Hatred becomes quickly soul stifling.
It triggers in us the desire to avenge, or revenge. Begins as righteous anger. Changes our focus. Though our intent may be positive, we lose all gained the moment we hate.
I have struggled with this since the election of a demagogue in the country I love so much. Struggled with the backlash of hatred. A backlash that has brought ugliness out in to the open and allowed darkness to descend. A backlash that, at times, tempted to bring my own ugliness out in resistance.
I want so badly to hate the blind followers. To call them sheep, and racists, and forget that they are human beings terrified about their own future and the world they live in. Tired of being abandoned by both sides. Tired of watching their families be edged out of a safe niche they had carved for themselves into obscurity. Tired of hearing about others being marginalized while being invisible themselves.
Many on both sides decided it was better to watch it all burn than take part in it any more. Not knowing the damage that would be done. Not realizing that this man was not pretending when he gave the siren call to angry white men who had been waiting for the exit of a black president. Not just playing for a vote.
Initially I was also angry. Angry that one side had put forth such an establishment candidate. Angry that they overlooked the rage that was creating a wave that would sweep misogyny and hatred into the highest position of power in the world. Angry that everyone was so taken with the sideshow they did not notice the wolves gathering.
I could not stay angry. I knew that anger would swallow me. In the aftermath I have struggled with what my role would be. As a therapist my job is to help people hold fearful emotional spaces and provide a grounded foundation from which they can find their own footing, their own solutions. But what happens when my foundation has been shaken? How do I provide stability for them when suddenly the earth under my own feet has turned to sand?
I have wrestled with my place in this world as I see serious darkness descending.
I am a professed Christian, but I have not felt welcome in that world for some time.
Too often the Christian world leaves me feeling a stranger in a strange land. Unfamiliar with the hate and judgement that I see, wondering what has happened to the calling. Couched in the faintest professions of faith and too often rooted deeply in fear.
Platitudes this time of year about keeping the “Christ in Christmas” make me wonder what happened to the “Christ in Christianity”.
In my rejection of that fear and that form of “faith” it is easy for me to become judgmental. I have seen many professed liberal Christians do just that and then they fall too. They fall into the trap of judgement where love cannot exist.
My faith, my belief about God and His calling for me is rooted in love. It cannot coexist with judgment or hatred. But loving is often difficult and painful. What then?
I have decided I will I do what I am called to do. I will love with courage. I will love even when I know I will be hurt. Even when I know I will be rejected. Simply love out of sheer faith. Love and stand as a beacon in the midst of the darkness. A light on a hill. Do this because I am called to do exactly this.
Khalil Gibran said it best in The Prophet. When the disciples ask the prophet to tell them about love. He tells them that it will crush them, destroy them and build them back up only to crush them again. He advises that we run headlong towards love even knowing the pain it will cause. Knowing it will be worth it. That it’s the only real thing of value in this darkened world.
Fear is the antithesis of faith. It is the refusal to follow the example set. The unwillingness to suffer from “too much tenderness”....to “bleed willingly and joyfully”. It is the desire for what Dietrich Bonhoeffer called “Cheap Grace”. A need for the salvation of grace without the demand to follow the call. Absent the messiness of pain, love has little value.
This was the example set before us and the calling that we must hear. We are called to be the beacon on the hill. The light of refuge for those who suffer. The darkness is descending.
We must be there for the broken and discarded who were desperate when the false prophet of hope came offering healing and safety. When we watch as he installs a fresh set of gators in the swamp we must resist the urge to ridicule others for being fooled. Meet them with compassion and an understanding ear for the first time. Resist the call of our darker nature that would have us back on opposite sides of the fence, tear the fence down and embrace the ones we have thought of as enemies.
Risk loving even when it hurts because what the coming darkness has forgotten is that their darkness gives our light value. It is only at night that the lost begin to see the pinpoints of light on the horizon that will help them steer their ships to safe shores. So get out your candles. Stand in the darkness unafraid and ready to weather the storm.