Category: Love

Gaza

I find myself looking away, hardening myself to the pain. And yet I know that you, gracious God, do not turn away. You grieve. We see in the cross of Christ that you unite yourself to our suffering, to the suffering of our world. So, I draw near to you.

You see how we build rationales for ourselves, for the pain we inflict. We say it cannot be helped. An eye for an eye, a life for a life. But we do not even limit ourselves to that; we justify taking many more lives. We decide it is right to take life indiscriminately. We take our pain and we pour out pain.

And many of us look on and say it cannot be helped. We live by the sword and die by the sword. We have got ourselves into a vicious cycle of pain and death. And cannot free ourselves.

We cannot see it otherwise. Hamas must be stamped out. But even if Hamas were to be stamped out, something else similar would arise. And we would choose to operate in the same way toward that. We would fight pain with pain, death with death, destruction with destruction. We choose death over life, hate over love.

How is it possible to love your enemy, when your enemy is so ruthless and brutal? So, we choose the enemies we will love, maybe someone who briefly slights us. But you, gracious God, do not make such distinctions. We see that in the cross of Christ who took on our sin and suffering and prayed, “Father forgive them for they do not know what they do.” We still do not know what we do.

So you let us, prodigal sons and daughters, go off to the far country until we come to ourselves. What does it take to come to ourselves? How bad must our mess become, before we say, “I will return to my Father?”

I live in a nation that amasses great amounts of sophisticated weaponry and then spreads it around the world. We not only support our own killing but the killing others do. We believe in killing. We are committed to war as a solution. We call our blindness, reality.

Gracious God, help us. Give us eyes to see and ears to hear. Give us ears to hear the cries of the people of Gaza. Help us not to look away from their suffering or that of the families of the slain in Israel. Help us to take their pain and ours to you.

Where else can we take it? If we do not bring our pain to you, we will take it out on others, pain upon pain.

Help me, help us, gracious God, to not harden ourselves. Help us not to simply guard ourselves from the hurt and pain, but to come to you with it and to be witnesses to your love which is the only reality that overcomes evil.

Gracious God help us. Have mercy on us. Turn our hearts to you; turn our hearts to love.

Filed under: Death, Love, Prayer, WarTagged with: , , , ,

Christmas Reflections 2023

At Christmas, those of us who find our center in Christ celebrate our humanity. We celebrate our true humanity in union with God. Traditionally we have used the term “incarnation” to speak of this union: God revealed in the flesh; God among us and in us.

St. Paul writes of the glory of God in the face of Christ and of Christ as the image of God. With these words, he connects Christ to the story of creation in the book of Genesis, where we are told that humanity is created in the image of God.

Humanity, when it is being true to itself, is the expression of the God who is love. Our true humanity manifests love, compassion, mercy, justice. It reveals God’s love.

The attraction that brought crowds out to Jesus was the love of God that shone in his life as he reached out with compassion to heal and to liberate. Jesus said he did not come into the world to condemn the world but to seek and to save the lost. And that is what we see in him. He came in humility and openness to hurting human beings joining himself to the suffering of others, even to the point of death on a cross.

What we see in Christ is our true humanity as the expression of God who is love. We have needed to see this example of humanity, because we see, in ourselves and others, much that is false to our humanity. We see our inhumanity, the ways we put down others and operate with arrogance and selfishness, passing on the other side of the road when encountering one who has fallen, hurt and broken.

In Christ, we come to participate in our true humanity, for we experience our relationship with God. In Christ, we come to trust God. Christ’s faith becomes ours. Christ’s love and hope become ours. In Christ, the way into union with God is open.

In a world at war, divided, torn apart by our inhumanity toward one another, the words of the angel to the shepherds in the field speak to all who have ears to hear: “Do not be afraid, for see, I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Anointed One, the Lord.”

Therefore, many of us join the shepherds watching over sheep at that first Christmas; we join with them and the angels in rejoicing and giving glory to God.

