uber wasn’t working on my phone. I nervously paid the airport kiosk, got my ticket, handed it to the driver, and prayed I was not being taken advantage of. I was delightfully surprised when the cab driver joked with me in Spanish and Portuguese and minimal but understandable English, and my worries subsided. “This is going to be ok” I thought.
As we drove through a sea of partygoers dressed in white and heading to the beach, I felt privileged to have the VIP perspective from inside the moving tour bus. The atmosphere changed as soon as we passed the Sheraton leaving Leblon. The buildings were more creatively built and everything was constructed upwards on the side of the steep hillside- this was the Favela! The crowd here was loud, young and dressed brightly- color, heels, glitter, nothing like what I expected when warned not to wear jewelry on the streets for fear it might get jacked.
As we began our ascent of the favela, a man rushed our cab and from his gestures I inferred we were not going any further. My greatest fear realized- being dropped off in the favela alone. I was a sitting duck for sure as everyone around me was preparing to party, and the tall white woman with her suitcase ready to be exploited. The cab driver apologized and guided me to a line where others waited for the omnibuses. Due to the holiday, they had closed the streets and were only allowing the local traffic.
As I stood in line, dripping with sweat from heat and nervousness I debated pulling out my phone for fear it my get taken. The vibrations kept coming from my pocket so I checked, and to my extreme joy, Adam, the director of the Favela Experience was checking to see where I was so he could give me a lift, on his motorcycle, up the hill. I looked at my fat suitcase and wondered how this would happen but at this point anything was possible
Minutes later I was on the back of a motorcycle, suitcase creatively in tow, being whisked up seemingly endless switchbacks to our destination- Favela Experience.
Favela Experience (FavEx) promotes tourism in the favelas through innovation and small business incubation. There are three partner companies under one umbrella B-Corp that all serve to accelerate local businesses while providing social immersion experiences for traveling digital nomads and wanderlusters. Favela Experience exists to breakdown stereotypes (like the ones plaguing my brain), of international guests and the residents of the community, by learning from one another through immersion. Guests at the space (Nova Era), live in the favela, interact with the community, and can attend tours, classes and workshops from local artisans- experiences you could never find on a website (there aren’t many websites of favela locations), or in a travel guide.
My experience was well underway. After a 10-minute pit stop at the space to drop my bags and grab some water and snacks I was back on the bike with Adam and Rodrigo, directors at FavEx. We wove through the winding crowded streets, music, dancing and festas all around us. Everyone was having a party. In a dark alley we parked the moto-bikes and began the hike to the top of Dois Irmãos (literally means two brothers and is the mountain in the middle of northern Rio dividing Leblon from the favelas) where we proceeded to watch Rio explode in fireworks below. The summit of Dois Irmãos was spotted with groups of people also wanting to see the show. Unlike the U.S., everyone talked to everyone, there were no isolated cliques. Even as an American with little Portuguese I was asked to join a group singing Lady Gaga songs and dancing.
By 2:30am dense clouds coated my skin with cool rain and I was ready for a bed. Daniel gave me a ride back on his moto before heading to a beach party. I wandered to the top of the FavEx hostel building and nestled into a hammock.
At 6 am I woke up to the sunrise over the ocean at my feet. An Argentine couple returning from the parties also came up to catch a glimpse of the stunning view and we shared stories of our New Year's adventures. I also met Max from Uruguay who took me to the local beach and showed me where to find amazing local graffiti. Again I found myself hesitant to trust the people around me by leaving my stuff on the beach as we swam, but Max assured me that this was extremely safe and everyone watches over everyone’s belongings because of the strong sense of community.
This has been the theme of my experience in Vidigal Favela. This first night in Rio set the bar for the rest of my experience, outrageous hospitality and love.Over the next three months I experienced a kind of connection and community I have never had in my life. That is why I returned again this year and will make a more permanent move in the Fall.
To give a perspective on density Eugene is 77 square miles with about 168 thousand people, Rochina favela is .8 square miles with 250,00 people. Unplanned density.
Living together with 16 other amazing humans aging from 1 to 80, sharing bathrooms, no AC so much laughter. When you live in that kind of density you cant hold a grudge for long, you depend on your neighbors and roommates for everything, water, electricity, sharing stove space, hauling the propane tanks up stairs, everything is a team effort, so instead of nursing a grudge, guess what you get to do?--grow in your interpersonal skills. Love one another as if your life depended on it. Love your neighbor as you love yourself quite literally.
Too often when I tell people that I work in a brazilin favela they respond with, “Bless you, thank you for helping them” ...them??
I am the one being saved here.
I was getting connected to other human beings on a plane that I had never felt before.
