Is Justice a Fluid Concept?

Over the past handful of years, I have learned a lot about justice by being exposed to an unfathomable realm of injustice. This journey started with Mission Year and my time in Englewood. Now having been exposed in such a way, my life will never be devoid of the questions of 1) What is Justice?, 2) What does it mean to live a life of justice?, 3) What does my position in the world mean for the way I live my life?

The first question has a basic answer. What is justice? In the Bible, I think justice is shown to be the righting of wrongs, and particularly through Jesus, I see it as administration of mercy. In the Hebrew Bible (Old Testament, but one of my professors dislikes that term and prefers HB), there is the system of gleaning, which I think is an incredible economic idea that the Church should have a role in enacting somehow today. There is also the Year of Jubilee, where things are returned and set right. In Jesus, we see justice as not giving people what society thinks they should deserve (or even what religion thinks they deserve), but giving mercy (i.e. the story of the woman caught in adultery and the parable of the good Samaritan). "He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God." (Micah 6:8)

After having read theories on social justice and the perpetuation of systemic injustice, I find no way to live a life in the U.S. that is devoid of injustice. Take sweatshops for example. Most of the clothes we buy are made by people working for cents a day, many of which are literally chained to their work stations. Do we boycott those stores? Refuse to shop from them? Besides the economics of it, where masses of people boycotting would collapse our own economic system and ultimately would cause the people currently working in sweatshops to have no means of making a wage, there are other things to consider.

Do you buy from other stores and companies? Do you know where those clothes come from? Do they? Do you only buy from thrift shops? Do you purchase any of the clothes that come from sweatshop brands? After all, your money isn't going to actually support those companies.

It's complicated.

Being the way that I am, I feel that anything that contributes or partakes in injustice to be wrong. But, what about Jesus? He ate food with the Pharisees, He accepted the gift of perfume spilled on his feet, He went to the house of Zacchaeus and ate food that he prepared...

I began to wonder if it was different for Him because He was on the side of those being treated unjustly. Howard Thurman wrote a book called Jesus and the Disinherited. It's written from a liberation theology by a black man in the midst of a decade of racial segregation. He's writing to others who are oppressed. So many books are written to the oppressors, to those who have privilege on their side.

This one's on the other end. Thurman demonstrates in his book how Jesus was on the oppressed side. Ethnically, religiously, economically... Those things shape his responses to the world.

For me, as a young woman with privilege on my side, do I respond to the world in like fashion to Jesus or differently? It wasn't even until after the death of Jesus that Gentiles, who were considered a privileged group ethnically, were even included. Would the gospel look different to them? What about to those with power? What about to Romans? Would the gospel look different to them?  What does it look like in my own nation, which I think is unfortunately, yet aptly described by Psalm 73.

The Magnificat, Mary's song in Luke, talks about an overturning of status and wealth. It is consistent with the Hebrew understanding of justice and the Messiah. Were they mistaken? Did Jesus amend this image or conform to it? And what if Jesus had been a person of privilege? How differently would he have done things? Or would it even have been possible for God to come in a form affording Him worldly power or would that, by its nature, require Him to be less than He is?

I don't have a lot of answers. I do think that God had to come in the form of the oppressed in society. He turned down worldly power, even escaping from those who intended to make Him king by force. Does that mean power is evil? No. He raised many leaders to have powers and He gave privileges that were to be used for the Kingdom, including the "least of these". It is not the gospel for one to have privilege and power that will not be used to benefit those who are disinherited.

What that looks like, I don't know. I think that the Quaker John Woolman had a pretty good idea of it. Woolman didn't support slavery. As a young adult, his boss required him to write a bill of sale for his boss's slave. Regretfully, he did. That was a formative moment. He felt that he had enacted an injustice. Had he refused, he would have lost his job, and the bill would be written by another. But he realized that had he refused, he wouldn't have participated in an evil.

From that point on, his entire life approach changed. As an advocate among the Quakers for the release of slaves, he had to deal with the fact that many of his friends had slaves. What was he to do when they invited him to dinner that the slaves prepared? He could refuse to go, but that would have hurt the community that God had put him in and in the end, probably would not lead his friends to question or change their beliefs. He could go and do/say nothing, but that would, in his mind, make him complicit with the evil he witnessed.