Filed under: Humanity, Love, Praise, SpiritualityTagged with: ,

Ethnonationalist Christianity

In 1932, a year prior to Hitler becoming chancellor, Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote a letter to his grandmother in which he gave expression to the coming struggle:

It is becoming increasingly clear to me that what we are going to get is a big, völkisch [ethnic] national church that in its essence can no longer be reconciled with Christianity, and that we must make up our minds to take entirely new paths and follow where they lead. The issue is really Germanism or Christianity, and the sooner the conflict comes out in the open, the better. The greatest danger of all would be in trying to conceal this.

Bonhoeffer, Theological Education, 11

We, who are Christ people in the United States of America, face the same danger Bonhoeffer pointed to, a danger that has long been with us. The issue is Americanism or Christianity, idolatry of nation or worship of the “living and true God” (A phrase St. Paul used to contrast the worship of God to the idolatry of ourselves and our imaginings (our false and therefore dead gods). This issue has been especially true of a White American Christianity with its roots in European American religous history entangled with the establishment of a nation. One of the the outgrowths of this entanglement has been an ethnic nationalism in Christian garb. Beyond the American experience, to one degree or another, the history of Christianity has been a history of ethnonationalism.

In our idolatry of nation, we confuse and subjugate a form of Christianity to nationalist values and agendas. Historically, this has meant that scripture and Christian rationales have been used to support all manner of national decisions and positions: establishment of slavery, removal of indigenous peoples from their land, going to war, who can vote, etc.

A Christianity, subordinate to nationalist ideas, ends up with a distorted usage of its own concepts. As an example, Christians have often mixed American notions of liberty with Christianity. What does it mean, after all, that “if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.” The clear meaning of the New Testament is that we are freed to love. In Christ, we are being freed from arrogance and egotism, so that we can experience and live out the unconditional love of God.

Freedom in Christ is not “freedom to do our own thing” in the sense of operating out of our attitudes, prejudices, lusts, and misplaced values. It is the freedom of the love of God which moves us out to others. Among other things, it moves us to care about the freedom of others to live out their own callings and purposes. This liberating love brings healing and deliverance to individuals and societies. It is about compassion (which means to “suffer with”) and mercy (which makes us available to the needs of others).

This unconditional love of God does not bully others. There is no looking for a political “strong man” to side with us. This love has us operating in quite the opposite way, as in St. Paul’s words, this love “is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable; it keeps no record of wrongs; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing but rejoices in the truth (1 Corinthians 13:4-6).”

This love does not judge and condemn others. Jesus, “God’s Anointed,” said he did not come into the world to condemn but to seek and to rescue the lost. He comes revealing God’s love for all.

A Christianity that worries over its own rights rather than the rights of others and seeks a dominant place in society that excludes others is not the Christianity of Christ. It is not expressive of Christ who goes out to all and ministers to all in whatever condition he finds them.

It is hard to imagine that Christ sought to have followers who would spend time trying to secure positions for themselves from which they could dominate and silence the voices of others. And yet this is the way of an ethnonationalist Christianity, for it simply borrows from the ways of a nation with a White supremacist history. Of course, it often does so without recognizing or acknowledging it. Sin incorporates blindness; it chooses blindness.

Far from having a special position and recognition in the world, Jesus let his followers know that (when they are truly following him) they would experience many trials from a world that runs from the God who is Love, a world that forms into clicks, parties, nations, and alliances that prepare for war. In the New Testament, Christians are called out of this kind of world and way of operating.

A Christianity that seeks dominance in the world joins itself to the way the world operates. It takes on the idolatries of the world and its nations. It loses spiritual discernment and therefore loses a witness to Christ. It ends up witnessing to the power of egotism and bullying. It gloats in having supremacy over others rather than serving others. And it adds to the divisions. Rather than, in Bonhoeffer’s words, being a “people for others,” it becomes a people for itself, its religion, and underlying that, its ethnicity.