And because I had recently broken up with my partner I was learning that love is not something that needs to be kept and sheltered for an intimate partner, love was something that goes into preparing a meal and eating slowly, doing this dishes for mother I live with, cleaning up the bathroom YES GOD IS IN THE BATHROOM, taking time to help friends with their personal projects, sitting and listening and sharing and singing into the late night hours.
This type of living was love. This type of living is what Jesus was talking about. This is how Jesus was living. In love, about love, vibrating love. And that doesn’t mean that it is smooth sailing, its minimal, and hot, and hungry, but it is radically wild and full of surprises. The thing about the wilderness is that we don’t know what’s out there. Brazil was, and is my biggest teacher that my values and integrity are the most important possessions I have. They allow me to set boundaries with others so I feel safe enough o get close to others.
Healthy boundaries are necessary to make deep connections. We need to feel safe.
Now my experience living and working in Vidigal need to be framed also in the reality that as a white affluent person, I can travel between the two realities inside Rio without discrimination. I can at any point buy a plane ticket back to Eugene Oregon, I can afford an Uber if the bus line isn’t working, I can add minutes and data on my phone to communicate without Wi-Fi.
The mostly black residents of the Vidigal face a far more different reality that makes the joy and resilience that much more amazing. Racism in Brazil is rampant.
From about 1600 to 1850, over 4 million enslaved Africans were taken to Brazil; this is 10 times as many as were trafficked to North America and far more than the total number of Africans who were taken to all of the Caribbean and North America.
Brazil was the last country to abolish slavery, and there were no Jim Crow laws or civil rights movements after slavery.
Favela the word itself is a plant that grows in the hillsides and favelas were created when slavery ended in the late 1800s and there was no place in the city to live affordably so unplanned development happened on the hillsides where the favelas grew.
There was another bog boom in the 1950s when an influx of rural residents seeking employment found jobs in rio but could not afford the rent so thy lived in the favelas again mostly black residents.
Even though 50.1 percent of Brazilians according to the 2010 census identify as black, there has never been a black president, and out of the 51 seats on Rio de Janeiro’s City Council, not one had ever been filled by a black woman… Until Marielle.
Marielle Franco was the first black female favela raised, queer city councilor who won here race with record breaking citizen approval. She won on a platform of human rights issues that were close to home, rights of women, black women, favela residents, LGBTQ+ people. She had grown up in the Maré favela and on scholarship attended one of Rio most prestigious universities in which she was one of two black students. In college she gave birth to her first child and dedicated her life to human rights issues after her best friend was killed after a stray bullet pelted her. As a single mother she earned her Masters degree in Public Administration and went into advocacy. She created the Rio Human Rights council before getting elected onto the city council. She was radiant.
On international woman’s day on march 8th this past year she gave an impassioned speech in the rain, unbound, and determined, and filled with wild love. She was a prophet speaking from the wilderness ushering in hope and a bright future.
On March 14th she spoke at an event in Downtown Rio called “Young Black Women Moving Structures”. In her outspoken protest over police brutality against black favela residents her last quote that night was “how many more need to die for this war to stop”
That night Marielle got into a car with her driver and press agent. A car pulled up next to them and through tinted windows shot Marielle in the head four times.
To this day no one has been prosecuted with that crime.
Marielle’s assassination was physically felt where I lived. The weight of the swift way in which she was murdered, all that she stood for, and was proclaiming, shot, in the head four times. The women in the favela especially were floored. And great and long mourning occurred.
Hope was shot in the head.
The days after her death were both filled with connection and more violence. Gatherings, protests, memorials united people, while gun violence in the neighboring favela where I lived escalated. Shootouts increased as tensions between police and community members rose. A young black man was shot two days later leaving a dance rehearsal by police in Rochina. An icon in his community and church, he was mistaken for someone else by police and killed. An estimated 964 people were killed by police last year in shootouts in Rio, mostly black men.
So what do we do after the death of a prophet?
“Let’s go into the wilderness,” Jesus tells his disciples.
Lets feel profound sadness, together, lets get vulnerable together in our emotions and let them wash over our body. Lets cry.
This brings us together. Lets take time to slow down when faced with tragedy. Lets be gentle with ourselves in those moments.
Let us ask some one instead of how is your job,
how do you feel about this?
Lets go to the wilderness Jesus said after his death.
Lets envision the future together in what we can build together, not who we collectively can hate together.
Lets wildly connect with one another and wash away hatred with love.
Let us when listening to someone we might not agree with on political or religious lines, restrain from preparing a line of defenses but the moment when they stop moving their mouth instead of inserting our opinion we lean in and say- Really? Tell me more?
THAT IS HOLY. Cause the chances are they are inhabiting the same human body in the same human world you are and they are equally a child of God.
This helps us form deep connections that are not bounded by common enemies or limited to sides, but bound together in love, compassion and to something far greater than ourselves.
Let us go into the wilderness,
Lets get wild with our love.
