Friday Fist Shaking

“As it relates to society in general, I think we are inviting God’s judgment on our nation when we shake our fist at him and say, ‘We know better than you as to what constitutes a marriage.“ (Dan T Cathy, the owner of Chicken Fillet re: same sex marriage.)

I am pretty sure that God wouldn’t flinch at a little fist shaking. I have done so many times. Since the days of the Adventures of Wild Bill Hickok seeing Guy Madison on the little black and white TV screen, I knew what I was. I was four years old. Even at an early age I knew it was something not generally accepted. Eventually my pudgy little fists would be raised in anger at why I was made this way. Eventually my adolescent fists pounded on my thighs when I did not miraculously transform into heterosexual, or even asexual. I was pretty pissed off until I came to the conclusion that I was neither an abomination nor an aberration. I became a lover and stopped fighting with myself.

Mr. Cathy needs to pay heed to the Gospels where The Christ says nothing about my kind, but gets rather aggressive when it comes to hypocrites and money changers. Evangelism is all about good news and the Good News is exactly what “Gospel” means and not the validation of laws of purification and dietary codes. Jesus brought the New Law which was a fulfillment of Mosaic law. If Mr. Cathy wants to follow Levitical Law, he has his work cut out for him.

In the meantime, if Mr Huckabee and his followers want to throw their money at him and clog up their arteries while they’re at it, be my guest.

I, on the other hand, will continue to shake my fist, not necessarily at God, for if there is a God, he/she is benevolent, even if he/she didn't make me Michael Phelps. I will shake my fist at the MTA, at the humidity, at my arthritis, at the money changers and the hypocrites. For me the greatest love of all is happening.