Life raises a host of different questions every day:

• Why does violence take lives of so many people?

• Why are so many relationships dysfunctional?
• Why do people abuse children, women, or the elderly?
• Why is there so much corruption in the political structures?
• Why does life seem so easy for some and so unfair for others?

And the list could go on and on and on. And so the list keeps growing until we are
grasped by a crisis, what has also been called a "limit situation" (Karl Jaspers)
that sends us a wake-up call to the realities of life we have been ignoring for far
too long. These "limit situations" may be personal, existential we might say, or
societal. Over the last two weeks, following the violent and senseless death of
George Floyd, a series of protests against police brutality and systemic issues of
racism and injustice erupted. Very much a limit situation during which, despite the
thread of the global pandemic, people decided to get together and raise their
voices and speak out against a situation that has to change.

As a white European living in Latin America, I cannot speak directly to the issue
of racism that I have never faced. And if so, then only its opposite side the
privilege of being the "good one" or "better one" simply because of my skin color
and European descent. Living in one of the developing countries (to use the
politically correct term that tries to mask the fact that these nations rely on and
depend on developed countries that benefit from their cheap labor supply and in
many other ways keeping the former eternally developing) taught me it would be an
experience markedly different from a life lived in a quiet and peaceful European
neighborhood where indeed everyone seems to have the same opportunity to access
education, housing, health care, food, etc. Within a few weeks after arriving to El
Salvador I became very much aware that this is not an experience for more than half
of its population that lives in poverty. How many more will plunge into similarly
dire conditions post-COVID-19 remains to be seen. But the reality is there already
are many men and women living in a way that far from being transformed into the
image of the Son (Rom 8.29), are being transformed by the sinful structures of this
world instead (Rom 12.1-2). These, through mass media and peer pressure, exert ever
more powerful grip on our ways of thinking: machismo, marianismo, gang violence or
overt confidence in political leaders, can be named only as a sample of symptoms of
a society that, depending on where we are looking from, blinds us to the presence
of those who are disadvantaged in one way or another, whose image-bearing function
as God's representatives is not readily recognized by everyone (Gen 1.26-28).

It is for this very reason these underdogs played a special role for Jesus during
his ministry (Lk 4.18-19). He paid attention to children (Lk 18.15-16) something
quite unusual for his day and time. The same could be said about women who were in
his company following him from Galilee until his death (Mk 15.40-41). At the same
time, he constantly approaches the demon-possessed, some of whom could be
classified as mentally ill (Mk 1.39). The same could be said about Paul since
having the same Creator, he argues, confers the same dignity on all of us (Gn 1.27;
Rom 3.29-30) who are part of the beloved community but not only those. Each one of
us has her origin in God and is his offspring (Acts 17.28-31). But just as Jesus
was a particular Jewish man born in the Roman Empire (Gal 4.4), rather than generic
human being, so also our attention should focus on specific people, instead of
misleadingly simple abstractions concerning human nature. Therefore our primary
hashtag should not be #alllivesmatter but instead #black #latino #poor #womens
lives matter because they also carry God's image and it is only through these
particular images we can perceive the whole.

This shows us a Jesus, Paul and the early church walking side by side with those to
whom they serve, whether they are children, men or women, different ethnic groups,
demon-possessed, rich or poor. Living in the eschatological tension between the
already and not yet ought to encourage us to transform these old structures (1 Cor
7.31), giving space to the new creation (2 Cor 5.17). That's the entire point of
the Sermons on the Mount - the life is to be lived in a righteous way (Matt. 5.20)
we affirm. We spend a lot of time talking about being justified, righteous,
reconciled in the abstract. But what does it mean in the here and now in tangible
and practical ways (Matt. 25.35-36)? The 19th century critique of religion (Marx,
Nietzsche, Engels) remains valid in so far as we do not engage in changing the
structures of this world: "Philosophers have hitherto only interpreted the world in
various ways; the point is to change it." (Karl Marx, 1845 - Theses on Feuerbach)
What these thinkers are doing is challenging the separation between the material
and spiritual, popular in some strands of liberal theology of the 19th century that
has detached itself from the real life: "The pure soul is a pure lie" (Friedrich
Nietzsche, 1895 - The Antichrist). Human life is to be lived through our senses,
emotions and bodies, not in a constant denial of them.

