I, like many, feel as if we are living in a dark night where the wind blows cold and the stars seem dim. I feel the anxiety that many witness to when they say they have heightened anxiety in this new world we seem to find ourselves inhabiting. My feelings have been a mix of righteous indignation and rage at how the discourse concerning our identities as Americans, Christians, and even human beings seems to be descending into a pit of negative projection towards difference. Like millions of others, I have taken to the streets, waving my sign and chanting the chorus of resistance. I’ve written before of my particular feelings toward those who would call themselves Christians while refusing to apply Scripture to their social comments. These are my feelings, and I know that they are not unique to me, nor are they indicative of some obscure social movement.
However, as time has continued to progress, and that thing I will call “night” deepens around us, I have a question. What will we do when the sun comes up?
My faith obligates me to orient myself towards hope. I shine my light in the darkness because I truly believe, “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.” I have an intuitive sense that the sun will rise and this “night” will end. The world has moved, though at times slowly and hesitantly, towards a more peaceful and just existence. Though strife is ever-present, human beings have overcome our own inhumanity so many times before that I believe we will again. But what happens on that morning?
After we have carried our signs, chanted our hopes for the future, and resisted those things that we feel are threatening us, will we be able to build the world we truly hope for?
If polarization is the thing that has led us to this place, are we truly doing anything to create a future of reconciliation?
Reconciliation is a powerful word for Christians. We believe that the work of Jesus reconciled the world to God, and Paul’s words would send us out into the world to participate in the ministry of reconciliation. Currently, the voices around me have spoken often of the need to speak out against that which seems to counter to the Gospel we hold so dear. I have done my share of saying, “I’m not that kind of Christian.” But when the sun begins to warm me, what kind of Christian will I be?
Over the past few months, I, like many, have felt horror and resentment towards what I see as bigotry run amuck in our social discourse. There have been people that I grew up with that have said incendiary things and felt no compunction to reflect on the consequences of their choice of words. I may have responded at times with uncharitable words of my own to those who are so inflexible. I wonder, however, will there be any chance at recovery after this time has passed, or will we just retreat into separate corners to celebrate/mourn the change in situation?
Now, it should be clear that I am hoping to spur a conversation on how we can affect change in our world without alienating those on the other side of the debate. We have our own personal opinions on what we think of those who differ from us, and I’m sure we could say equally hateful things about each other. But when the time comes that things change it will not be different if we don’t start now in altering how we try to affect that change. If all we do is shove one side off the molehill so we can take our place, there is still a hill and still those who are on the bottom. Nothing really changes in such a situation, though we would like to think it will be better.
The feelings attached to all of this are difficult to navigate. Some have been deeply wounded by the changing social context, and others imagine that they have. Finding grace can seem as if we are dismissing our differences without actually changing anything. Those who spend long hours and unrecoverable amounts of energy in trying to make things better can see reconciliation as negation of their hard work. I don’t know how to address all of this. It’s more than I can respond to on my own, and I need to recognize that if I am ever going to be able to have a real conversation about it.
As members of the body of Christ, we are supposed to be at the forefront of reconciling the world to God. It will mean that we need to reconcile ourselves to one another, and that is a tall order. It doesn’t mean I’m not going to march, or speak up for what I think is important and true. However, it does mean that as we try to push a march for progress, we can’t burn down every bridge we cross, or no one will be able to follow.
If the day dawns on us, does it mean the night settles on someone else?
Should it?