There clearly is a conflict between an ethnonationalist Christianity and a Christian identity that is being formed in Christ. Growing “in Christ” increasingly frees us from the idolatry of nation, ethnicity and dominance. It frees us to serve others across all self-serving, fear-creating boundaries, for we have entered a life, in Christ, which chooses love over hate, mercy over judgment, peace over war.

Furthermore, in Christ, we have come to acknowledge our broken condition, a condition we share with all humanity. As we grow in this knowledge, we realize we are in no position to be self-righteous and condemning of others.

We also know that nothing about this radical brokenness we experience changes without the transforming grace and mercy of God and that, while we undergo a spiritual conversion, we remain broken. We are on a path of being healed with the knowledge that God is not through with us.

We also recognize others who are undergoing this foundational change and spiritual reorientation. We join with them that we might grow in this reality together. (Some may have no explicit relationship to Christianity whose encountered forms they may have had good reason to flee, but who nevertheless experience the “Christ reality” of “letting go” and trusting themselves to grace and love.)

With this change in our lives and knowing the source of the change, we realize that we must acknowledge and witness against a false Christianity—one we may have been caught up in. We must confess the sin of an idolatrous White supremacist and nationalist Christianity. In Christ, we are coming to know it by its fruit. And, in Christ, there is forgiveness and a new way to walk in.

We must bear witness against this false Christianity, not only for the sake of those who know little or nothing of the Christ reality, but for the sake of those who have come to be in Christ, but who are attached to churches that have radically melded together a form of Christianity with an idolatry of nation and race.

We encourage siblings in Christ, in the nationalist churches of our land, to exercise discernment regarding their church leaders. They will know them by their fruit (which includes their messages). The Spirit will help them recognize what is of Christ and what is not. The Spirit will help them to recognize what messages appeal to their own idolatries and what messages liberate them from their idols. We are all responsible for exercising discernment empowered by the Spirit.

We must discern and then give witness to what God reveals to us.

Filed under: Love, Spirituality, WitnessTagged with: ,

Unattractive Religion

Unattractive Religion Type 1: Repulsed by what is false.

There is much religion that must be fled, if we care about reality. It is one of the reasons many leave churches. They do not find truth there. They do not find life-giving reality. They do not experience the reality of love—a love that is welcoming and supportive and includes all.

Some are repulsed by a church’s bondage to dogmatism and legalism, by the central place given to doctrines, principles, and morals, and the roles that categories play in defining its members. They feel that the experience of humanity’s depth is missing, the experience of the Spirit, of Holy Mystery, and of grace and freedom.

There are many who are repulsed by the eroding of Christian experience by that which is foreign to the Christ reality. There is something terribly false about a White nationalist Christianity that makes an idol of nation and whiteness, or a prosperity Christianity that displaces the will of God with our prosperity. There is something critically false about a legalistic Christianity that has left grace and mercy behind in judging and condemning others.

Many global religious traditions began with an enlightenment or revelation or experience of Holy Mystery that opened, freed, and deepened our humanity. Their beginnings were like a spring of fresh, inviting water bubbling up on the side of a mountain, fresh at its source, but then picking up various debris as it traveled down the mountain side.

It did not take Christianity long to pick up ingredients foreign to its beginnings, becoming conformed to cultural and political values, taking on forms of “worldly” power and dominance, making its doctrines the thing that had to be protected—even by violence, rather than (with Christ) losing its life for the sake of the world. Early on, in the New Testament and with Jesus, there were warnings about false prophets and false religion.

What is true for Christianity has been true for other religions as well, at times with horrific results: Religion becoming simply a mask for evil.

As with other religious traditions, Christianity can be critiqued from within its own tradition. Simply go back to the source, the fresh spring. From the source we begin to recognize the debris that has accumulated over time. We discern what about our Christianity has simply become a cover for our cultural commitments and values instead of being the spiritual reality that critiques our ways of operating in the world and restores us to our true humanity.

Jesus speaks to the heart of his movement when he says that others will know his followers by their love, which he calls the central commandment: Love God above all things and love your neighbor as yourself.

When we move away from this reality, repulsion to what we have become can be the beginning of coming back to what is true.