Of course, both Jesus and Paul probably never imagined Christianity would go
through such a development, and would be dealing with these issues 2000 years
later. Or maybe they did. Jesus speaks about the last judgment as being based on
our disposition to help others (Matt. 25.35-36). Paul expects us to keep on doing
good under every circumstance (2 Th. 3.13). What if the seemingly never-ending
delay is to test our creativity (remember the parable of the talents in Matt 25.14-
30 where doing something with the money entrusted is the key to being welcomed
later into the Kingdom). The point of the parable is not to question God's
character or whether to invest our money at the stock market (I feel Jesus would
actually seriously question its very usefulness). The parable is about proving
ourselves useful in some way while waiting for the return of Jesus. And as shown by
Jesus and the early church, everybody is welcome to make a contribution to the
movement that has turned, at least initially, the world upside down (Acts 17.6).
Irrespective of age, gender, race, social status (Gal. 3.28), each and everyone was
given an opportunity to make things happen. Women were praying and speaking in the
assemblies (1 Cor 11.5), the value of children has been radically different from
the surrounding culture (by not exposing or aborting the babies), and slaves were
given the status of equal standing with the free citizens. Our postmodern world is
a strange place to live in. Highly seductive with its allure of unlimited choices
on so many issues, and yet leaving us helpless, powerless and tired at the same
time, feeling as if our world is escaping from our own hands. Our culture has come
to believe it is death that is the ultimate equalizer. This is true only in part
because Christ is the one who has overcome death (1 Cor 15.55-57). If this is true,
why not feel moved by the newness of life in Christ (Rom 6.4) to equalize, as much
as possible on this side of history, the conditions of those who happen to be less
fortunate by no fault of their own? Modern-day women also suffer in abusive
relationships, modern-day children also suffer from neglect or lack of
opportunities, modern-day slaves have to work long hours for a miserable salary so
that we might buy a cheap pair of sneakers, and we silently benefit from it by
refusing to construct a different and more just society.

Is God testing our faithfulness and activism while we are waiting for the Kingdom?
I do not have an answer to that. I do know, however, that there is much that has
gone wrong in the world (Rom 3.23). And as a result of both individuals and systems
of oppression that we are part of (capitalism being an obvious but rarely
questioned one, see Matt. 6.24 and Rev 18.9-20), there is much work to be done
through bringing the Good News into people's social, political, environmental,
personal, existential contexts. The Good News about Jesus and the Kingdom (Acts
8.12) is often presented as the answer to people's deepest questions concerning the
meaning of life and our purpose here on earth. This may be true for some. For me,
Good News means I can look at the world in a different way. In a way that Jesus
opened and that allows me to question the world and the answers, we have been
given. While humans long for certainty, happiness, and fulfillment, what if we are
to actually empty ourselves into the lives of others (Php. 2.3-4) and into the life
of God himself if our death arrives sooner than the Kingdom? God in this equation
is not a result of a simple mathematical operation that always gives the same
result. Instead, he becomes a perennial question in the midst of an unpredictable
history to which we must constantly seek new answers.

