The Sermon on the Mount in Our World, Part 3: Blessed Are the Meek

"Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth." -Matthew 5:5

The lamb symbolizes the meek. The water represents the living water. The fish represents Christianity.

The third beatitude is one of the most beloved of Jesus' sayings, and also one of the most dismissed. It is also one of the most difficult to think about how to live.

This arises from the problems with the word "meek." To be meek is not something that is not very highly looked upon in the world. One who is meek is one who submits, who shuns conflict. In the hyper-masculine world of 1st century Palestine, and the equally hyper-masculine world today, these are not qualities that folks strive for.

In Palestine, as throughout most of history, men were the center of society. They were the only ones allowed to one property, conduct business, attend the synagogue, or travel. The men who were most esteemed were the strong, the smart, the assertive. The ones capable of defending their family and their property, both through their dealings with others and through violence, if necessary. This tough manliness was the view of the ideal man.

So it would be natural that after blessing those who mourn, with a focus on widows and women, that Jesus now blesses again those who don't conform to the accepted view of manhood in the world.

The Greek word used in the original scripture, praus, was an active verb. It conveyed the idea of one who is actively meek in the world, one who actively goes out of their way to be humble and gentle and friendly, as opposed to rough, hard, suspicious of others or violent. In fact, a more accurate translation of praus in the light of today's vocabulary would be gentle.

So why did Jesus call blessing upon the meek?

All through his ministry, Jesus led an example that can only be described as actively meek. Later in his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus teaches that we should turn the other cheek when someone strikes us, instead of retaliating.

In Matthew 18:4, he teaches that he who possesses true greatness is the one who "becomes humble like this child."

In Matthew 11:29, he refers to himself as gentle and humble.

In Matthew 26:52, he admonishes Peter to put away his sword, saying "For all who take the sword will perish by the sword."

Jesus' ministry was one of continual meekness. It was a ministry where he taught us that the way to change the world, to bring the Kingdom of God on Earth, was not through "manly" virtues like violence and force and hardness, but through love and kindness and serving others. It was a focus on being a friend to those in need, of being gentle to others and humble in our actions and thoughts.

I love this verse for this series because it has a direct parallel to today's world. We still revere the "ideal man" image. We tell our sons they need to be tough and hard, and not to trust anybody.

This bleeds over into leaders. We are told we should vote for the "tough" candidate, the one who will put criminals behind bars forever, who will play hardball with other world leaders, who won't coddle the weak in society. We like the loud and boisterous and confident-to-the-point-of-arrogant candidate.

But is this the kind of leader Jesus would have of choose? Is this the ideal He would want us to live?

Clearly not! We are instructed to be meek, to be gentle, to be humble. We are shown this example, and are supposed to follow it in all aspects of life. We should demand that our leaders show gentleness towards the needy, humility in their words and actions towards others, and yes, meekness in their attitude. We should demand that our leaders lead with these attributes, instead of raw force and power. We should demand they practice gentleness, and present our nation as a nation that is gentle and humble, instead of throwing our weight around and imposing our will on people who don't want it.

As the church, we are called upon first and foremost to live this life. We are to be the examples. The church should be humble. It should be gentle and welcoming. It should have open arms and an open attitude towards others. As the saying goes, we are to be the change we want to see in our world.

Because Jesus tells us that it is the meek who will inherit the world. It is the humble who will rule in His Kingdom. Being manly and tough and harsh may get us somewhere in this world, but we are called to embody the new world. It is not those virtues that will win in the end. If we want to see the Kingdom of God here on Earth, we need to be the leaders Jesus tells us will have that Kingdom.

Blessed are the meek, the gentle, the humble, says Jesus. Be like the little children. Put away your swords.

Is that us?

Read Part 1: Blessed are the poor in spirit. 
Read Part 2: Blessed are those who mourn.

The Sermon on the Mount in Our World, Part 2: Blessed Are Those Who Mourn

"Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted." -Matthew 5:4

The eagle flying into the sun symbolizes the Resurrection and the Life. The flames reprisent the Holy Spirit flowing down from the resurrection to comfort the kneeling figure in mourning. The hands with the shovel represent burial. The tearful eye also symbolizes mourning.

In our first look at the Sermon on the Mount on Wednesday, I talked about "Blessed are the poor in spirit," and tied it to those who are suffering from depression, addiction, and mental illness. Today's passage logically follows in Jesus' blessings.