Instead, he went to dinner and enjoyed time with his friends. But he always paid the slaves for their services towards him. He could not speak for his friends, but he would not receive services for free from a person he believed should be free. This allowed him to maintain community, maintain his personal standards, and hopefully cause his friends to question their role in the situation as well.

Chris Heuertz writes on my questions and confusions in his book Friendship at the Margins. He tells a story of wearing a GAP shirt to his friend's house. His friend had worked in sweatshops and when she saw him that day, she recognized the shirt. She had made many just like it and had in fact, been doing work for GAP. He wrestled with how to deal with it. His answers aren't fully sufficient for me. He admits that there is and will be inconsistency at times with what we believe and what we do. His experience with those in the sex industry leads to even more difficult questions. He struggles with the answers. In the end, he doesn't always have them. In the end, he has more insight into the questions to consider that most of us would never think about. But his humility and how he deals with the idea of justice gives me hope.

It seems to me that in the world as it is, justice has to be a fluid concept. It can't be much else. But I will enact Justice as best as I can as I look to the New Heaven and Earth where justice is the mode of being. Where its fluidity is not so much in its conception, but where its fluidity is seen in this light:

Let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream! 
(Amos 5:24, later quoted by Martin Luther King, Jr.)

Seasons vs. Days and My Worldview

Due to a number of factors: my current job/life situation, my recent obsession with TEDtalks, and my ways of coping with life, I started thinking about Life.

Sometimes I classify life by lists. Lists help me to evaluate life. I make lists for things that I actually plan on doing and for things that I don't have any real intention of doing at all. I almost never make grocery lists but I often make lists of thoughts, condensing them to simple, bullet-pointed formats.

I started out this morning by trying to figure out my life's aspirations via lists. I have done this any number of times. In high school I had a folder on my computer's desktop entitled "My Ideal Life". it was separated into various sections of ideals I valued at that time and goals I aspired to. Eventually I deleted it so I wouldn't be haunted by all that my current life is not. But for better or worse, I almost always have some such mental list in my head at any given moment.

Sometimes it helps. For instance, I've discovered my life is much better when I sing often. Best if I sing daily. Writing gives me an outlet that allows me to discover hidden worlds within my thoughts (hence my journal and the existence of this blog). Art and music allow me to participate in a singular moment of time in a way that almost nothing else can.

These are facts about my existence in the world and my flourishing in the world. So I decided once again, in response to my search for "what I should do with my life", to list out different things. The things that I value (list 1) and the things that give me life (list 2). My goal being that I would find combinations of those two lists that would give me insight into a career path. And that, as a result, I would figure out how to structure my day so that each day I participate in life fully.

I have also done this ever since I was a kid. I used lists to make a schedule, an hour-by-hour schedule that dictated what I should be doing when to allow me to do the things that are most life-giving (to myself and to others).

What I realize every time is that what had, at one point, been life-giving becomes life-demanding. If I follow the schedule, it limits me rather than freeing me. It produces stress rather than reducing it. It diminishes me to small components rather than acknowledging that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts (Gestalt theory?/I'm a Psych nerd).

I have a very Western frame of mind. In this instance, a very Type A, Western frame of mind. I thought about how life tends to be lived out in seasons. In Ecclesiastes, the writer talks about various times: a time to laugh, a time to mourn, etc., etc. I, on the other hand, have a 24-hour mindset to conceptualize Time. I see a day as units to be filled, with each day ideally holding a particle of every separate essence of myself. Self-actualization, in my mind, is actualizing every bit of myself in a given day. People with this mindset would hypothetically arrange the literal seasons of the year into a day, where we could experience fall, summer, winter and spring every single day.

That doesn't work at all. It would be like mixing all of your favorite foods into a single morsel. It ruins and depletes each item of its beauty by assigning it such a small place in a mix. Sure, if you ate every meal in this way, you might finish what would have typically been a single-serving of your favorite food, but you would never appreciate its distinctness from anything else. You would never be able to revel in just that one thing and all of its intricacies.

It's useful for me to consider this in life. I'm a hardcore idealist. An extreme idealist who constantly re-envisions life, its meaning, and my place in the big picture, and I want to live into that reality immediately. Everything to me feels urgent. Everything to me is a global issue. Everything contributes to the positive or negative well-being of the cosmos. And I often feel that if I am not vigilant in producing things of value or living into everything that I value all at once, that my decisions are actively destroying what I care about the most.

