"You sure you know what he’s capable of?”
"Yes, thank you, I know him.”
WOW i didn’t realize how much i’d missed sleepy hollow
US Flag Code § 8(a)The flag should never be displayed with the union down, except as a signal of dire distress in instances of extreme danger to life or property.
This specifically refers to a hand striking the side of a person’s face, tells quite a different story when placed in it’s proper historical context. In Jesus’s time, striking someone of a lower class ( a servant) with the back of the hand was used to assert authority and dominance. If the persecuted person “turned the other cheek,” the discipliner was faced with a dilemma. The left hand was used for unclean purposes, so a back-hand strike on the opposite cheek would not be performed. Another alternative would be a slap with the open hand as a challenge or to punch the person, but this was seen as a statement of equality. Thus, by turning the other cheek the persecuted was in effect putting an end to the behavior or if the slapping continued the person would lawfully be deemed equal and have to be released as a servant/slave.
THAT makes a lot more sense, now, thank you.
I can attest to the original poster’s comments. A few years back I took an intensive seminar on faith-based progressive activism, and we spent an entire unit discussing how many of Jesus’ instructions and stories were performative protests designed to shed light on and ridicule the oppressions of that time period as a way to emphasize the absurdity of the social hierarchy and give people the will and motivation to make changes for a more free and equal society.
For example, the next verse (Matthew 5:40) states “And if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well.” In that time period, men traditionally wore a shirt and a coat-like garment as their daily wear. To sue someone for their shirt was to put them in their place - suing was generally only performed to take care of outstanding debts, and to be sued for one’s shirt meant that the person was so destitute the only valuable thing they could repay with was their own clothing. However, many cultures at that time (including Hebrew peoples) had prohibitions bordering on taboo against public nudity, so for a sued man to surrender both his shirt and his coat was to turn the system on its head and symbolically state, in a very public forum, that “I have no money with which to repay this person, but they are so insistent on taking advantage of my poverty that I am leaving this hearing buck-ass naked. His greed is the cause of a shameful public spectacle.”
All of a sudden an action of power (suing someone for their shirt) becomes a powerful symbol of subversion and mockery, as the suing patron either accepts the coat (and therefore full responsibility as the cause of the other man’s shameful display) or desperately chases the protester around trying to return his clothes to him, making a fool of himself in front of his peers and the entire gathered community.
Additionally, the next verse (Matthew 5:41; “If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles.”) was a big middle finger to the Romans who had taken over Judea and were not seen as legitimate authority by the majority of the population there. Roman law stated that a centurion on the march could require a Jew (and possibly other civilians as well, although I don’t remember explicitly) to carry his pack at any time and for any reason for one mile along the road (and because of the importance of the Roman highway system in maintaining rule over the expansive empire, the roads tended to be very well ordered and marked), however hecould not require any service beyond the next mile marker. For a Jewish civilian to carry a centurion’s pack for an entire second mile was a way to subvert the authority of the occupying forces. If the civilian wouldn’t give the pack back at the end of the first mile, the centurion would either have to forcibly take it back or report the civilian to his commanding officer (both of which would result in discipline being taken against the soldier for breaking Roman law) or wait until the civilian volunteered to return the pack, giving the Judean native implicit power over the occupying Roman and completely subverting the power structure of the Empire. Can you imagine how demoralizing that must have been for the highly ordered Roman armies that patrolled the region?
Jesus was a pacifist, but his teachings were in no way passive. There’s a reason he was practically considered a terrorist by the reigning powers, and it wasn’t because he healed the sick and fed the hungry.
today is bi visibility day. as such, bisexual people will be completely visible for the next 24 hours. this is a bad day to engage in bank heists, ghost impersonations, covert operations for vague yet menacing government agencies, and other common bisexual hobbies that rely upon our powers of invisibility.
reblog to save a life.
