Wednesday, July 17, 2013

2013.07.17 Free Prisoners

A wise friend commented on my post (7/14/13) about the theology of evolutionary Continuous Creation: “It also calls for an evolving theology that encompasses all humanity regardless of race religion, sexual orientation, occupation, gender and sees all as wonderfully created and held in Godde's hand.”  Hail the prophetic call for human justice as profound as  earth justice!

Saving Earth means loving all living things that God loves in the way that Godde loves them:  EQUALLY.

In 1986 poet Etheridge Knight (1931-1991) wrote this poem entitled: "Rehabilitation and Treatment in the Prisons of America."  Published by Yale Divinity School, Reflections, Fall 2013)

The Convict strolled into the prison administration building to
get assistance and counseling for his personal problems. Inside the
main door were several other doors proclaiming: Doctor, Lawyer,
Teacher, Counselor, Therapist, etc. He chose the proper door, and
was confronted by two more doors: Custody and Treatment. He
chose Treatment, went in, and was confronted with two more
doors: First Offender and Previous Offender. Again he chose the
proper door and was confronted with two more doors: Adult and
Juvenile. He was an adult, so he walked through that door and
ran smack into two more doors: Democrat and Republican. He
was democrat, so he rushed through that door and ran smack into
two more doors: Black and White. He was Black, so he rushed—
ran— through that door—and fell nine stories to the street.

Then I came along behind. I was White so I rushed through that door
and ran smack into two more doors: Male and Female. I was a woman,
so I raced through the right door—and flew out into the open air. Before 
I looked down at the streets below I stuck out my chest and yanked the
rip cord hidden in my uplift bra. Like an umbrella my chute spread over
me.      I looked up and saw no doors.

                        (addition mine)

1 comment:

Lyn G. Brakeman said...

A friend reminded with a smile that I no longer wear a bra, at least unless I must for the sake of sweet modesty. I reminded her that I used to wear such contraptions that bind and boost. Once I tried to imitate another friend whose breasts actually pointed straight upward—because of an upift bra. I bought one and when I put it on I looked like a rocket. I neither burned it nor wore it,not wanting to be either too radical or a laughing stock.