In first-century Palestine, Jesus' listeners would have known who specifically he spoke about when he said "those who mourn." Those who mourned the most publicly and with the greatest feeling were widows. Because, to be a widow in Jewish culture was truly a terrible fate. A woman's fate in the Jewish culture was inextricably tied to her husband.She could own no land or property, she could not engage in business, she was not allowed to travel on her own. She was her father's property until marriage, and her husband's thereafter.

So for a woman to lose her husband was a veritable ostracizing event. The Old Testament laws tried to account for their situation by commanding the brothers of dead men to marry the widows. But if these men were married, or a man had no brothers, often times a woman was out of luck. The loss of her husband meant she no longer had a place in the world.

This is why you hear Jesus talk so much about praying and caring for widows. They were outcasts, forgotten and abandoned. So when Jesus says, "Blessed are those who mourn," he is calling blessing down upon women who have no hope. Women who feel no comfort, who have been forgotten by society and felt behind in the world.

So lets fast forward to today's world.

And shift gears.

I want to focus on two groups of people who probably feel they have almost nothing in common, but are more related than they think.

Abortion is the hottest of hot button issues in our current political climate. Since Roe v. Wade in 1972, it has become the major dividing line between our two political parties. It stirs passions on both sides of the aisle like nothing else, and rightfully so. It is an issue wrapped in our human identity and our morality.

As I see it, there are really three groups involved in the abortion debate: those who want to make it illegal, those who want to see it's legality preserved, and those who have ever had abortion (who fall into both other categories pretty evenly.)

And I think all groups involved are greatly misunderstood.

Anti-abortion activists view pro-choice activists as heartless relativists who have no regard for unborn children, and are in fact knowingly complicit in an act tantamount to murder.

Pro-choice activists view anti-abortion activists are misogynistic neanderthals driven by a dogmatic religious creed that has no regard for women's rights or bodily autonomy.

And those who have had an abortion are often pushed aside, forgotten after their ordeal, demonized by one group, and held up as a political victory by the other.

But they are the ones who mourn.

Those arguing this issue forget the tragic and unimaginably difficult decision making process these women go through. Often alone, and frightened, and ashamed, they don't see a better option for their lives. Many are poor. Many are single. Many have families who would condemn them, or even ostracize them, for being pregnant.

They may have felt like they had no choice with the man they were with. They may have been the victim of a rape, either from a stranger or a friend or even a spouse. Maybe their birth control failed. Above all, this isn't their fault. Our society has a disturbing tendency to make them feel that way. But it's not. As the saying goes, it takes two.

They probably realize they are in no financial place to raise a child. They are already in a non-optimal situation, and can't afford the doctor's appointments, the clothes and food and car seats and everything else it takes to raise a child. They don't want their child to live a life of poverty.

And so they feel as if they have no other choice. And then they feel dirty. They feel like they are the lowest of the low for even thinking of abortion. But they don't know where else to turn.

So they find a local clinic. But, in today's world, now they often have to go through state-mandated counseling. And a state-mandated ultrasound. And they may have the state mandate that they have to hear a verbal description of their baby. And then there may be a state-mandated waiting period.

As if this wasn't already hard enough.

And there may be protesters outside the clinic who yell things like "baby killer!" at them. And hold signs with pictures of aborted fetuses. Or maybe a pro-choice group wants them to speak about their exercising of their rights.

These are the one's who mourn. No one uses abortion as birth control, contrary to some rhetoric. This is a decision brought about by a lack of hope, by a feeling that they are alone and have no other choice. It's not one approached with anything other fear and sadness and mourning. And those emotions continue after. There is no sense of closure, no lifting of a weight.

Our leaders will continue to debate abortion as a campaign issue. They will do little to change the status quo, because it makes such an effective political cudgel to motivate the faithful.

Meanwhile, there will be thousands of women who mourn.

As followers of Christ, we need to embrace these women. We need put aside any judgment, any urge we may have to politicize their ordeal. We need to comfort them, welcome them, help them heal. We need to present an image to the world that helps women understand they have choices, that they aren't dirty, that they aren't at fault. We need to understand that abortion is a complicated issue, one with a lot of gray area. We need to realize that women consider it for legitimate reasons, go through with it for legitimate reasons. We need to realize that they need us, both before and after abortion.