I forget about seasons. I forget about the Being vs. Doing dichotomy. I lose myself in trying to be myself so that I can be less but serve more in the bigger picture. It's too much. I can't do it all in a day. I can't do it all.

There are seasons. Those seasons 1) are revealed by God, 2) are demanded by your circumstances, or 3) are only revealed to you in hindsight, or some combination of these three. I am not sure which one in I am now. Probably all three. And I will probably figure that out in hindsight. But recognizing the season I am in, defining it, and reveling in the moment and recognizing its distinctness will allow me to live fully into it, offering the most I can of myself to God and to those around me.

A TEDtalks person said, "We all need a fishbowl." Considering my natural tendencies, I think this is especially true for me, and true to my nature, nothing scares me more.


*Note: This is coming from an INFJ. Read a description online and this entire post will make more sense if I seem crazy to you now.

Joy and Unknowingly Joining God's Movement.

I've had a lot of thoughts lately that I reply to in my head by saying, "Ooh, that'd make a good blog entry!" I haven't blogged on a single one yet, but now I'm going to try to combine them into one and hope that they somehow relate to one another (and that this isn't as long-winded as it could be).

One of the things I've been thinking about is how hard it is for me in this exact stage of life to just be present with a moment. It used to be a lot easier for me to just exist in a moment that somehow seemed unbound by time. It seems to be a contradiction, to be so in a moment of time to be unaware of the concept of time, but somehow I know that state because I've experienced it.

Maybe it's the cool of the fall, maybe it's the stress of feeling like I'm in a place I am ill-equipped for, but whatever it is, I keep returning to memories from years ago. One memory that has kept coming back, like a ripple in a small enclosed area that keeps reverberating in space, is the memory of the jacuzzi.

In high school, one of my best friends and I had this tradition of sneaking into this jacuzzi that was owned by a condo out on the Island. There were a few variations to the tradition, but the overall effect was, we would sneak into this jacuzzi late at night. We snuck past the "No Trespassing" sign without a second thought. It became our place. It was as though we always belonged there. We never did anything crazy. We were quiet and respectful. Sometimes we invited friends and sometimes it was just us. It was our escape. We could be joking around or having a serious conversation. Some of our deepest conversations happened out there. Somehow there was an openness there that we couldn't experience in the light of day in the realm of our normal lives.

I remember the feeling of the water. I remember how badly our frozen feet hurt when we first stepped into the hot water. I remember how cold it was in the dead of winter when we ran from the car to the jacuzzi in our bathing suits. I remember the sounds of the ocean waves lapping onto the shore, just  a couple dozen yards from the hot tub. I remember the stars above and the way the moon shone through the clouds on so many nights. It was almost a sacred place.

I have missed being so present with people, with nature, with God, with a single moment. I have been so boggled by a sense of unbelonging in some ways. I am in a new place and I feel right about it. Mostly. But there are still so many questions. Am I supposed to be working where I am? Where am I supposed to live? How is making an actual living possible? I have no doubts that I am supposed to be here. I have doubts about HOW I am supposed to be now that I am here.

I am living in so many moments that don't exist, mentally and emotionally trying on different solutions as though I was picking out the right dress for prom. There's the hope of this beautiful dress, with elements of a few of the special dresses I have tried on. This color, with that waist-line, that intricate beading, and those materials. It would make a beautiful dress. But if such a dress existed, would it really fit? Would it even be as beautiful as I envisioned it?

My saving grace in this has been reading through my journal. Old entries. I had all these ideas of what I wanted. Often God has led me to places that have been different than what I've wanted:

1) I wanted to go to college in Florida, where I had a Bright Future's scholarship with my name on it and acceptance to an academically competitive school. I ended up doing Mission Year in Chicago.
2) I wanted to continue living in Englewood and go to school there afterwards because it fit with my understanding of how God wanted my life to be.
3) Then I wanted to go to school at UIC, where I had already been accepted into the school and into the Honors program. I ended up at a private, Christian school (incidentally, since I was a young teen, I have *never* wanted to go to a Christian school). But I still did live in the inner-city.
4) I ended up moving out of the type of neighborhood I envisioned myself living in. I ended up in a neighborhood that, to me, seemed quite posh in comparison. I moved up near my college.
5) I intended to major in Psychology, but I ended up majoring in Biblical and Theological Studies.
6) After graduating, I intended to stay in Chicago and to start a home church with friends. I ended up moving here, to South Carolina, to become part of a church and God knows what else.