Unattractive Religion Type 2: Repulsed by what is true.

Jesus said, “The truth will set you free.” But there is that, in us, which runs from the truth, especially inward truth which will have us facing up to what is false in us, false to our true humanity created in the image of God who is Love.

Jesus called us to a recentering of our lives which involves the relinquishing of ourselves to God. Jesus said, “Lose your life and you will find it.” His was a call to trust the whole of ourselves to Holy Mystery. All true religion calls us to let go of our lives in order to find ourselves.

Our egocentric selves revolt against this “letting go.” Our egocentric values revolt. What we have built of our lives apart from God, revolts. Our false self wants to hold on to what it has been building and therefore is repulsed by anything that would take its place. Our false self refuses to recognize a self created in the image of God for love.

Our false self is repulsed by what is implied of such a true self, a self that loves enemies, forgives those who persecute us, loves those who hate us instead of hating them back, a self that relinquishes its idols (the centering of its life around its own control, power, pleasure, riches; its own nation, people, and political party).

People were repulsed by Jesus because he spoke truth to power—to self-centered power. He told his followers that they could expect the same repulsion from others and be blessed for it. He said, “Blessed are those who are persecuted for the sake of justice.”

It is no wonder that we will craft a religion of our own making, one that fits our idolatries and values. Repulsed by the truth and desiring a god who is on the side of our idols, we make for ourselves a religion that our false ways can be comfortable with.

Or we decide it is simply easier to have no religion or at least one that does not need a god. (Atheism can be such a religion.)

Being repulsed by what is false in religion opens the possibility of being open to what is true. Being repulsed by what is true calls for a turn to the truth wherever it is found, but especially to the truth of ourselves, the truth of our inward reality.

The Spirit will help us come to the truth of ourselves, so that we distinguish the false from the real through the relinquishing of our lives to the Source of all reality. Jesus tells us that if we continue in the truth, the “truth will set us free.” We will be on a journey of getting real.

Filed under: Humanity, Love, SpiritualityTagged with:

Martin Luther King On Love Over Hate

I read a column in the Washington Post entitled, Hug an election denier. It was a gentle call to see the humanity in the person you believe has left reality behind and has embraced ways of thinking and operating that undermine our society. Given the nature of the article, it mainly addresses “moderates” and “progressives.”

The comments of readers of the article were revealing: Many who see themselves as progressives are not particularly progressive when it comes to seeing the humanity in those they labeled fascists or simply saw as gullible. While the right may tend to demonize the left, many on the left (who tend not to believe in demons) make the right out to be crazy or mentally deranged.

There were, however, also comments from those who understood the importance of loving others no matter their beliefs, actions, or conditions. One commenter quoted Dr. Martin Luther King Jr: “Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”

These words come from a Christmas sermon in 1957. Here is a fuller quote:

Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. Hate multiplies hate, violence multiplies violence, and toughness multiplies toughness in a descending spiral of destruction. So when Jesus says, “love your enemies,” he is setting forth a profound and ultimately inescapable admonition. Have we not come to such an impasse in the modern world that we must love our enemies—or else? The chain reaction of evil—hate begetting hate, wars producing more wars—must be broken, or we shall be plunged into the dark abyss of annihilation.

Pastor King knew something of what is required of us to “love our enemies.” He lived it, and we saw the power of people marching out of prayer meetings into the streets to face dogs and fire hoses and beatings and jail, and even death. We also witnessed change come to our society.

I recall John Lewis, in his book, Walking with the Wind: A Memoir of the Movement, writing of his experience on the first freedom ride when he was hauled off the bus and beaten. A police officer asked him if he wanted to press charges against the man who beat him. Lewis said something to the effect that the man who beat him was a victim of and a part of a system. Lewis was fighting the system. So, no, he was not pressing charges; he was getting back on the bus in order to bring down the Jim Crow system.

For John Lewis, love was central. He was attracted to the non-violent nature of the movement because it provided a way for love to act to bring about real change. Love allowed him to see the humanity in those who opposed his freedom. He was able to see beyond what they were caught up in. He was able to see what they could be if they let go of and were liberated from their racism.