Because these are the ones who mourn.

Read Part 1: Blessed are the poor in spirit.

The Sermon on the Mount in Our World, Part 1: Blessed are the Poor

This is the first of a semi-daily blog series about the Sermon on the Mount. I want to go through the Sermon from Matthew 5 teaching-by-teaching and talk about each teaching in the context of today's world. This being a blog about Christianity and politics, these modern-day applications will of course focus on public policy and governing. This will come from Matthew 5:3-7:27, and the translation is the NRSV, although I will reference others as well (noted in parentheses throughout.)

The stained glass series presented throughout the Beatitudes comes from Saint Vincent de Paul Catholic Church in Seward, Nebraska. The story behind these beautiful pieces of art can be found here. The captions under each come directly from the St. Vincent de Paul's website.

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven." -Matthew 5:3

The Crown and Scepter symbolize the Kingdom of Heaven; the dove the Holy Spirit; the hand reaching from the flower symbolizes humility.

Jesus opens his Sermon with the Beatitudes, a set of blessings commonly found in Hebrew writings. Jesus, however, shakes things up from the start by pronouncing blessings on a very unlikely group of people. His first: the poor in spirit, or the hopeless (CEV).

In first century Palestine, this encompassed a very large part of the population. Most people in ancient Palestine lived in abject poverty. They lived hand to mouth, and had to constantly worry about the whims of the Roman proconsul or legionnaires. The tension, stress, and want they lived with engulfed them in a poverty of spirit, a lack of hope. Nothing had ever been good for them. Why would anyone ever think it would?

So Jesus making them the very first line of his great Sermon is huge. Immediately, he is reaching out to people listening, most of whom lived in despair and without hope. Immediately, he told them they are blessed before all others. What a way to get them listening!

Who are the poor in spirit in our world today? Notice Jesus doesn't just say "the poor" here. Now, I'll admit, when I first began embracing progressive Christianity, this bothered. I thought it must be a mistranslation. Wouldn't it make more sense for Jesus to just say "the poor?" I never quite understood it.

But by saying "the poor in spirit," Jesus casts a wider net in today's world. There are many people who live in poverty. There are many more who suffer not just from a lack of wealth, but from depression, or mental illness, or addiction, or loss. This is the poor in spirit in our world.

And yet, they are often the most forgotten. I wrote just today about how the mentally ill are becoming the first victims of states' refusal to accept federal dollars for Medicaid expansion, as safety net hospitals are forced to turn away patients. When it comes to living up to Jesus' first blessing, we are failing miserably.

Two-thirds of the homeless population in the United States are mentally ill. Over 90% of suicides involve a someone suffering from a mental illness. Since the beginning of the war in Afghanistan, over 100,000 veterans have been treated by the VA for mental illness. 57% of children with mental health issues come from families living under the poverty line.

And yet, our nations leaders continue with a push for brutal austerity that inevitably falls hardest on those who need help the most. When cuts happen to federal and state budgets, they don't fall on corporate subsidies and perks. They fall on Medicaid, on DHS, on CHIP, on addiction counseling. Every time we cut more and more in a effort to stop the "takers," we are leaving behind thousands of the mentally ill and needy. We are leaving behind the poor in spirit that Jesus spoke of with his first breath in the Sermon.

If the poor in spirit are so important that Jesus felt compelled to name them first, why do we make them the last in our society today?

How "Christian America" Deals With the Mentally Ill

It's often the most politically conservative states who like to pride themselves on being the most Christian states as well. They only elect God-fearing Christians, they say, and the only rules they live by are the rules of Christ.

Christian Example and Georgia Governor Nathan Deal

So how do the God-fearing men and women of Georgia explain this?

Every day he’s without his meds, Scott Patrick’s demons return: the urge to get high to forget that he’s dying of AIDS; the anxiety, paranoia, and phantom noises spurred on by his bipolar disorder and PTSD.

Patrick, a former male prostitute and recovering drug addict, was released from a Georgia jail last month without any of his medications on hand. “I could die dirty or die clean,” he said. “I want to die clean.”

So like many struggling Atlantans with nowhere else to go, Patrick sought treatment at Grady Memorial, the state’s largest safety net hospital. He carried all his worldly possessions with him: a change of clothes, a Bible, and some vitamin C drops.

