Scripture

"Just as a reservoir is of little use when the whole countryside is flooded, scriptures are of little use to the illumined man or woman who sees the Lord everywhere"
-Bhagavad Gita 2:46

So, my mother is a minister. Although I was raised Baptist, I don't think she'd pin her ministry down to any particular denomination. We agree that any such distinction is divisive and contrary to the goals of her ministry. Her ministry is inclusive.

So, my mother is a minister. I love her a lot. My heart hurts when I think about the pain that my heterodoxy might cause her. I'm sure that she, like every minister mom, would prefer a good Christian son. A good, straight, church-going, Christian son. Try as I might though, I can't bring myself to do it. Immersing myself in the irresponsible theology of any institution would prove too costly for my spiritual evolution. So, not even for the sake of my most beloved could I compromise the wellness of my spirit. Sometimes this feels selfish.

So, my mother is a minister. Sometimes it hurts me that she could believe what she believes. That she could imbibe and embrace a patriarchal system that undermines her personhood and refuses to acknowledge the fact that my family has been a matriarchy for several generations now. It hurts me that she might think that I lead an immoral life. That I have willfully chosen a life of sin. That my union with my partner sullies and mocks the institution of marriage. That she invests time attempting to pray me through the dark phase of my life she perceives me to be in. That she wonders why her prayers are not being answered. It hurts a lot.

So, my mother is a minister, and I am her biggest supporter. There is no paradox here. No irony. Spiritually, she and I speak two different languages. We come from different standpoints and represent two estranged spiritual cultures. Our spirits are nonetheless bound to one another. She listens to me as best she can. She is always right. I interpret her dreams. I proof-read her sermons. I walk with her through the scripture. I encourage her to share her gift of God's compassion and the message of God's unconditional love with the world. This is how I love her. And I love her. I love her.

So, my mother is a minister, and she harbors all kinds of anxiety about her abilities. She wishes she could comprehend everything that she reads, like her son. She wishes she spoke as eloquently as her son. That she had the expansive vocabulary of her son.

So, my mother is a minister. She works the midnight shift as a corrections officer in the county jail. She has come home with scrapes, bruises, bite marks and lawsuits from the prisoners she's had to fight and restrain in order to make the money that sent me to college. She has paid the price for the public speaking classes behind the eloquence. She has paid the price for every word of that vocabulary.

So, my mother is a minister. She fears that she will never be able to quote the Bible like a good minister. She's embarrassed that she can not recite scriptures like a good minister. She feels inadequate at times.

I share with her, "Just as a reservoir is of little use when the whole countryside is flooded, scriptures are of little use to the illumined man or woman who sees the Lord everywhere" and she smiles.

As it strikes a chord and offers a beacon of hope, she asks where the verse comes from.

When her mind fails in three attempts to cognize and pronounce "Bhagavad Gita" the smile fades, and she knows that this alien "wisdom" can bring nothing but folly. It is not from her God.

I tuck away all things Eastern, all things university, all things eloquent and pray to my mother's God that everything she needs to come true, come true.