Along the same vein, Frederick Douglass wrote of how the slaveholder also was a victim. His slave-holding robbed him of his humanity, robbed him of compassion and the ability to love; it deteriorated all his relationships. Abolish slavery and both slave and slaveholder are set free. At least, the slaveholder has the possibility of freedom, if he embraces it rather than seeks to reinstate slavery under other names.

“Love of enemies” is a spiritual reality. It comes from God who loves a broken, hurting, alienated humanity, a humanity that has made itself enemies of God, enemies of Love. We hear this love in the words of Jesus on the cross, “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.” This love forgives; it looks beyond faults and sees needs. It changes the trajectory of our lives.

This love is a gift from God. It is grace. We can open our lives to it and be changed by it. The apostle Paul says it is the greatest gift. “Faith, hope, love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.”

Filed under: Justice, Liberation, LoveTagged with: , , ,

A Spirituality for Ending Gun Violence

You do not need guns. It is possible to live without them. And yet you are very possessive of your guns. You feel that you cannot give them up. But that is an addiction, a false dependency. As an addiction, it looms large in your life. It constrains you to give yourself reasons why guns are necessary and to fight for your right to own the guns of your choice. But you do not need guns; you need a Higher Power.

We can live without the second amendment. Other nations do. It has not made us a better or more exceptional nation because we have it. We can live without it; we cannot live without Love.

Our children can grow and flourish without guns and without violent video games and entertainment; they cannot grow and flourish without Compassionate Love.

Weapons of war will never secure us. They have only added to our insecurity, whereas, the One in whose image we are created holds our lives together, even in the midst of trial and tribulation. Rooted in God, our true center, we find that, rather than live in fear of others, we can enter into the suffering of others in order to serve them in love—even in the face of death.

By the love of God, we can grieve with those who grieve. We can grieve in a way that is true to grief, to the way the Spirit of God grieves. We can grieve with compassion that engages others, not with platitudes, but with repentance and change that moves toward healing.

Love constrains us to act. It will have us act in concrete ways that align with true needs. Love does not pit one addiction against another. Love does not pit one kind of politics against another, one ideology against another, one set of beliefs against another. Love responds to the needs present in a way that is timely and real.

With the love of God, we are freed from trying to force others to conform to our way of thinking (or to our addictions). As St. Paul says, “Love does not insist on its own way.” Love does not have us fighting others over beliefs and values as if they too were addictions that we cannot live without. Rather, love will simply direct us to the actual needs of the moment and will have us work for true life-giving change.

The change we desire for our nation, the end of the stream of mass shootings, will make little progress without the relinquishing of our addictions, our political tribalism, and our insistence on having our own way—surrendering these (and ourselves) to the God who is Love. Let love act! Do what love directs us to do!

Filed under: Healing, Love, SocietyTagged with: , ,

Nothing Has Changed For Faith

Joe Biden replacing Donald Trump as president of the United States is a welcome change for many of us. But nothing has changed for faith. We expect a positive change in the rhetoric coming from the White House, the treatment of children arriving at our southern border, and the policies addressing the disparities in our nation. These changes, of course, will be relative to what has gone before and what is envisioned for our future. Many of us will be disappointed by the smallness of these actions. Which is why it is important to recognize that nothing has changed for faith—for faith in God and the actions flowing from faith.

The trusting relinquishment of our lives to God keeps us rooted in and growing in love and reality, whatever may come. Dependence on God for our very being sustains and grows our vision. Our ultimate dependence is not on a particular form of government or political party or president or congress but on God and God’s reign. By faith, all governments and all who govern are critiqued by God’s ways of governing. All actions are seen against the backdrop of God’s reign where the servant is leader, the last first, and the humble exalted. Nothing has changed for faith. God has always been the all in all, whatever the circumstances. When we have been anxious about our circumstances (a pandemic and a president), it has been faith that has kept us and will keep us, whatever we face. By faith, we have found that we can cast our anxieties on God who cares for us, sustains us, and guides us through it all.

