Christians, we have a problem.
We are violent. Our violence manifests in many forms: speech, actions, misuse of human-created items, thoughts, and a general lack of care for our fellow humans. We worship at the altars of xenophobia, aporophobia, heterophobia, homophobia, and many more phobias that I cannot even spell. Fear seems to be the starting point of our beliefs. It isn’t that we believe in anything in particular, but rather that we fear something ‘other’ and therefore name that ‘other’ as enemy. Then we go to war.
When the cries of thousands emanate from the blood-soaked ground upon which we place our soap-boxes, their pleas for justice fail to reach our ears. We’re too busy expounding upon the reasons for which we should get rid of this or that, the virtues of our standings, that we miss the real issue plaguing us: In the name of inclusion, we have decided who’s ‘in or out’. Then we draw circles to exclude, answering violence with violence. The violence of excommunication from church, community, and/or civilization in general. The adage of “you’re either with me or against me” rings true in our souls, while we espouse a different message with our mouths. The Episcopal Church Welcomes You. But we forget to print the parenthetical to that statement, “as long as you agree with the new way.” There’s a shift occurring in our little denomination that serves as a microcosm to a much larger paradigm shift. With all the ‘isms’ with which we terrorize each other, we lose sight of the important call laid upon us: To seek and serve Christ in all persons.
In ALL persons.
Someone is a gun advocate? We shun them. Someone holds a different view on sexuality (both heterogenous and homogenous), we shun them. Someone expresses a belief with which we disagree? We shun them. Our doors aren’t as easily entered as we might hope—it’s actually becoming more difficult to be welcomed into anywhere and accepted for who we are. These fears, these ‘isms’ breed violence. God is forgotten amid the desire to be right. Not righteous. Right. We would rather set up our camps and volley insults and bible verses at each other than actually come to the table, together. “I just can’t see Jesus in that person.” Well, good thing for us that God sees Christ in every one of us. It isn’t up to us to decide who’s in or out, who’s wrong or right. It’s up to us, those of us who prescribe to Christianity, to find a way to live in a holy tension with one another. Even if it means facing ourselves and recognizing that we, too, have placed restrictions on who we would like to see in our pews, across our tables, and in our circles.
I am guilty. I am one of the ‘we’ to which I refer. And I know I need to do better about opening my eyes and ears to see and hear the words from the ‘other’, before conversation dies and violence begins.
There is undoubtedly a presence of evil in the world. We cannot hope to contain the sinful nature or violent nature of every human being. Yet, we can strive to listen to each other and include one another through our differences. This insidious disease of dis-ease with one another is the root of much evil that infects our hearts and blinds our eyes. We may not be able to save the world, but thankfully that’s already been done for us. The way I see it, our job is to do the best we can to love one another through our differences. To recognize that much more unites us than separates us. To allow our anger to be aimed at its progenitor: the vile discrimination manifesting in our souls. My hope is that we can, in our individual communities, seek to understand varying perspectives and have real conversations. We don’t have to get angry and walk away from each other. We don’t have to resort to a Wick-ian version of excommunicado. We’re called to respect the dignity of every human being, and that excludes waiting for them to do it, first.
Christians, we have a problem. The violence infecting our hearts is seen and heard by others who would otherwise have a bastion of hope to look to: a community of believers who truly love one another even through their differences. This is what I aim to do, naïve as it might sound. Trite as it might be. I desire to stand and proclaim God's law without muddying it with my own agenda. Because I know that to affect change, I have to be an agent of it as well. I don’t blame knives, guns, bombs, disease or anything else as the primary means through which evil begets violence. I blame the hands and feet of those who utilize these in evil ways. There is no jus bellum in self-righteous beliefs, there’s just war.
Stand up for what you believe in. As will I. But I’ll never hate you for it because I am called to love you no matter what. We may not like each other, but we don’t have to hate each other. Then, perhaps the violence we see in this world will lessen, the walls between us will begin to crumble, and we can come together and build a community based on mutually-assured success and love. Not ‘like’.
Love.
The love of Jesus Christ.
Faithfully,
Fr. Sean+