After arriving at church almost an hour late (completely over it) I took my seat on the second row on the far right next to Aunt Ruth (not my biological aunt). Feeling the way I had been feeling this past month, it almost didn’t matter that I was late. But when I took my seat I noticed MRS. Dottie Peoples sitting directly in front of me and there were about 6 people on the platform from London here to celebrate Dr. Maya Angelou’s birthday and announce the opening of libraries in her honor in South Africa and Ghana.

The theme for the service today was “Serving to Give, Giving to Serve.” Funny how sermon titles tend to become so colloquialistic and maximish (both my words) that I had to spend time trying to “get it.” By the time I had “gotten it” I was being volunteered for one of five skits she did about compassion. It all came from Luke 10:25-37 The first skit, I was the man on the road to Jericho who had been robbed and beaten. Funny enough, I chose this role. This important and I will tell you why in a minute. For now, just put a pin in that.

The second skit was a daughter telling her mother she was pregnant. Blah Blah Blah! The Skits that hit home were the skit when a daughter was not accepted by a parent because she had AIDS. As I sat there teary eyed and already weary from holding a fake smile, because I was on camera, I thought about my mothers response when I told her “her baby had HIV,” “That’s what you get for trying to be grown,” she said! My mother and I barely speak now! That replayed in my mind like a bad episode of Seinfeld (all 180 episodes). The there was a skit about a girl coming out to her mother about being gay. Those are both subjects I think I can more identify with than the people who played the roles. For me those would have been roles of show and tell, because while they are not big secrets, the whole church doesn’t know.

…but God!

I played the role I played because I had an important lesson to learn.

Now, back to that pin. I sat there and considered, in all my haste and angst why I chose to play the role of the man on the road to Jericho. I could have been any other male role available. I chose to play the victim, because when i walked in that church that was how I felt. I felt robbed and beaten by my friends and my family. I felt forgotten. I felt lost and abandoned by life and all its inhabitants. I felt disconnected and disassociated from my source. I felt the pain in my heart and I know as hard as I tried to hide it, it was as visible as the as the shiny dress MRS. Peoples had on!

The point I am making, in this case, it that I chose to be the victim… the hurt and betrayed one. I chose that role! That is why I am where I am now, but I have no clue how to remove myself from the choices I have made. The world, in this case the church, was watching me and they saw I needed help, and no one lifted a finger except that one good Samaritan, who no longer bear to see Jonathan in soo much pain and confusion, he could hardly hold his eyes up not to mention his head.

As Dottie got up and sang “On Time God,” I sat next to Aunt Ruth, with my head in here 101 year old hands and choked back tears and disappointment as she sat there and just held me close. Am I less spiritual or a bad person, because i was not feeling that song? I didn’t care. I just knew I wasn’t convinced.

As I wheeled her to the car, and helped her in, “Aunt Ruth,” I said. “Yes baby!” “Please don’t stop praying for me!” “I won’t, I pray for you all the time!” With that I shut the door and wished her well!

Finally, I went to Dr. Barbara’s office hugged and kissed her. “I don’t know what’s going on!” She said to me, “We’ll talk!”

Now I’m home!