Showing posts with label meta. Show all posts
Showing posts with label meta. Show all posts

Sunday, January 10, 2021

Epiphany: Anger, Idolatry, and Storming the Capitol


Note: I wrote most of this on Thursday, 1/7/21, but chose to wait until Sunday, 1/10/21, to actually post it because I wanted to sleep on it, edit it, and make sure I wasn't just being reactionary.

On Wednesday, I didn’t write anything or post anything, because I knew it would come out harsh and aggressive.  I was—and am still—angry.  I am overflowing with what I’d consider ‘righteous indignation.’  But I also don't want to add to the problems or worsen the rifts that cracked open Wednesday along fault lines that have been forming for years—decades, even—beneath the ground of the political landscape.  The fault lines run deep, cutting through the hearts and minds and relationships and core beliefs of people across every state in our country, and indeed everywhere around the world.

There is so much anger—and I believe much of it stems from fear and from hurt.  There is so much fear.  Anger is the secondary emotion, the reaction to the underlying ones.  There’s a lack of communication and understanding and humane compassion.  We fail to listen to one another.  We look at the faces of family and friends, and we see enemies instead.  We look at people we don’t know—anyone with a public platform who thinks differently from us—and we see someone who wants to burn the system down and take away the things we hold most dear.  We fail to see that they, too, are afraid.  They, too, believe we are at a crossroads, an existential crisis where the principles and rights of a free society are in grave danger.  People on both sides of the aisle fervently embrace the ethos of one of the UK’s motivational propaganda posters from WWII: ‘Freedom Is In Peril - Defend It With All Your Might.’

That’s one of the things I’ve discovered over the past decade as I’ve gone through what I once described to Drew as “a bad breakup with the religious right.”  Stepping outside of that bubble into a state of political homelessness1 has helped me to see something that shouldn’t have surprised me but which honestly did, to my shame: that many liberals who I’d previously been led to believe would have no respect for the U.S. Constitution and who would throw it aside in the name of progress were actually just as defensive of the principles of freedom and dignity that it contains as many of the originalists I’d grown up around.  Yes, people on both sides of the aisle are flawed human beings who often exhibit hypocritical, judgmental, and selfish behavior regarding one or more issues. Yes, there are people at both fringes who by default and without provocation want to burn the system down in favor of either anarchy or totalitarianism of one form or another, but I believe those people are absolutely the minority.  The reality is that vast numbers of people on both sides of the aisle want to hold personal religious or moral beliefs without government persecution.  On both sides of the aisle, we don’t want to be disenfranchised because of our racial or ethnic background, our gender, or our socioeconomic status.  We don’t want to be unfairly excluded from the economy or systemically silenced in the marketplace of ideas (keyword: systemic; I’m relegating the particulars of 1st amendment discussions to another conversation).  On both sides of the aisle, we want our kids to grow up in a free society that truly acknowledges the inherent dignity and equality of all human beings, no matter who they are, no matter what societal categories they belong to.  Across large swaths of the political spectrum, we value the natural rights to life and liberty and advocate for those rights in a heterophonic refrain.  When we think these natural rights are at risk, we get scared.  When these rights get legitimately threatened, whether in large or small ways, there is genuine hurt.  And out of that hurt and that fear, we get defensive.  We get angry.

But being angry and being violent are two vastly different things.

What happened at the U.S. Capitol on Wednesday should not have happened.  I unequivocally condemn the violence, and I condemn even more harshly those political leaders who instigated it, who capitalized on the hurts and fears and insufficient Constitutional literacy of millions of Americans for their own gain (in particular: President Trump, Sen. Hawley, Sen. Cruz, and other elected officials who were complicit in the lies and pageantry for months, and even now are unwilling to distance themselves from that rhetoric).  Most importantly, I condemn in the strongest possible terms the people who link and equate the Gospel of Jesus Christ with the views that culminated in Wednesday’s literal assault on the physical seat of elected representative government in the United States.

Trump Supporters Gather Outside the Capitol, Wednesday, Jan. 6, 2021, in Washington. (AP Photo/John Minchillo)2 The AP photojournalist who took this photo was attacked3 by members of the crowd and had to be escorted to safety. Other members of the press suffered similar attacks4.