The partisan war over Obamacare is now threatening the mental health services that Patrick and countless others are seeking. The president’s health care law cuts federal subsidies to safety-net hospitals that were expected to have more paying patients under the law’s Medicaid expansion and insurance exchanges. But Republican-controlled states like Georgia have refused to go along with the expansion. That’s turned safety-net providers like Grady into unintended casualties—and mental health services for Georgia’s most troubled residents are first on the chopping block.

It was never meant to happen this way. States like Georgia, which has the nation’s sixth-highest uninsured rate, were supposed to be the biggest beneficiaries of the new Medicaid dollars. But in 2012, the Supreme Court unexpectedly ruled that the federal government couldn’t force states to accept the expansion.

Along with 22 other states with Republican governors or statehouses, Georgia Gov. Nathan Deal has refused to go along with the Medicaid expansion, saying the cost to the state would be untenable. Democrats counter that it’s a cruel political stunt, since the cost of new coverage is overwhelmingly paid for by the federal government.

So safety-net hospitals like Grady are now caught in the middle: they aren’t getting new Medicaid funding, yet they’ll see a cumulative $18 billion reduction in federal payments by 2020.

It's terrible that people have to live like this, with no hope and no security. And all for political games, all for the purpose of sticking it to President Obama. Rejection of live saving medical care for the most vulnerable doesn't seem very Christ-like to me. These political games and partisan cheap shots have real world consequences for real people. Perhaps Governor Deal and other Republican leaders should put down the latest Americans for Prosperity newsletter, and pick up a Bible.

The Complicated Legacy of Martin Luther King Jr.

Yesterday was Martin Luther King Jr Day. As the day approached, I had been pondering what to write about Dr. King. The Civil Rights movement, the Poor People's Campaign, Dr. King's various sermons and speeches: all fit in my niche here. What a plethora of subject matter.

But maybe another day.

The topic in my home during the lead-up to MLK Day has been the Reverend's downfalls and personal demons. Most specifically his penchant for extramarital affairs. We have struggled with how to assess Dr. King, knowing he did great things, but that he also violated the trust and integrity of his marriage. Should we continue to revere him, or reject him?

The fact of his affairs has been distorted by both sides assessing Dr. King's legacy. His detractors love to bring it up, to make it the defining characteristic of him, to cast him as the arch liberal hypocrite. They question how a man of God could engage in such acts and still maintain the moral high ground he holds in memory. His defenders refuse to even acknowledge the existence of such trysts, preferring to cast Dr. King as some hyper-moral superman. With those who wish to roll back the gains he won still active and committed, its natural for those of us who supported his goals to wish to close ranks and deny his sins.

 Both approaches are unfair to his legacy.

Martin Luther King Jr. was the driving force behind the defining political movement of the 20th century, and perhaps American history. He lead a great drive for freedom and equality, the two principles this nation is built on. He had great personal courage, being imprisoned and spit on and beat and cursed all through his life. He made some of the greatest statements in American history, statements that will live longer than almost any others for the sheer weight of good and right in them.

"I have a dream."

"The arc of the moral universe is long, and bends towards justice."

"I have seen the promised land."

Yet, there is no doubt that he was a flawed man. His affairs violated the sacred bond with his wife, and cast a shadow on the morality at play in his personal life. They reveal a man who could bend the rules. Some ask, if he couldn't keep to the straight and narrow in his personal life, how do we know he didn't bend the rules in public? How do we know he didn't potentially coordinate with more violent segments of the Civil Rights movement, or pay supporters to join the march, or purposefully curry violence to cast his movement in a victim's light?

His shortcomings do tarnish the man, as they should. But they come as a shock to many. Because we have done to Dr. King what we do to all great heroes. We try too often to make the great people in history out to be perfect. We put them on a pedestal. We begin to believe they were infallible, that they were gods among us.

It is unfair to them and unfair to us. No one is immortal. No one is without faults.

Lest we forget, the great men of the Bible were flawed.

Noah liked the get drunk. Moses was a murderer. King David was an adulterer. Peter was a coward and denier of Christ. St. Paul spent a good portion of his adult live pursuing, torturing and killing Christians.

Lest we forget, the vast majority of our Founding Fathers supported the enslavement of one race, and the extermination of another. Our Presidents all had great faults.