I was amazed at one point, looking at all of these things, trying to make sense of it. I felt like I'd never chosen anything in my life until I moved to South Carolina. But hadn't I chosen each thing in that list?

So often people rely on God to close doors for them to know what to do. Strangely, the way God has often worked with me is by not closing doors. He hasn't closed doors. In fact, He's often left doors open to the very things I thought I wanted.

How? How have I so consistently chosen against that which I so very desired?

Joy.

Somehow, at each step, when I was faced with what I wanted and what else was available, joy is what so often grounded me. This isn't always the case, and it isn't the case for two of the numbered examples above either. But it has so often been that indication of God's movement.

I remember when I was in high school, I imagined myself leaving everything behind, stepping into a canoe somewhere and seeing where it led me. I have lived in the hope of one day being able to do that in life without realizing I was in the darn canoe the whole time. How much I have feared and fretted and kept myself from living in the moment when the whole time I have been exactly where I have tearfully, fervently prayed and hoped to one day be.

I am here.

The phrase that keeps coming to mind to describe where I am now is that I feel as though I have accidentally stepped into a stream that is now carrying me.

Joy has been part of what has kept me in the stream. I have made some darn foolish decisions based on joy.

I chose to move to the inner-city, far away from anyone I knew. I chose to stay. I chose to leave the neighborhood I thought I was staying in Chicago for. I turned down acceptance to a fairly prestigious university - actually two. And an honors program and full-fledged scholarship (that I worked hard to get) to boot! I chose a degree that is unmarketable, especially for my gender. I chose to move to South Carolina without any sort of job security and I am still very aware of that fact.

But I am overwhelmed with joy. And I see God pulling together pieces from my past and piecing them together here now. Things that I had journaled that I wanted in my life, just days before I found out about the option to move here... Seeing those desires finding root here. Seeing my purpose in Mission Year being rediscovered in a non-urban environment. Seeing my love for singing and teaching finding homes.

Joy keeps me present in the moment. Joy keeps me united to God's heart and His purposes for me. Joy directs the way I live my life. The decisions I make sometimes that look stupid. I doubt sometimes. But then I find myself seized by a joy and an assurance that I am still in the canoe in the stream. And God keeps proving to me piece by piece that I am okay. And I can see for myself that I have ended up with a life that is better than the one I dreamed for myself. Not better in a worldly sense. But better nonetheless. And I praise God.

Being a Woman as a Follower of Christ in the World.

This blog is very different than usual. Its message (if one can dig through to find one) is not easily applicable, it is founded on generalizations which have often but not always been true in my life. It is simply a personal rant designed to help me process things and to help me not feel alone in experiencing what I'm experiencing. I do not claim that what is contained here is true always or that it should limit anyone in any way. I'm not even writing this to cause males to question how they interact with women.

If nothing else, I hope this entry, if any of you have accidentally stumbled into this hot mess, will allow you to step into another's shoes. My shoes. I know I am speaking very one-sidedly and entirely from my own experiences. I hope you can have grace with me and recognize that this is coming from a place of pain for me.
________________________________________________________
There was an incident the other day that infuriated me on a deep level. Seriously. My immediate prayer thereafter was *not* pretty. The incident itself will remain vague because it's not unique. If it was unique it might warrant explanation. But this incident is one of many just like it. In fact, this incident was milder than many/most others.  This time, though, the implications bothered me more than ever before.

This post is not about a woman's place in the church. I have plenty to say on that, but I'll spare you. For now. It bothers me that women aren't allowed a place in the church a lot of times, but I am far more bothered that a woman's place in the world as a Christ-follower is at stake.

The overall dynamic that I commonly experience, and what I believe it means, follows.

The Dynamic
 I belief in embodying a missional life. This means that I believe in loving people fully. It means engaging the world around me - followers of Jesus and not. It means not withholding who I am because who I am is a beautiful part of God's mission for the world at this time. It means interacting to cross barriers - barriers of race, religion, gender, politics, language, culture, etc. It means being fully present and acknowledging the full presence of the Other (who is distinct from me, yet in some weird way is like me).

