On October 3, we forced Jesus into an abandoned basement in the Bronx. He was humiliated and tortured along with two of his friends. We stripped him naked and burned him with cigarettes, simply because we thought he was gay.
On September 22, we pushed Jesus Christ to the brink. So Jesus left his dormitory at Rutgers University, took a familiar path down to the George Washington Bridge and stepped out onto a very unfamiliar ledge. He took out his cellphone to update his Facebook status one last time and then took his last fatal steps off the ledge of the bridge.
Eleven days before that, in five different sites around the country we gathered around fire pits and torched Jesus’ Quran. We claimed that his religion was of the devil and we hid behind the First Amendment.
While it may seem strange in this climate and culture to liken Jesus to a gay college student, or to the religion of Islam, I believe he might be a lot closer to these identities than we might be comfortable admitting. Hear the familiar words of Jesus from Matthew 25:
42 For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, 43 I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.
When his disciples asked him when they saw him in these situations, Jesus replies, “I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” (Verse 4o)
The question stirs deep within me as I read story after story after story. Who are the hungry and thirsty? Who are the stranger and the naked? Who are the sick and imprisoned? Who are the least among us?
In a political climate where we are viciously fighting for differing government ideologies, different laws to affect our social order, and making our side the victims that are being left out, we are forgetting those voices who are never heard – the true victims…the least of these. While we may proclaim, “Don’t tread on me!” it seems that we are unknowingly treading on the one we claim to be fighting to bring this country back to – Jesus. Gays and Lesbians who are treated as subordinate citizens by law, who are antagonized for their struggle and whom no one will speak out for. The religion of Islam who cannot build houses of worship, who are discriminated against and killed for what they believe. It will not be politically profitable to support these groups anytime in the near future – and that’s exactly why they’re the type of folk Jesus would be around.
I realize that this is a very divisive issue in our religious and political landscape. But this is no longer about right doctrine or political gain, it is about humanity. And with each person that is persecuted and each life that is ended shortly the humanity of Jesus suffers.
And so today, I wear purple. It is a very small gesture but it is a sign that I stand in solidarity with those affected by the recent suicides as a result of anti-gay harassment. I wear purple because I believe it is what Jesus would do. And I wear purple because I believe that when I reach heaven, the first thing Jesus will ask me about is how I refused equal rights, dignity, and love to my gay, lesbian and Muslim brothers and sisters (and countless others). I will ask for mercy and remember the day that Jesus and I wore purple together as our sign of solidarity.
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