“What is tolerance? It is the consequence of humanity. We are all formed of frailty and error. Let us pardon reciprocally each other’s folly. That is the first law of nature.” — Voltaire
“And as they continued to ask him, he stood up and said to them, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” — John 8:7
First off, let me tell you that this post will most likely be full of writing errors. If stuff like that turns you off, then don’t read past this first paragraph. 
Also, this is a random stream of consciousness that has been sitting in my noggin for about 4 days. Most likely it has cured enough, but it may be a little edgy; a little poignant.
This is a story that I’ve never shared with another soul. It is an experience that forever changed my life, and made me take a deeper look at myself and how I wanted to be as an “adult.”
As a teenager I worked at a resort in French Lick, Indiana. Many of the workers were not from the area, nor were they even from the United States. These people, my friends, were not the usual demographics of the area. They were Jamaican American, not white, and nothing near Christian. However, to me, they were just folks – not something to be categorized or defined – and I called them all friends.
One night, as another co-worker (who was higher up in the C.O.C. of us lowly Food and Beverage workers) was harassing me in a very unprofessional manner, my friend stepped up and took care of the situation.
While this isn’t shocking to most, as friends stick up for friends. However, my friends could have lost their jobs and been sent back to Jamaica. Their own well-being aside, they took a chance to stand up for a fellow friend. As my aggressor walked off, he called me something derogatory and spit at me.
That was my first look into the angry eyes of racism. I’d seen other -isms, but the fear and misunderstanding wasn’t as pronounced as almost being spit upon. Usually it was just some gossip about this person who went to that church, or how someone’s husband drank too much.
As the song goes, “I was blind, but now I see,” all sort of unfairness began showing up in my life. A woman I greatly respected, and who knew everything about the Bible you could know, was called a “witch” because she treated people with nature’s medicine, and healing them with touch and song. Other women would rally around her and call her the most awful things, then secretly visit her for healing.
In college my eyes were opened to so much, that I flunked out my Freshman year. Because I couldn’t handle the intensity of seeing people hurt by their fellow human, my defense was to sit in my dorm room and cry. The story I tell folks is that my flunking out was due to partying…when in truth it was due to sadness.
Years passed, life happened, and the years of studying literature and religion still weren’t providing answers to the ills of humanity. Lost and wandering, hoping for an answer, a wonderful man dropped me a note asking if we could have coffee. Little did either of us know that our lives were about to radically change forever and ever, Amen.
On November 2, 1998, my oldest were born amid a flurry of doctors, beeping lights and tears. As these little persons were pressed close to my face, my whole being shifted. Instead of being *me* focused, I was *them* focused. In fact, so intense was my “them focusing,” that something else was born that day — my inner mama bear.
Life came and went, and the addition of another beautiful child graced our family. A few years later, yet another beautiful miracle came into our world. Four wonderful beings of Grace and pure love. As we say around the Upton house, “blessed beyond belief.”
So…my testimony…
Let’s look at what that word means, first, in order to get an okay understanding of how it impacts this post.
I really like what Wikipedia has to say about the word:
“In law and in religion, testimony is a solemn attestation as to the truth of a matter. All testimonies should be well thought out and truthful.”
Well thought out…I like that. But if you continue on, you will see something that really catches your eye. It sort of makes you stop and think about the power of your words, or the importance of using language for the good of all.
Some published oral or written autobiographical narratives are considered “testimonial literature” particularly when they present evidence or first person accounts of human rights abuses, violence and war, and living under conditions of social oppression. This usage of the term comes originally from Latin America and the Spanish term “testimonio” when it emerged from human rights tribunals, truth commissions, and other international human rights instruments in countries such as Chile and Argentina. One of the most famous, though controversial, of these works to be translated into English is I, Rigoberta Menchú. The autobiographies of Frederick Douglass can be considered among the earliest significant English-language works in this genre.
Now that you have some good understanding of what I’m about to do, please enjoy some Friday morning testimony…from a mother of four kids…who also believes in something greater than we can understand…and who pays taxes…and who helps friends…and who loves everyone (even if I don’t understand them, or…like them at times).
Listen up, folks. Sit down and take a moment to stop, breath and center yourself. What I’m about to testify to you about today is nothing new. Philosophers, prophets and messiahs have been telling you the same thing for as long as we have recorded words and images. In the most recent of our human history, we have been coached by some of the greatest of souls, and loved by the strongest warrior. Mothers have cried themselves to sleep as their son or daughter go off to work for the good of all, and fathers have stood at the doorway as a shadow of protection for their child.
And what is this thing that people are willing to die for – to give up their entire life in the service of others?
Tolerance.
Yes, just one little thing. Tolerance. It is that one that we think we all have, but when pressed up against the wall, we are too concerned about what others think to let it shine forth.
No matter how much you bicker about your faith system, or what God wants, or what some institution says is okay, there is no question about how important one little word is to a whole organism of living entities.
Tolerance.
I admit, there is much work for me to do in this field. If anything I’m intolerant to intolerance. While I fully understand it is impossible for us all to agree on everything, we have the capability to at least *understand* each other. And, if we can do that, then we can stop judging everyone.
Judge not.
That phrase is every holy book from here to the Moon. No matter what your faith, or belief system, somewhere in Scripture is states: “you are not to judge others.” And in non-religious texts, you’ll see the same sentiment parroted throughout pages of lectures: “be as to others as you wish them to be with you.”
So, when Time magazine puts out an article of a mother breastfeeding her child, see it for what it is – journalism being sensational. Stand up for the injustice that is The Media, and how it delights in pitting mother against mother; family against family.
If a President, Vice President, or some other political player says something about equal rights, don’t find two lines in your holy book that backs up your insecurity and fear. Read, and read again, where it says that we are all struggling as humans, and to beat down each other makes your Creator cry.
When we fight over food choices, and start to make people feel badly for eating…anything…remember that in the end, the last shall be first, and the first shall be last. The least that you do others is also what you do to all of humanity.
Why is one belief system better than any other? Theologians, philosophers and gurus all work for the same boss – whether you believe in that boss or not. It is the Dogma that gets people, not the Creator. Stop trying to translate something into a system that propagates your fear and worry. Remember we are just human…and being human is a mighty hard path to walk.
In the past week I’ve personally faced attacks on my way of life, how I parent, how I engage with the community, and how I will just not tolerate being bullied in any way shape or form. And, no matter what encounters come my way, as a mother of four beautiful and wonderful children, I will not back down in my path of tolerance. Yes, I have quite a bit to learn, and yes, I make mistakes (and I thank God everyday for what I learn in these mistakes!!!).
There is no other way to translate what the Holy Books say, and, in one of the most read, from Matthew 22:36-40, it clearly states:
36 “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”
37 Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’[a] 38 This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’[b] 40 All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”
Both of these “commandments” are pretty self explanatory. And for those who are of different faiths, feel free to exchange God with Universe, All That Is, The Great And Unknowable Mystery Of Life – whatever. It is pretty clear that we are asked to love and trust in something bigger than ourselves, and to pass that love and understanding on to those around us.
Or, in modern terms, this is Jesus saying, “Oh, the greatest teaching to you? Well, if there is one thing for each of you to learn before leaving this Earth, it would be this: tolerate each other.”
—
Today you are invited to meditate, pray, or think about what tolerance means in your life.
Sending lots of love, hugs and joy to all y’all!