Being a female in a cross-gender context like this is disastrous. Not always. But in my experience, often. Often the case is that after a moment of genuine connection/engagement is experienced, the language changes. The dynamic shifts. When this happens, my ability to do ministry (and by "do ministry", I literally and simply mean "engaging in a genuine/honest/authentic way with another") is undercut. The power shifts from a balance of two people interacting to one person usurping that power to change the dynamic.

To be less vague: I am talking about a shift to the romantic or lustful sort of thing. And "romantic" is putting a sweet spin on it. I get romantic attraction and there is nothing wrong with it. Lust to me has been wrongly defined often. I think lust is simply desiring something in a way that counteracts the good that is, was, or could have been in something. I think lust is a word of power or a claim to power. Or its a power that seizes and controls you. Something to that effect. Romantic attraction, done right, doesn't take power to lay claim to another person. THAT is the sort of dynamic I am referring to.

My Defense
Before I go into why it bother me so much, I need to set the record straight because inevitably people will want to harp on the whole "pearls to the swine" idea or the "guarding your heart" verse or the general concept of wisdom in a ministry/relational context, especially a multi-gender context. I'm not going to break down each one, though I could certainly try to do so.

All I will say on this is that the types of interactions I am describing are NOT ones in which I am being unwise. They are not ones in which I am being in any way flirtatious. They are not ones in which I am doing anything that any male would ever be accused of exercising poor judgment in. Which leads me to...

Why I Am Irate About This

1) The double standard
Because I am a female, I am aware of the double-standard in culture that is in place. It's in place everywhere you look. In the workplace, in physical/sexual relationships, in the porn industry, in the church, in the home, etc. It's a mess.

A man would never be accused of exercising poor judgement in the situations that I'm describing, whereas, because I am a female I have been accused of that or at the very least expect to be.

2) The one-sided power shift
I do not believe that in most situations a woman can usurp power from a man the way a man can from a woman. At least in the situations I am describing. In conversation. In relationship. The feelings that those dynamics evoke in me, because I am a female, are not simply annoyance or frustration. The feelings are those of fear (at worst) and belittlement (at best). 

Even when women take a lustful interest in a man that subverts his ability to relate in authentic communion/community with her, the woman still does not assert power over him the same way he could over her. It still demeans the fullness of who he is, but it does not render him unable to speak or interact with her the same way it does for a woman. And please hear me on this: It is just as wrong for a woman to relate in that way to a man as vice versa. I'm just saying that gender dynamics cause the effect in that dynamic to be different for women than for men.

3) The result this seems to have for me
Taking these things into account, it feels there are a few inevitable results.
1. I can expect to never be able to relate in an authentic way with a male without it being counteracted.
2. I can expect that because I have a gender which I didn't choose, that by nature of the twisted dynamics that often happen, my ability to impact the Kingdom of God will be limited - not because I am not stepping out on faith, but because when I do, another person has the ability to immediately quash its intent.
3. I can expect that because I am a woman, the most effective place of ministry I will have is a place where my being female doesn't matter (which mostly means roles where I am quiet and not interacting openly with males).
4. Therefore, the only places where my gender doesn't matter are places where my gender's stereotypes are strengthened and where I will never be able to be fully authentic.



Okay. I'm done. No neat wrap-up. I'm not actually all that cynical. I am just incredibly frustrated that this is what I have encountered again and again. Though I think those results I described can be encountered and can be contextually true, I do not believe they are True in the sense of the ultimate ethic of the Kingdom of God.

No. I will not sit back. I will not take the place that people occasionally try to put me in. I will not guard myself the way so many seem to think I should. In doing so, I am guarding the message that I believe to be True from those who desperately need to see it. I will live into what I believe is possible. I have relationships with males where the dynamic is right and good. I know it is possible.

I am just tired of questioning my place in the world as a woman who follows Jesus when so many men, that have never experienced this dynamic in the ways that I regularly have, have been the cause of it so much in my life.

It scares me that because of something I didn't choose, I will never be able to relate the way I feel created and called to relate to people in this world.

Jesus: Mary Poppins?

A few months ago I had my first real hit of a real "crowning moment". On the day that I graduated college, I was awarded with a medallion and the title of Valedictorian. My university doesn't tell the Valedictorian who he/she is until graduation day, when that person is awarded with a medallion. In May of 2012, just a few months ago, I was awarded with this honor.

