Worthy, redeemed, and onward; with courage and gratitude.

By J. Basil Dannebohm

Someone recently referred to me as a "disrupter of the peace." The words were intended as an insult from a frustrated friend.

To that end, they were successful.

Feeling a bit defeated lately, I've been licking the wounds that pierced my admittedly thin skin. Then, another friend of mine who is a religious sister sent me a message:

"I think it is true that you are a disrupter -- of the status quo -- of a Congress that will not claim their own power and challenge Powers that abuse the powerless -- of a Church that has been silent regarding abuse -- and the list goes on and on. It seems disrupter is part of your vocation/career. There is a long list of disrupters in history. Some the churches have declared saints."

Her words were balm for a wounded and weary soul.

In elementary school and college, the very religious congregation that sister belongs to taught me well. They instilled in me the profound understanding that everyone is worthy of, and redeemed by the Blood of Christ. From my youth, I was "radicalized" by basic decency.

For her words, her friendship, her congregation, and her witness, I am grateful.

Over the years, being a voice for the voiceless has come at a cost. I've been accused, used, abused, shamed, defamed, and degraded.

It's all been worth it. I tend to believe that comforting the afflicted and afflicting the comfortable is, indeed, my calling. I've grown accustomed to the perpetual target on my back. Granted, I'm by no means a saint. Still, I will walk through hell and back in defense of my convictions and especially for "the least of these."

In a 1902 statement of purpose, Upton Sinclair wrote:

"I intend to do what little one man can do to awaken the public conscience, and in the meantime I am not frightened by your menaces. I am not a giant physically; I shrink from pain and filth and vermin and foul air, like any other man of refinement; also, I freely admit, when I see a line of a hundred policemen with drawn revolvers flung across a street to keep anyone from coming onto private property to hear my feeble voice, I am somewhat disturbed in my nerves. But I have a conscience and a religious faith, and I know that our liberties were not won without suffering, and may be lost again through our cowardice. I intend to do my duty to my country."

I feel that with every fiber of my being. Hence, I pick myself up and keep going.

As the founder of that community of sisters so dear to me often said in closing her letters, "Courage."

Worthy, redeemed, and onward; with courage and gratitude.