Living in a Post-Election World; Leading in a Country Divided
Reflections on an Online Seminar sponsored by Christian Theological Seminary[1]
The Gospel of Mark
begins with John the Baptist in the wilderness “proclaiming a baptism of
repentance for the forgiveness of sins” (1:4 NRSV). What strikes me about John the Baptist—is that
he was nowhere near a church. And those who insisted on staying inside the church
never heard his message—they NEVER got it!
Why the wilderness? because, in the
wilderness, there’s only God; there’s no political system, no government, no
economic system, no military or police system, no education system, no science,
no social security, no insurance, no pensions, no locked doors…
I suspect every one of us has some idea where
our own wilderness lies—and we all have long lists of good reasons we should
not go there.
And then, a pandemic hits.
And suddenly—we didn’t choose this; we didn’t
plan this—we all are in the wilderness. Our political life is in chaos, our nation is a house
divided, and there’s a pandemic that has become politicized and, in some cases,
weaponized.
And over the past
two weeks our election process disrupted what little was left of “normal” for
us. Antagonistic lines were drawn in the sand many years ago, and the animosity
and belligerence exchanged across those lines has exploded across social media,
increasing daily in intensity.
So, how do Americans
respond? And, in particular, how do people of faith respond? I am a Christian,
and although I have respect for many other faith communities, I will not
attempt to speak for any but my own.
First, we grieve. Grief is not
just sadness; although, sadness is an obvious part of grief. Grief is a process
that moves through stages toward healing. There is no logical or “normal” order
to the stages of grief, even though they are relatively well-defined and observable.
They don’t even have the decency to come at us one-at-a-time. And there’s no
guarantee that an apparently resolved stage won’t reoccur.
Anger is one of
the most disruptive stages of grief. Combined with other stages, its impact is intensified.
A sense of numbness reduces one’s capacity for clarity of thought, and shock
and denial redirect (often misdirecting) one’s energy and motivation. Other
typical stages of grief include loneliness and even clinical depression.
My point is that
grief is a normal response to any sense of significant loss, including the loss
of dignity, sense of direction, or hope, and that grief is not a good platform
from which to make significant decisions or to take significant action. It’s a
part of our wilderness.
Second, but related to
grief is the anxiety we experience in face of our revealed
vulnerability. A part of our culture denies vulnerability as anything
other than the result of laziness or poor decisions. Others may recognize the
reality of personal and/or social vulnerability, but never expect to experience
it.
Even with infections
and deaths spiraling out of control, many continue to deny the seriousness of
the current pandemic, and their obstinate refusal to take precautions becomes a
major factor in our growing vulnerability, as well as the anxiety concerning
said vulnerability.
I confess to no
small degree of anger at the insensitivity and the willingness of some to use the
health and life of my family and loved ones as gambling stakes in betting that their
anti-science dismissal of the corona virus is right, regardless of the
preponderance of scientific and medical evidence to the contrary--including over 235,000 related deaths, many of which could have been prevented.
And so, here we
are in the wilderness.
And yet, as God’s
people—as people of faith—this is not a strange place. We’ve been here before;
we’ve done this before. Turn to Scripture stories of how the people of God were
strengthened and led by God. Realize we are children of God, and not only have we
done this before—God has done this before.
God is still our
refuge and our strength, and this is a time, and these are conditions for us to
put our faith into action:
a.
…to
look to value a person, rather than to denounce his or her position,
b.
…to
redirect our energies intentionally away from division. and
c.
…for
religious leaders to model an ability to work together, even across our
differences!
Faith communities
cannot impact the division until they come together, themselves. In a community
I served some years ago there was intense racial friction. Whites were a
minority, but controlled everything. The city was zoned so that there were four
white and four black city councilmen. The mayor always was white. Every vote
was 4 – 4, with the mayor casting the deciding vote. Local chapters of three nationally
prominent ethnic gangs engaged in their turf wars. The community was wired for
conflict.
There was an incident
that threatened to ignite the volatile environment, and a weekly lectionary
study group (all white clergy) issued a call for all clergy in the city to
gather.
About 75
ministers, equally divided by ethnicity, showed up. After about an hour of polite-but-tense
(and virtually impotent) conversation, one of the black ministers stood and
said, “In this room I see black ministers who represent the perspective of Dr.
Martin Luther King, and ministers who represent the perspective of Malcom X,
and ministers who represent the perspective of the Black Panthers. How can we
hope to unite across ethnic lines when we in the black community can’t even
unite, ourselves?”
So, I repeat: “Faith
communities cannot impact the division until they come together, themselves.”
One way we can consider that is by developing an ability to communicate faith
concepts without using faith language. Instead of demanding that the public understand
our faith jargon, we could develop, instead, the ability, through listening, to
communicate our message in the public’s language.
And finally, there
is that stereotypical scapegoat: “the media.” There is a common, uncritical (let’s
even say oblivious and irresponsible) diatribe that suggests “the media” is at
the root of all our nation’s problems. The judgment is that “the media” forms
our thoughts and opinions, as if we aren’t fully capable of considering
evidence and coming to our own conclusions.
“The media” prints
and broadcasts what its market will buy. Period. They reflect, rather than
form, the values and ideologies of specific American markets. FOX publishes
what a very conservative market will buy, while MSNBC (possible the ideological
opposite of FOX) publishes what its market will buy. In all cases, the opinions,
biases and ideologies of the market form the content of media publications,
rather than the media forming the public’s ideology.
Of particular blameworthiness
is social media: Facebook, Twitter, etc. These social media form a barometer—a dipstick—by
which to measure to pulse and biases of America. And it’s all there in its raw
ugliness. But it’s not the social media that is at fault! It is but the medium through
which the American public vents its vile and hatred.
DON’T BLAME “THE
MEDIA”!
But people of
faith are called to a higher level of response. From the Christian perspective,
the valid faith response to the allegation that social media (or “the media” in
general) is forming our values is two-fold:
(1) we are totally
responsible for our own response! Hatred and divisiveness happens only if we
allow it. We are not obligated to respond in kind!
(2) self-knowledge
is crucial. The issue is simple: who, or what, is the model by which we form
our values and our character? Are we limited by the narrowly (and usually
erroneously) defined categories that are flung around carelessly on social
media? Or are we truly free to choose our own model? Are we responsible enough
to study deeply into the roots and origins of the models we choose?
The voice of John
the Baptist calls us to turn from uncritical acceptance of social values and
character, and to choose responsibly. For me, my conscious choice is the life
and teachings and sacrificial obedience of Jesus of Nazareth. My personal spiritual
journey through these anxious and uncertain times is guided by this one vision:
“Day
by day, Oh, dear Lord, these things I pray:
To
see Thee more clearly,
Love
Thee more dearly,
Follow
Thee more nearly,
Day by day.”[2]
That’s the way it
looks through the “Flawed Glass” that is my world view.
Together
in the Walk,
Jim
[1]
[2]
From the musical, “Godspell”, by Stephen Schwartz, book by
John-Michael Tebelak. 1970.