I didn't really think much of it till others did. It was incredible the amount of support and congratulations I received. It meant more to my family I think than it meant to me. But it meant a lot to me that my family could be so blessed by it, and I was too.

Since  then, the moment of my highest honor/glory, has become one of the biggest sources of condemnation. In the quiet, doubtful moments of my graduate life, I look at what I have and what I am, at least from a worldly view, and I cannot believe that I was the Valedictorian.

I'm currently living with some amazing people, who have graciously accepted me into their home until I get on my feet. It's been 6 months since graduation and I'm still not there. I work 20 hours a week at not much more than minimum wage. At times when I feel a lot of pressure, I look at my bank account and I hear, "And you were the Valedictorian? And this is how you've ended up?" What had been a symbol of success has become the comparative image that declares my current state of utter defeat. Or so it seems.

I used to think of Jesus this way. I once wrote in my journal about how I thought of Jesus the way I thought of Mary Poppins. Anytime I read the gospel, I saw Mary Poppins.

He was a performer of miracles, who could have pulled a lamp out of a bag if he wanted. He did plenty of weirder things. And in my head, he most certainly had a tape measure exactly like the one she did.

"Jesus Christ: Practically perfect in every way"

And of course, anytime this measure was used for anyone else, like myself, it certainly would yield just as distasteful results as it did for the poor little younguns in the movie.

Jesus had become to me this divine measuring stick who walked the earth to show everyone they didn't measure up. Literally that was the exact sermon I was told again and again about the Sermon on the Mount.

I never had the fondest of feelings for Mary Poppins. I really didn't. She was unpredictable. Some moments she was fun-loving and cheerful. Others, she was irritable and she always had high, yet unclear, expectations of the children. And she was always, in her best and worst, absolutely full of herself.

I felt the same way about Jesus. I'd even had people tell me, "Jesus is the only person who could be full of himself and not be sinning. Because he is sinless, he can be full of himself because its him being full of righteousness." Philosophically there is an interesting argument there, but I think it falls flat to its face. I think its entirely false. Philosophically, if that's how pride worked: where it's sinful only if the person is sinful, it would be an interesting theory. A fun little thought excursion for nerds like me. 

It's interesting to me that Jesus seemed to me for so long to be a Divine Measuring Stick. He, who was supposed to be my very glory, had become, in my mind, the biggest source of condemnation. Everything I did became wrong in light of Jesus, this measuring stick. It's interesting to me to think that our understanding could be so perverted that our greatest glory and hope could seem to us to be the exact opposite.

For a minute I had thought that Jesus' death was the symbol of the Divine Measuring Stick being broken. At first glance that seems true. I mean, as someone I greatly respect reminds me, the Bible says that it wasn't simply our sins that were nailed to the cross, but actually the whole system of indebtedness was. That is true. Absolutely true.

But my previous conclusion, that Jesus as the symbol of the divine measuring stick being broken conveyed this truth, is absolutely incorrect. For this to be a fair reading of the gospel, Jesus would have to be set up as the divine measuring stick. And guess what. He never was set up to be that.

Was he sinless? There are debates, but I believe so. So was he perfect? In my beliefs yes. If so, could one set themselves up to Jesus to measure where they stand? One could try, but Jesus himself never uses this approach because it's not the right approach.

I'll close with one of the most faith-changing things someone has ever spoken to me.

I approached a close friend of mine a handful of years ago about my frustrations with God and my disbelief that I was really truly forgiven freely, when I had always believed I was forgiven begrudgingly.

I said to him, "Okay, listen. Let's say I came up to you every and asked for a pencil. Then I broke it every single day in front of your face. But every day I still ask for a new pencil. Would you still keep giving me the pencil? If you did, wouldn't you resent me for putting you in that position?"
He said, "Emily, He would take the pencil and break it himself because it's not about the pencil, it's about you and Him."

That changed me life. I don't say that lightly. We cannot allow Jesus, who has become our glory, for we are co-heirs with Christ, to become our source of shame and condemnation. He is not, was not, and will not be our measuring stick. He never set himself up that way. Don't put Jesus where he would not go himself.

Colossians 1:21-23
Once you were alienated from God and were enemies in your minds because of your evil behavior. But now he has reconciled you by Christ’s physical body through death to present you holy in his sight, without blemish and free from accusation— if you continue in your faith, established and firm, not moved from the hope held out in the gospel.