I live on a very peculiar island, and though I’ve been here for a long while now, I know almost nothing about it. I don’t know the reason I am here, nor do I know if there’s even a reason to be known. One day I opened my eyes, and here I was—knowing nothing and knowing no one, ignorant of all that had come before.
And I learned that this island was a place of strange science: I found out that I was spinning through space at thousands of miles per hour; my island hurls itself around a giant ball of light about a quarter of a million miles every day. And I learned that this island was a place of strange faith: ab aeterno, since time immemorial, men and women had put their trust in a man they couldn’t see or hear, believing he had brought them here for a purpose. The faithful built temples and statues in his honor, they killed for him and they died for him. The scientists didn’t believe he existed at all, declaring instead that they were only here as a result of a chain of meaningless circumstances—of accidents. Everyone who has ever been here has had the same questions: what is this place, and why am I here? People have tried to answer it in different ways; some have conducted experiments and dug into the earth in search of the truth, while some have put their faith in the belief that a higher power has rendered them special and purposeful. No one has ever come close to knowing, and many, many times we have gone to war to control this place. Knives, then guns, then bombs, in holy war.
And a man named John Locke told us that we were born tabula rasa, our mind a blank slate. He told us that nature demanded egalitarianism. A man named Carlyle said that “everywhere the human soul stands between a hemisphere of light and another of darkness; on the confines of the two everlasting empires, necessity and free will.” A man named De Groot debated fate and free will; when he died, his last words were this: “by understanding many things, I have accomplished nothing.” A man named Hume debated the same things, and determined that “a false sensation or seeming experience” could explain what we believe to be choices—only later do we realize that our choices were necessary all along. His rival, Rousseau, believed that man was a noble savage; before he went insane, he wrote of self-preservation that “patience is bitter but its fruit is sweet.” Some believed that a Good Shepherd laid down his life to save us, and that a Christian would rise again after death.
LOST was beautiful because it was about an island exactly like mine. Everyone dies, and one day I’ll die, like you, not knowing what this has all meant. We can ask the question (and Charlie put it best: “guys, where are we?”) all we want, but our existence is special because the earth is incomprehensible and magical, and no amount of faith and no amount of science will ever truly enlighten us. If you thought LOST was weird, well, it’s certainly no weirder than life. You think a sentient cloud of electric smoke is over the top? I think the fact that a screen in my apartment is currently showing me a live baseball game being played in Florida is, in a vacuum, no less incredible. Science fiction is relative: if you had never heard of the internet, or giraffes, or rainbows, you’d think those were science fiction too. Of course LOST was strange in its details, but those characters’ fears and moments of wonder were in many ways just like our own.
I love the way LOST ended. It resolved all questions the way they are resolved in our own lives. Dead is dead. Whatever happened, happened. Some things are irreversible, and you can’t fix the past. My favorite moment of the entire series came at the end, in the space between life and death, when Ben and Hugo told each other what a great job the other did as #1 and #2. Like Jacob and Richard, they must have protected the island for wonderful centuries together—and we never got to see it. And we never got to see it because we’re Jack. And the question we always wondered—the question we always will wonder—remained. What is this place, and why were we here? And they answered that too, in the most beautiful way imaginable: you don’t get to find out.
You don’t get to find out. There is fear, and death is a monster, and life is a monster, and there will always be others out there in the woods. But there is love, and we have friends, and as long as we are here we can believe whatever we like and make our choices and find the things that we can. But hail mystery! Some things can’t be found, because the most important things are lost. What is life? The reason we’re here? The thing we fight over, the thing we protect? What is death, and what happens after The End? You don’t get to find out.
So you can let go now, Jack.
September 22nd, 2004 ◆ 10 years of LOST
"Do you really think all this is an accident? That we, a group of strangers, survived, many of us with just superficial injuries? Do you think we crashed on this place by coincidence - especially this place? We were brought here for a purpose, for a reason, all of us. Each one of us was brought here for a reason."