This is the best sign I’ve ever seen.
This is amazing.
Church Members Mistreat Homeless Man in Church, Unaware It Is Their Pastor in Disguise.
"Pastor Jeremiah Steepek transformed himself into a homeless person and went to the 10,000 member church that he was to be introduced as the head pastor at that morning.
He walked around his soon to be church for 30 minutes while it was filling with people for service, only 3 people out of the 7-10,000 people said hello to him.
He asked people for change to buy food – no one in the church gave him change.
He went into the sanctuary to sit down in the front of the church and was asked by the ushers if he would please sit in the back.
He greeted people to be greeted back with stares and dirty looks, with people looking down on him and judging him.
As he sat in the back of the church, he listened to the church announcements and such.
When all that was done, the elders went up and were excited to introduce the new pastor of the church to the congregation.
“We would like to introduce to you Pastor Jeremiah Steepek.” The congregation looked around clapping with joy and anticipation.
The homeless man sitting in the back stood up and started walking down the aisle. The clapping stopped with all eyes on him.
He walked up the altar and took the microphone from the elders (who were in on this) and paused for a moment then he recited,
“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world.
“For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
‘The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’
After he recited this, he looked towards the congregation and told them all what he had experienced that morning. Many began to cry and many heads were bowed in shame.
He then said, “Today I see a gathering of people, not a church of Jesus Christ. The world has enough people, but not enough disciples. When will YOU decide to become disciples?”
He then dismissed service until next week.
Following in the footsteps of Jesus Christ should be more than just talk. It ought to be a lifestyle that others around you can love about you and share in.”
Be a Christian all you want, but at least follow the teachings of Christ if you’re going to claim the title.
I’m not a Christian but I have a massive respect for those who truly follow the creed of love thy neighbor. Major props- this pastor has balls.
this is fantastic
The Workers are Talking
By Diego Rivera: Detail from the murals on the walls of the Detroit Institute of the Arts, currently on the bankruptcy chopping block as an asset owned by the city of Detroit. Rivera, comic books, and the workers of the world have much to say to each other. Photograph by the blogger. Comic book image by Carl Burgos, 1941.
27/50 Stunning Cinematography → The Tree of Life (2011)
We are not so different.
I love this, we are all just occupying different forms
Find out more about Transgender Day of Remembrance at www.transgenderdor.org
See the list of people who died because of anti-transgender violence in 2012.
Or a playstation or a flat screen TV or a newer car, etc and etc. I know people that work under the table for half their pay and get paid on the books for the rest and collect welfare. I know of drug dealers that collect for tax purposes even though they pull in thousands of untaxed money each month dealing. Tell me how I am not supposed to be upset with these people like I am with greedy corporate cronies? I’m not heartless. These people are selfish and unethical.
Except not everyone who has nice things is automatically cheating the system. People are given things as gifts. People buy things and THEN qualify for assistance. People save up for nice things.
You can’t assume what someone’s situation is just by what they own.
We were eating only donated Panera bread, rice, and turnips. My father was sneaking to the various blood banks in town to sell his plasma at twice the rate they allow. My mother was dying due to not having her medicine, which cost well over $1,200 a month after insurance.
My autistic baby brother wanted to do something nice for me.
He worked for months making custom art pieces to sell. He worked up courage despite crippling social anxiety and speech problems to ask the neighbors if he could do chores for them to earn more money - raking the yard, helping clean their house, walking their dogs.
For nine months he carefully hoarded his money in a jar in his bedroom. He counted it every single night and compared it to the cost of what he wanted to get for me for Christmas.
Finally he had enough. He bought me a DS Lite and a pokemon game.
He was so happy.
Until one of our neighbors, a highly conservative jackass, saw me with it outside a couple weeks later. My brother was with me.
The neighbor stormed up and became screaming at us, a pair of teenagers, over how we could be so selfish to spend money on “electronic shit” when we were a family on food stamps. Spittle flying from his lips, cuss words every other second, rage radiating off of him so violently that our father came running out of the house - at a limp, since his spine is broken, which causes him horrific daily pain beyond what I can imagine - to protect us.
My brother was never the same again. There is no happy ending here. That episode in his life changed him permanently and for the past seven years he has almost never left his room and never gone to a friend’s house. He is terrified of the neighbors and believes he is a bad person.
Because of fucking people like you OP.
Because of fuckers who believe that they know what life is like for everyone and have a right to judge.
So fuck you OP. If you know drug dealers, report them, go on and put your ass on the line then. But for fuck’s sake don’t you dare thing you understand what goes on in the life of the people who live in never-ending, grinding poverty. Because you have *no fucking clue* what goes on in the detailed lives of others.
You want to talk selfish? Look in the fucking mirror.
This is an important post.
that time Bill O Reily was shocked and appalled that poor people could afford *gasp* A TV AND A FRIDGE IN THEIR APT?
and went on a rant saying these ppl shouldn’t be on welfare because they have a plasma tv and fridge because obviously poor people need to not have tvs and fridge because poor ppl should be storing their food underground in holes and draw on walls with stones and sticks for entertainment.