Nothing has changed for the changeless center of all things. Faith, hope, and love abide. By faith in God, we see visions and dream dreams. By hope, we stretch out for the realization of those visions and dreams. By the unconditional love of God, we are enabled to act. The love of God poured into our hearts by the Spirit gives us the actions that are true to our humanity made in the image of God and to the visions of the Spirit. This love is merciful and forgiving; it sees beyond ours and others’ faults. It does not judge, nor is it demeaning toward others but rather is manifest in works of healing and deliverance, justice and peace.

By faith, we are clear-eyed about the corruption of humanity, the self-absorbed divisiveness, enmity, greed, and lust, the self-inturned ways of a broken humanity. By faith, therefore, we are not given to magical thinking, no matter how sophisticated and intellectual. We are not into ideologies or rational programs for fixing things. We know that our fundamental problem is spiritual. Jesus’ good news remains the answer: “Repent and have faith, for the reign of God is near.” “Turn to God, who is the source of your life, and surrender your life to God’s reign.”

Nothing has changed for faith. An election has not changed our fundamental problem, nor its solution. We need God. We need to be centered in the One who is the center of all things. Nothing else will solve our divisions. Every division has a wrong center. In God, we live and move and have our being. Trust in God frees us to truly embrace each other.

Nothing has changed for faith. Faith in God continues to look to a future beyond our brief history. It reaches out for the end and goal of history in Christ, who is our true humanity in union with God. In its stretching out, faith works through love with the goal in mind: All things will be made new in “a new heaven and a new earth,” all finding their home with God.

Filed under: Faith, Love, SpiritualityTagged with: , ,

Gifts In A Time of Pandemics: Anger

Anger follows hurt. We experience pain, then anger. We expect fairness. We expect welcome rather than rejection. We expect to be seen, to be acknowledged, and our basic needs recognized and affirmed. We expect our lives to be valued. Our humanity expects these things. At the heart of all these expectations, we expect love—to be loved and to love. From love flows mercy, justice, and faithfulness. Our humanity is trampled upon when these are not present. And we respond with anger and a desire and a need for what is wrong to be made right, that “justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.” We cannot go on under conditions devoid of justice without taking action.

When Jesus came into the temple, he saw the injustice. He saw that what was meant to be a house of prayer had become a “den of robbers.” In anger, he made a “whip of cords” (John 2:15) and “drove out all who were selling and buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves.” (Matthew 21:12-13) In the streets of our cities, police cars have been overturned.

We learn what replaced the selling and the buying and the money changers, in the next verse (Matthew 21:14): “The blind and the lame came to Jesus in the temple, and he cured them.” Envision for our present moment: Police violence against black and brown bodies replaced by acts of healing.

Anger, of course, can simply lash out and accomplish little more than additional pain. And those on the outside of the pain can simply judge its futility. But if the pain underneath the anger is received with compassion (rather than with judgment and self-righteousness) healing is available. I think of the judgment that gets directed at looters and those who damage property when openness to the pain would provide another view. (Take a step toward being open and the help for being open will be there because the Spirit of God is about opening our hearts and giving us eyes to see.) Rather than simply seeing the destructive behavior of individuals, we will see a society that has been crafted and structured by white supremacy and racism, from slavery to Jim Crow to the present “new Jim Crow.” We, who are white, will see our racism rather than be fixated on broken store windows. We will see the racism and greed and indifference that have historically robbed people of ownership within our society, disenfranchised them, cut off opportunity, brought death, and provided a framework within which destructive action makes sense. I saw a video clip of a couple of protesters, seeing a man with a bat in front of a store window, go over to the man and gently lead him away from the action he was contemplating, and then put their arms around him in an act of understanding and solidarity. Compassion has an altogether different mode of operation from that of self-righteous judgment.

When compassion responds to and takes up misdirected anger and redirects it, healing and liberation happen. A little compassion, like a little faith that can move mountains, is powerful. God is in it.