Are we, and are you, up for a challenge? Bearing one's cross (Matt 16.24) is not
about self-help or self-improvement. It means doing things that are uncommon,
unpopular, even revolutionary. Having this mindset, let us follow in Jesus'
footsteps that led him to the cross. But he was not crucified alone. His was not a
solitary death. He was crucified and identified with one example of those whose
image-bearing capacity could hardly be seen by others. So Jesus, the one who is
described as "the man" by Pilate (John 19.5) is put to death with two bandits on
his right and his left hand. If Jesus reveals the Father in any way (Heb 1.3; John
14.9) then it is through his service and good works done for others (John 10.32;
John 13.15). If it is his example we ought to follow, and I believe strongly that
we should, then that must be done, even if it is denigrated as "social gospel."
Where else is the gospel supposed to come into life if not in our embodied
experiences? If not, then what else is our faith if not the old gnostic version of
Christianity with its mostly negative outlook on human activities? And yes, you
might say there is always a danger we might forget or underestimate the seriousness
of the underlying spiritual issues - the nature of sin. But is not sin ultimately
the outworking of our own inclination toward evil (Gen. 6:5) that so often
manifests itself in racism, patriarchy, sexism, discrimination, ecological
destruction, etc.? Eliminating the supernatural devil once and assuming the weight
of our responsibility, we do not need salvation from his power anymore. To say we
need to be saved from an angry God is to seriously misread some foundational
statements of our faith (John 3.16; 1 John 4.16). We need to be saved from
ourselves, our violent and distorted impulses (Rom 7.21-23) that harm others.
Consequently, sin frequently grows into much larger systems that later come to
dominate us in a form we do not even realize. God, from Genesis to Revelation is
opposed to those systems that oppress or crucify others and to those who benefit
from this oppression (Gen 11.1-8; Rev 14.8; 18:2.13.24). Having a God like this,
how else to bring salvation to our contemporaries if not by speaking life and truth
about these disturbing realities? The Gospel must always address the present-day
"human predicament" (Paul Tillich) both individually and corporately. But the
Gospel is not at home among the powerful but among the lowly (Lk 1.52; Col 2.15).

There are so many questions with no simple answers. Often maybe with no answers at
all:

• Did the Psalmist have all the answers when asking: "How long, LORD?" (Ps 13.1-2).
He certainly maintains his trust in God who in the past acted favorably towards
him.

• Did Jesus have all the answers when screaming from the cross in pain and agony in
fear of death: "My God, My God, why have you abandoned me?" (Matt 27.46). The
rulers of this world took Jesus and killed him. He lived his life in order to
fundamentally change our view of violence, our view of God who is not using any
violence to achieve the redemption of his people and of this world.

This nonsensical death at the hands of ignorant Jews and Romans can be used as a
symbol to stop the cycle of violence. Not understanding it theologically as "God
acting in mysterious ways" but rather anthropologically as "humans acting in
violent ways." People still keep crucifying and being crucified in many ways. The
image by Maximino Cerezo Barredo illustrating this text shows clearly that in
parallel to the crucifixion of Jesus, there are many other murders happening daily.
Looking at Jesus nailed to the cross, naked, tortured, most likely sexually abused,
vulnerable to being inspected by others and seen as if a failed and false Messianic
claimant should make us pause for a second, and think about the frailty of our
lives and the almost unbearable seriousness with which we ought to live our lives
as follower of someone who died a violent death, refusing to continue any praxis
that promotes violence and division - believing, praying and acting as children of
an anti-violent God - bringing hope where there is despair, love where there is
hate, faith where there is fear, reconciliation where there is divide, humility
where there is arrogance, knowledge where there is ignorance.

#IfJesusIsLord #why #Icantbreathe #Icanteat #Icantdrink #Icantgeteducation

#Icantlive #Isin #Ihurt #Ifeeloutraged #stoptheviolence #bring #love #hope #faith
#reconciliation #humility

Mencionando aquellas épocas, he querido leer varios libros acerca del tema, por
ejemplo:

Viboras, Putas, Brujas - Roberto Suazo

https://ebiblioteca.org/?/ver/138160

Las Cuatro Mujeres De Dios (la puta, la bruja, la santa y la tonta) - Guy Bechtel
https://ebiblioteca.org/?/ver/135720

Pero el tiempo no alcanza.

Life is without reason or purpose. Life is not for anything; it is for nothing,
nothing but itself. It’s not for anything else because there is nothing else; it is
everything there is, so it is for nothing but itself, more of itself, more life.