When I was a child on welfare, eating rotten lunch meat, walking in shoes with cardboard in the bottoms to cover the holes, I had an extensive collection of My Little Ponies. Not “one or two horses”; over three hundred, all told, and almost all the major playsets. Maybe, oh, 10% of the total came from my mother, over the course of the eight years I spent collecting and living with her. The rest were gifts from family members who didn’t know about our situation, but knew from Gramma’s chatty “everything is fine” letters that I loved My Little Pony. They were from the charity groups that let you sign up and specify what your children wanted for Christmas. They were from me saving every penny I found on the street. They were from favorite teachers who knew how poor we were, who wanted me to have birthday happiness. We’re talking thousands of dollars of plastic horses, almost none of which took a dime from Mom’s budget. And the ones that did? She was a mother trying not to break her daughter’s heart.
Every time someone yelled at us because poor people shouldn’t have nice things, we all died a little inside, and I clutched my horses even harder. I needed something bright and beautiful in the world, to make up for the roaches in the walls and the mold growing on the butter.
Unless you’re someone’s accountant, you don’t know where they’re putting their money, and it’s not your place to judge.
We had the internet and a brand new computer in a time when very few people had the internet, and only a fraction of my classmates had access to a computer. It didn’t matter that ours were paid for by the university to help my mother get through college and get a job faster, so she could earn a livable wage and support her children on her own. It didn’t matter that we weren’t on food stamps or welfare, though we certainly qualified for both.
Everyone wanted to know - parents of the other children in my class actually asked me - how we could justify having it with how poor we were. People felt entitled to ask why we would have it, what possessed us to think it was a good idea, because we were poor. And they felt absolutely justified in telling us, repeatedly, how irresponsible it was, how poor we were, how unreasonable they thought it looked, what sort of message we were sending by daring to have one nice thing.
They didn’t care that we didn’t have new winter coats, or shoes without holes in them, or food in our cupboards. They didn’t care that we missed school field trips because we couldn’t afford them, or that we picked rotten spots off the top of pudding and ate it, and only turned the heat on when the temperature fell below zero, because we couldn’t afford to even be warm all the time. They did not care about what we didn’t have.
They cared that we had a nice thing - that we had had ONE nice thing - and they resented it.
I have many nice things now. I have new shoes, and a nice winter coat, and I have an education, a college degree. But I still feel, and I think anyone who has been very poor will always still feel, like any second someone is going to come over and demand to know how I justify having even one nice thing, let alone several.
Why are some people so obsessed with punishing poor people for not looking poor enough?
I love this image so much.
I’ve seen some women who are offended by this and say it’s ridiculous that her cleavage is showing and things of that sort.
Personally, I think it’s great.
Why should we have an image of a women with her hair tied up and flexing her muscles like she’s a man? (not that that isn’t great too!) In a way it suggests that when our hair is down, our breasts are visible and we wear (GASP) lipstick, we’re somehow lesser than men? We can do it! We can be feminine and successful.
You see what I’m saying here, ladies?
You don’t have to lose your femininity. Being feminine is great. Being masculine is great. Strength is not limited to one way of being.
oh my fucking god, this again
Have you even looked at the actual Rosie the Riveter poster lately?
She’s ALREADY WEARING LIPSTICK. AND MASCARA. AND BLUSH. Her eyebrows have been PENCILED AND TWEEZED. And underneath her work bandana? HER HAIR HAS BEEN CURLED. Rosie the Riveter is a beautiful woman. This image in no way implies that wearing feminine apparel (like cosmetics) is a negative thing.
The reason that she has her hair up and her shirt buttoned and is flexing her arms has nothing to do with prudery, or with trying to be “masculine” (as if shows of physical strength are unique to one gender). It has to do with the information at the bottom of the poster: Rosie is involved in war production. That means doing hard physical labor in a 1940s factory, where large heavy machinery can easily snag a loose lock of hair, or a bit of jewelry, or an undone button. “Makeover” Rosie would not be able to do the real Rosie’s job without serious risk of injury to herself or the people around her. In that sense, the new poster is implying that no, women are NOT capable of doing the same work as men, because they are too weak/vain/self-absorbed/whatever. The old poster is saying that, while still being feminine, women are just as capable of doing the same work as men.
Also? The new and “improved” Rosie was specifically drawn to be ANTI-FEMINIST. “[William Murai] created this image for the Brazilian Alfa Magazine to accompany an article about the End of Feminism. 'The idea was to remake the famous feminism symbol “Rosie the Riveter” [into] a lady who is giving up on her duties and trying to look sexy again.’” (emphasis mine)
Giving up her duties and trying to look sexy? For whom, exactly? According to the artist (and the patriarchy), men. In other words, quit your job, look hot, find a man, gb2 the kitchen, and make me a sandwich, bitch. Also known as THE SAME TIRED-ASS SHIT WOMEN HEAR EVERY. FUCKING. DAY.
The new poster is not “progress.” It is not about women being “feminine and successful.” It’s about the exact opposite: women being reduced to their appearance and their sex appeal according to the standards imposed by the male gaze. She is pretty, but that’s all she is, because that’s all women are supposed to be. The real Rosie (you know, the feminist icon?) is beautiful, and feminine, and strong enough to do the work necessary to keep her country safe, just the same as any man. Her worth is not in her appeal as a decorative object, but in the product of her labor and her own awareness of her abilities.
Rosie the Riveter. Accept NO substitutes.