Love can use anger in powerful and purposeful ways. It can help focus on and target what needs to be addressed. Anger is a strong and urgent emotion carrying within it the pain from which it arises, and harnessed by compassion zeros in on the present moment with imperativeness. It takes what love clarifies and gives it emotional urgency. Love—caring enough to attend to the depth of the problem and to gain knowledge—gives rise to solutions. Anger presses us with “why we cannot wait” for the solutions. Change must come now! Jesus saw the temple turned into a den of robbers and immediately acted.

A police force (along with carefully manufactured laws) that historically has been used to “dominate” (using our president’s term) black lives, must be dismantled. It needs to be replaced with that which can truly serve. I am grateful for those who have been rethinking what makes for public safety, who are “dreaming dreams and seeing visions” for something radically different from what we have now. “Defund the police” puts before us, with urgency, the kind of change that must happen: Defund the present police organizations with their militarization and their “us against them” mentality and their opposition to reform. Funds freed up by decreasing police functions become funds for social services, mental health care and housing for the homeless (rather than have police break up their encampments), treatment (rather than criminalization) for those with addictions, and health care, education, job training, community organizations, and community mediation. My local grocery store was one of the few grocery stores on the southeast side of Chicago that was not looted. It was not the police that stopped the looting, but neighborhood residents who essentially talked potential looters out of looting. And this was going on with other stores, as well. They were saved from being looted by the mediation efforts of the community. Contrast this with what we have come to expect from police in such situations, with their oppositional relationship to the community. It is time to defund the present “public safety” institutions and build and fund something more holistic and compassionate and embedded in the community.

For those who would immediately dismiss “defunding” as an impossibility, a sign of hope came from the Minneapolis city council when they voted to dismantle the police force. They decided that the “current policing system could not be reformed.” They pledged “to begin the process of taking apart the Police Department as it now exists.” (New York Times)

The pandemics of the coronavirus and racism have both brought forth anger, in different ways. In either case, we are helped by becoming aware of the pain underneath the anger, acknowledging it, and recognizing where that pain is actually coming from, so that we do not misdirect our anger. Love of ourselves and others helps us with that. The freedom of love gives a healing, liberating direction to our anger as we address the causes of the pain.

Filed under: Grace, Justice, Love, RacismTagged with: , ,

Gifts in a Time of Pandemic: The Freedom of Love

Consider two different responses to the pandemic:

  1. A group of people protests in front of a state capital building, some carrying assault weapons providing an image of threat and intimidation. They are protesting the infringement on their “freedom.” Social distancing orders have deeply affected their lives, their freedom of movement, and, for many, their employment. They have framed their losses as bondage.
  2. An elderly man is given a ventilator by people who love him, in a nation where there are not enough ventilators for all who need them. A band of people has found a way to pay for and obtain a ventilator for this man they love. It is a gift to him. He receives it and then gives it away to a young man who also needs a ventilator. He then succumbs to the COVID-19 virus.

Which of these two responses to the pandemic is an expression of freedom? Is freedom found in my ability to do what I want (do my thing) even when it infringes upon the lives of others, disregards their ability to live? Or, is freedom found in the ability to freely give up my life for the life of another?

Freedom is often expressed in terms of our ability to do what we want. But, as theologian Karl Rahner expressed in one of his essays, there are spheres of freedom. When it comes to our freedom of choice, one person’s sphere of choice is larger or smaller than another. Our spheres of freedom impinge on or affect the freedom of others. One person’s sphere of freedom can diminish another’s. Historically, the “privileges” given to white people by racism have limited the choices available to black people (choices regarding schools, vocations, health care, freedom from violence, etc.). The present economic disparities in our nation depict different spheres of freedom to make various choices. Those who are wealthy have many more choices for escaping the effects of the coronavirus than those who are poor.

