"The Hulk"

These personality quizzes keep coming up on Facebook, one of which, “Which Avenger Are You?” Come to find out, I’m the Hulk. A couple of friends made comments asking if the questions pertained to me turning green or punching people in the throat (my faux karate go-to move).  The truth is, the Hulk is my favorite Avenger. I think it's partly due to the “underneath the surface” that resonates with my seemingly chilled persona.

Last night, the beast came out, or shall I say, was brought forth? It had been rippling underneath throughout the day, ever since I saw the blog titled “Gay and Christian?” posted by an old acquaintance...  

 “Yes, you can be in Christ Jesus and also identify yourself as lesbian or gay, however, if indeed, you are in Christ, the Holy Spirit will eventually, if not already, be convicting you of your homosexual identity. The two can’t exist in you without struggle. Sin has received an eviction notice and can not dwell in you long if you are in Christ. You are a work in progress! Let the struggle begin!” 

I left it rippling, waiting for someone to stop me—to calm me by responding to the hypocritical, self-righteous, short-sightedness of it all. For over twelve hours I waited, but nobody came.

The anger continued to build with escaping warning signs of neck crackling rotations on the subway and an incessant eye twitch.

I tried writing it out—purging anger on paper. I knew I was going to respond. I knew it was not going to be so gracious, try as I might. I shared what I had written with another friend who basically said, “Yeah, you might want to sleep on that.” She was probably right, but I knew little sleep was to be had if I didn’t decompress.

It was eleven o'clock at night, but I justified myself with the thought of, “do not let the sun go down on your anger.”

I replied to the Facebook post as graciously as I could, then shared what I had written with my friend again. This time I got a “very good.” I think what she meant was "not as bad"-- enough of the Ok I needed. And so I slept, that is, after rereading my own blind self-righteousness fifty times over, completely negating my original nasty post directly on the author's blog. I woke up the next morning still thinking about it all, but particularly the reply I had left on the person's post...

"Stating the obvious for those already struggling with their sexual and spiritual identity with this exceptional consideration from someone who has no experience dealing with this issue is awesome in its clueless condescension."

I laid pinned in bed. 

First, I had a flash of Jesus in the temple overturning tables with a whip in his hand... Then I saw him bending over drawing in the sand, reiterating the hypocrisy and self-righteousness Jesus, indeed, abhors.

I clicked on to see who all the 17 “likes” the Facebook acquaintance post had received and saw that one of them was the original blogger.  But when I saw her picture, it finally dawned on me... she’s struggling.  She may be the gay struggling, or she may have struggled with the thought all the way to the point of embracing gays can be Christians. Maybe she has a loved one who is gay whom she desperately wants to believe is saved. I don’t know. But I do know, as she is climbing up that summit in her baby steps, I kind of just punched her in the throat with my words.

So yes, as a gay Christian, I woke up convicted. But it wasn’t because of my identity, aside from the beast. Nor was it for challenging the pharisaical support on my acquaintance's Facebook post. It was for attributing my anger wildly in the wrong direction—Hulk style.

Like Bruce Banner (the doctor-scientist/Hulk), as a future therapist, my intention is to crack problems, but not over people's heads. But where there is injustice, the beast may start twitching again.

Please, hear my plea to curb the avenger.




PS. Becci found this in the New York Times the morning after I wrote this...

PPS...

Random? The day after she gave me the comic, I came across this by, literally, flipping open my Bible to Joshua 20:9... lol

"Any of the Israelites or any alien living among them who killed someone accidentally could flee to those designated cities [cities of refuge] and not be killed by the avenger of blood prior to standing trial before the assembly."