That coupling is a heresy5, and it is a stumbling block to people both inside and outside the church. If we embrace that heresy, then we have failed in our most fundamental callings as Christians: we have not loved our neighbors, nor acted justly, nor loved mercy, nor walked humbly with our God (Romans 13:9-106; Micah 6:87). If we embrace that heresy, we break the first three of the ten commandments simultaneously: we place an idealized image of America on a pedestal next to God, thereby making an idol of it and misusing His Name for our own gain.  Those who participated in Wednesday’s assault took that even further, arguably adding commandments six, eight, nine, and ten to the list of the day’s offenses: they acted on hatred for others, destroyed or stole what was not theirs to take (it is the people’s house, yes, but it belongs to all Americans, not just to the ones who share the beliefs of those who stormed the rotunda, defaced government property, and threatened to lynch elected officials), and they repeated lies and slander without remorse, coveting a powerful office for their political tribe which all evidence proves they did not have a legal, electoral right to claim.

This heresy has sunk its insidious roots deep into the flesh of the American church like a cancer, growing and metastasizing at an alarming rate.  Excising that cancer will be deeply painful, but it is necessary in order for the American church to heal.  It is necessary. Unlike the WWII poster’s assertion, ultimately the Gospel itself is not in peril; God is faithful and, out of His mercy, He always preserves a remnant, both here and around the world.  But what is at stake is the collateral damage—the real harm being done to the souls of Christians and non-Christians alike when the actions of those of us who profess Christ are at odds with the words and actions of the Christ we profess.  We are hurting others.  We are hurting ourselves.  It has to stop.  It has to stop now.  The complete extirpation of that heresy must begin today.  As our country repairs the literal and philosophical damage on Capitol Hill, the church must repair the damage within, too.

But violence must not beget violence, and hatred must not be answered with hatred.

The enemy is not my neighbor.  The enemy is not my family or my friends.  The enemy doesn’t sit on the other side of a political aisle or on a pew in a different denomination.  The real enemy is fear.  The real enemy is hatred.  The real enemy is dangerous ideology.  Ideas are powerful, and words have consequences.  We see that only too clearly today as we survey the physical and metaphysical damage in the cold light of dawn.

As we face a reckoning in the American church, I am hoping and praying that we will all return to the foot of the cross together, humbly confessing like the prodigal son and humbling granting forgiveness like the prodigal’s father. (This is the analogy set forth in David French's Nov. 2020 article8 on the subject, which I have found to be particularly moving and convicting over the past two months; I highly recommend it.)  May we, unlike the prodigal’s older brother, have the humility to forgive our repenting brothers and sisters as Christ has forgiven us our sins, which may be less public but are no less real and no less of an affront to the holiness of God.

As we face a reckoning in our society, I am hoping and praying that we can all rise above our differences and work together as Americans to reaffirm the fundamental rights and governing principles of our democratic republic, because despite all the vitriol, there’s still more that unites than divides us, and violence isn’t the way to heal the rifts.

The way forward, both in the church and in our society, is through listening well and speaking the truth in love.  May all American Christians heed the calling to act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with our God.  May all Americans—regardless of religious beliefs or political alignments—learn how to love our neighbors as ourselves.


Links:

1 French, David. “The Spiritual Blessing of Political Homelessness.” The French Press, The Dispatch, 18 Oct. 2020, frenchpress.thedispatch.com/p/the-spiritual-blessing-of-political.

2 Minchillo, John. “Trump Supporters Gather Outside the Capitol, Wednesday, Jan. 6, 2021, in Washington. (AP Photo/John Minchillo).” AP PHOTOS: Scenes of Violence at U.S. Capitol Shock World, Associated Press, 6 Jan. 2021.

3 Spocchia, Gino. “Shocking Video Shows AP Photographer Attacked at Capitol Riots.” The Independent, Independent Digital News and Media, 8 Jan. 2021, www.independent.co.uk/news/world/americas/us-election-2020/capitol-riot-congress-ap-antifa-b1784648.html.

4 Bauder, David. “Journalists Recount Harrowing Attacks amid Capitol Riot.” ABC News, ABC News Network, 8 Jan. 2021, abcnews.go.com/Entertainment/wireStory/journalists-recount-harrowing-attacks-amid-capitol-riot-75143696.

5 Warren, Tish Harrison. “We Worship with the Magi, Not MAGA.” ChristianityToday.com, Christianity Today, 7 Jan. 2021, www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2021/january-web-only/trump-capitol-mob-election-politics-magi-not-maga.html.