The only thing that truly begins to address the disparities and injustices is the freedom that is love. Martin Luther King, Jr, understood this with great clarity: “I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. This is why right, temporarily defeated, is stronger than evil triumphant.” This is true because love enters into the sphere of the other, even when that may mean diminishing one’s own sphere of choices. The elderly man, in giving up his ventilator, narrowed his choices. Again, Martin Luther King: “Love is the active outpouring of one’s whole being into the being of another.”

Love may have us narrowing our choices, but it also may have us expanding them. Love calls people beyond the limitations placed on them by others. It has us pressing forward, expanding our sphere in order to live out our calling in the compassionate use of our gifts in relation to others.

Whether our choices narrow or expand, love freely gives itself. It is the reality that cannot be coerced. We cannot make another person love us and we cannot keep another person from loving us. Even our evil actions against another cannot undo love, for love forgives. (Jesus from the cross: “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.”) Love, compassion, mercy, justice (making right what is wrong), bring true life-giving change and liberation.

The pandemic that we are enduring calls out for compassion and love. The disparities, along with leadership that ignores the poor and props up Wall Street, cry out for radical acts of love. When we see people answering this call, we see them freely giving themselves for the sake of others. Their actions heal and restore, do justice and liberate. We see genuine human freedom in these acts.

Regarding the two responses to the pandemic that I began with, each has a different feel to it. The first feels like the bondage of self-absorption. It does not feel like freedom to show up with weapons to demand that you get your way even at the cost of others’ well-being. The second feels like freedom, the freedom of giving oneself, one’s life, for another.

The opportunities to love are always there. But, in this time of a pandemic and the new situations it has created, it may be that the call to love—to the freedom that is love—is more easily distinguished from other voices. A gift is being offered to us: the call to love. Therefore, paraphrasing Jesus, “Let those who have ears to hear, let them hear and obey the call.”

Filed under: Grace, Love, SpiritualityTagged with: , , ,

A Pandemic Reminder: The World Is One

If we have ignored this reality, the present pandemic is a reminder: the world is one. A virus that began in Wuhan, China, is now global. It will increasingly effect every part of our global community. We are all in this together. What has been moving rapidly across the northern hemisphere will do the same in the southern hemisphere. What we have shared with those to the south will come back to the north from the south. It will move in every direction finding many various ways to spread.

Of course, this virus that knows no boundaries does not make us interconnected; it makes it harder to ignore our interconnection. We are one world, no matter how many boundaries or barriers we erect: physical, social, national, ethnic, class, etc. We affect one another across boundaries and by means of the barriers we erect: the wealthy here, the poor over there.

Those who are poorest among us, having the fewest resources, will experience greater devastation from this virus—the result of the inequality we have built within our nations and the global community. The poor do not simply choose to be poor. Poverty is produced by greed, racism, nationalism, fear; by the loss of love and compassion. As Augustine said, “The superfluities of the rich are the necessities of the poor.” We cause the divisions and breakdown of our one world. And yet the reality of the one human race is primary. We are one world. The coronavirus is a reminder. It touches us all.

This virus is expected to grow much more rapidly among poorer communities across the world. Consequently, it will be kept alive and pervasive longer because of the barriers we have erected and the oneness we have ignored. We are one world and one human family, but we have acted like we were adversaries in a quest to carve up this globe into kingdoms of wealth and power. Never mind the losers.

It is clear that if we, as a global community, were to address the needs of the hungry and poor among us, especially by addressing the systemic ways of operating that have produced inequities, we would break down barriers to the one world that we inescapably are. It may be that the reality of this pandemic forces us to make changes. After all, we are all helped when the necessities for healthy communities are available to all. The deeper change, however, comes with a change of heart, a movement toward love and compassion.

On this Maundy Thursday, Christians remember and reenact the last meal Jesus had with his followers. We share in a meal at which Jesus is the host. Jesus gathers us from every corner of the global community. The barriers of class, race, nation, and gender are removed. As Paul writes, “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.” Followers of Jesus are to be witnesses to this reality—witnesses to the true humanity to which all are called, a humanity made in the image of the God who is love.

Filed under: Justice, Love, Poverty, WitnessTagged with: , , ,