Washington and Jefferson owned slaves. Andrew Jackson ordered the Trail of Tears. Abraham Lincoln believed the intermixing of the races was impossible, and all freed slaves should be sent back to Africa upon their liberation. Woodrow Wilson, our only President to hold a PhD, was an unrepentant racist. Roosevelt had an ego that sometimes got in the way of effective governing. Truman (my favorite president) ordered the dropping of two atomic bombs on civilian populations. Kennedy had numerous affairs.

But these things do not define any of these men. Nor should they. Because they were human beings, complicated and fallible and weak, but at the same time, intelligent and driven and strong. They shaped the world and should be remembered for doing so. Their sins were damaging, but their achievements were great.

The focus by some on the downfalls of Dr. King are even more damaging than those of our white heroes. The scorn heaped upon MLK perpetuates the belief that for a black man to go down as a great American, he must have lived a spotless life. This is not fair to MLK, or to the legacy of African Americans. We do not hold white Americans to the same standards. We deify the Founders and whitewash their sins, but hold sins against King and Malcolm and the other great leaders of the Civil Rights era.

The shortcomings and sins of our most hallowed figures should not define them. But they help us understand them. They show us that it is not immortals who do great deeds, but human beings, just like you and me. It is right of us to remember Dr. King as the great man he was, to appreciate the great deeds he achieved. It is also right of us to remember his weakness, his humanity, so that we may know that, despite our own faults, we can change the world as well.

It may be difficult to assess Dr. King this way. We may not be able to get past his shortcomings. It feeds the narrative of those who roll back the gains he achieved, who wish to obscure his fight not just for racial justice, but for economic and social justice. But we must remember that it is not personalities and individuals who define our drive for justice. It is the innate rightness of what we fight for. We are flawed, but our cause is not. Jesus told us, "He who is without sin, cast the first stone." All of us would do well to remember that.

The Methodist Inquistion Claims Another

The modern-day inquisition continues.

Just weeks after the defrocking of Rev. Frank Schaefer of Pennsylvania, the United Methodist Church in New York has begun proceeding against the Rev. Thomas Ogletree for presiding over the marriage of his gay son.

Ogletree is a retired elder, as well as former Yale Divinity School Dean. The wedding in question happened in 2012, in New York, where gay marriage is legal. Ogletree put out a statement, saying:

"It is a shame that the church is choosing to prosecute me for this act of love, which is entirely in keeping with my ordination vows to 'seek peace, justice, and freedom for all people' and with Methodism's historic commitment to inclusive ministry embodied in its slogan 'open hearts, open minds, open doors.'"

Rev. Ogletree's actions were brought to the New York conference's attention by a group of Methodist ministers, after they saw a wedding announcement in the New York Times celebrating the couple's new marriage.

It's terribly sad to see this kind of witch hunt happening in the UMC again. As I wrote last week, this does not present the church in the light of Christ's love and radical acceptance. It's comforting to know that the church is evolving fairly quickly on this issue, but sad that it is not happening fast enough to protect good ministers who have dedicated their lives to the church.

The Forgotten People of West Virginia

By now, we've all seen the picture and videos of the chemical spill in West Virginia this week. We've absorbed the angry, sickened and hurt reactions of the residents there, who put trust into Freedom Industries to safely operate a coal business in their backyards, as they realized Freedom Industries showed no respect for them.

Not to mention the attitude, not of surprise, but inevitability. The people of West Virginia are well versed in environmental clean-up and danger. They have dealt with it for 150 years, since coal started to be pulled from their ground in almost unimaginable quantities. And throughout that entire history, as lords of industry have employed every tool of technology and greed to grow rich off the natural resources on West Virginia, the population of the state has remained in poverty, undereducated and all but forgotten. Looked upon as nothing but a cog in the great Coal Machine.

The chemical spill is a tragedy not just for it's effects on nature, not just because it has contaminated the drinking of thousands. It's a tragedy because it is another hit against the poorest of the poor in America, the people of Appalachia. Inevitably, when something like this happens, it's the little people who suffer the consequences. Justice is not part of the equation in the plundering of natural resources. These people work harder than any other group of people, and see almost none of the returns. Others get rich off of their labor. We lament these tragedies, and then move on, and forget these people exist.

The median household income in West Virginia is $22,482. 18% of the population has a college degree, more than ten points off the national average. The poverty rate is nearly 18%. Wal Mart is the state's largst employer. We forget this kind of abject poverty exists in America. That this kind of poverty doesn't just strike black folks in St. Louis or Atlanta or Los Angeles.