6 “Bible Gateway Passage: Romans 13:9-10 - English Standard Version.” Bible Gateway, The Holy Bible, English Standard Version. ESV® Text Edition: 2016. Copyright © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a Publishing Ministry of Good News Publishers., https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=romans+13%3A9-10&version=ESV.

7 “Bible Gateway Passage: Micah 6:8 - New International Version.” Bible Gateway, Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV® Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.®, www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Micah+6%3A8&version=NIV.

8 French, David. “How We Heal.” The French Press, The Dispatch, 1 Nov. 2020, frenchpress.thedispatch.com/p/how-we-heal.

Sunday, December 27, 2020

Wanderlust the Blog, Reimagined.


So.

It's been a long time: more than six years.

Six. Years.

A lot can happen—has happened—in six years.

So why now?  Why resurrect a travel-themed blog when I haven't taken an international flight since November 2014 when we moved back to the States from South Korea?  The adventures since then have mainly been metaphorical rather than geographical, with a handful of notable exceptions (like a road trip from STL to Virginia in 2019...but that's a saga best left for another day).

More to the point, why resurrect a travel-themed blog when I've not gone further than ~70 miles from my front door since the COVID-19 pandemic's waves of quarantines first reached St. Louis in mid-March 2020?  These days, in all honesty:

(Yes, Supernatural even has a gif for that, apparently.)

So why dredge up this insignificant corner of the interwebs now?  Maybe it's self-indulgent, but I've realized that I still have things I want to say—things that I think still fit with the overarching theme of this blog.  I've written a great deal in the past few years in the course of processing a number of life events and this seems like a reasonable place to share selections of those thoughts.

So: Wanderlust the Blog, Reimagined.

It's not always a literal wandering.  Sometimes it's a professional wandering through grad school and career changes.  Sometimes it's a physical or emotional wandering through the harsh landscape of chronic illness.  Sometimes it's a spiritual wandering through green pastures, across lonely deserts, beside still waters, or even through the valley of the shadow of death.  I'm a citizen of heaven, a life-long expat wandering here on earth, eagerly awaiting the return of my King.

Speaking of returning kings, it seems fitting to elaborate on the source of the quotation in this blog's header as part of the grounds for this blog-reimagining.  Odds are that most of you reading this blog don't need additional context for that quotation because either because you know me well or we happen to overlap in a Venn diagram of literary tastes, but please bear with me for a minute, okay?

In J.R.R. Tolkien's The Fellowship of the Ring, a poem known as the Riddle of Strider appears which prophetically describes Aragorn, the titular king of the third book in the Lord of the Rings trilogy:

All that is gold does not glitter;
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither;
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.

While I'm confident that a great deal has already been written elsewhere about these stanzas by far more learnĂ©d and eloquent individuals than myself, I want to highlight what resonates with me.  There is something unwavering—settled, even—about Aragorn the wanderer as described in the first stanza, something which is not buffeted about by his nomadic circumstances.  Yes, he has fears and doubts which hold him back from claiming his rightful kingship for a significant part of the trilogy.  Yes, he spends many years as a wanderer, but his character is rooted in something deeper, something that eventually drives him to take up the crown and title when Gondor's need is greatest.  It is this inner character—his courage, his compassion, his commitment to justice and to peace—which informs his actions as a warrior, healer, lover, and friend throughout the saga.  He doesn't undergo a fundamental transformation when he becomes king.  He continues to be who he already was.  The addition of a crown doesn't make him a good king; his extant moral center does.

So what does that have to do with me and with this blog?  The truth is that my physical and metaphorical wanderings over the years have encompassed both aimless exile and wonder-filled exploration.  I'll skip the specifics for now, but since I started this blog just over a decade ago, I've spent a lot of time asking myself the following questions:

When thing after thing after thing is stripped away, what is left of me?  Who am I, deep down where the frost doesn't reach?

I've written thousands of words in the past decade in the course of verbal-processing some answers to those questions, and doubtless I'll write thousands more before my journey ends.  I've decided some of those words will end up here on this blog, serving as a chronicle of both the literal and metaphorical miles I travel.  And maybe, just maybe, someone will find something edifying—whether hope, or solidarity, or challenge—as they traverse the hills and valleys of my words with me.

When Bilbo sets out for Rivendell in The Fellowship of the Ring, he sings:

The Road goes ever on and on,
Down from the door where it began.
No far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.

What I can say is this: I am a blade that has been broken, but God is reforging me, piece by piece.