This is what happens when greed takes precedence over people. This was not an accident. This was the direct result of greed, of lax regulatory oversight, of a non-existent inspection system. This is what happens when a group of poor, ill-represented people live on top of something that can make a very few, very rich. They become just as disposable as the dirt and water and mountaintops and old equipment.

These are the people Jesus spoke of in his Sermon on the Mount. These are the people Jesus spoke of as the "least of these."  These are the kinds of people Jesus spent his ministry serving, and called us to serve as well. When we let these kind of things happen, when we dismiss the environmental effects of coal and oil. And it's not just in West Virginia. Environmental tragedy and climate change affect the poor in the Caribbean, in Southeast Asia, in rural China, in the Amazon. They pay for our addiction to dirty energy.

I'll leave you with the words of a professor at West Virginia Wesleyan University, the words describing the rage he felt upon seeing the impacts of this completely preventable disaster on his family and friends and neighbors. I imagine it's the rage filling all the people affected, filling all of us who see this thing and know it didn't have to happen.

To hell with you.
To hell with every greedhead operator who flocked here throughout history because you wanted what we had, but wanted us to go underground and get it for you. To hell with you for offering above-average wages in a place filled with workers who'd never had a decent shot at employment or education, and then treating the people you found here like just another material resource -- suitable for exploiting and using up, and discarding when they'd outlived their usefulness. To hell with you for rigging the game so that those wages were paid in currency that was worthless everywhere but at the company store, so that all you did was let the workers hold it for a while, before they went into debt they couldn't get out of.
To hell with you all for continuing, as coal became chemical, to exploit the lax, poorly-enforced safety regulations here, so that you could do your business in the cheapest manner possible by shortcutting the health and quality of life not only of your workers, but of everybody who lives here. To hell with every operator who ever referred to West Virginians as "our neighbors."
To hell with every single screwjob elected official and politico under whose watch it all went on, who helped write those lax regulations and then turned away when even those weren't followed. To hell with you all, who were supposed to be stewards of the public interest, and who sold us out for money, for political power. To hell with every one of you who decided that making life convenient for business meant making life dangerous for us. To hell with you for making us the eggs you had to break in order to make breakfast.
To hell with everyone who ever asked me how I could stand to live in a place like this, so dirty and unhealthy and uneducated. To hell with everyone who ever asked me why people don't just leave, don't just quit (and go to one of the other thousand jobs I suppose you imagine are widely available here), like it never occurred to us, like if only we dumb hilljacks would listen as you explained the safety hazards, we'd all suddenly recognize something that hadn't been on our radar until now.
To hell with the superior attitude one so often encounters in these conversations, and usually from people who have no idea about the complexity and the long history at work in it. To hell with the person I met during my PhD work who, within ten seconds of finding out I was from West Virginia, congratulated me on being able to read. (Stranger, wherever you are today, please know this: Standing in that room full of people, three feet away from you while you smiled at your joke, I very nearly lost control over every civil checkpoint in my body. And though civility was plainly not your native tongue, I did what we have done for generations where I come from, when faced with rude stupidity: I tamped down my first response, and I managed to restrain myself from behaving in a way that would have required a deep cleaning and medical sterilization of the carpet. I did not do any of the things I wanted to. But stranger, please know how badly I wanted to do them.)
And, as long as I'm roundhouse damning everyone, and since my own relatives worked in the coal mines and I can therefore play the Family Card, the one that trumps everything around here: To hell with all of my fellow West Virginians who bought so deeply into the idea of avoidable personal risk and constant sacrifice as an honorable condition under which to live, that they turned that condition into a culture of perverted, twisted pride and self-righteousness, to be celebrated and defended against outsiders. To hell with that insular, xenophobic pathology. To hell with everyone whose only take-away from every story about every explosion, every leak, every mine collapse, is some vague and idiotic vanity in the continued endurance of West Virginians under adverse, sometimes killing circumstances. To hell with everyone everywhere who ever mistook suffering for honor, and who ever taught that to their kids. There's nothing honorable about suffering. Nothing.
To hell with you. This is the one moment in my adult life when I have wished I could still believe in Hell as an actual, physical reality, so that I could imagine you in it.

Amen to that.