We had a brief respite from the political ads, and it was lovely. But they are back in full force. From now until November the voices of the political machines will be vying for our attention and trust. It’s hard to trust people who have a clear agenda to simply “win.” It’s sometimes hard to tell who really has the best interests of the nation. It seems everyone in leadership has a personal agenda, first and foremost being re-elected.
But looking through the Christian lens I realize we have an incredible view of the world. We are told time and again in scripture to “not be afraid.” We are taught how to shift our view from the lens of scarcity and fear (often described through partisan politics) to a lens of resurrection and hope (the politics of the gospel). For decades, rabid partisanism has been tearing our country and communities apart, deepening the divides that pit us against one another. And we have fed into the plan just as it was intended. We have fed from the very hands that keep filling us with likes like there isn’t enough food (despite the fact that in the U.S. we throw away millions of tons of food every year), that dark-skinned people are to be feared (the objective of the “war on crime” and the “war on drugs,” to disenfranchise people of color), that people coming to the U.S. from the south are bad people who will steal from us (though most undocumented end up taking jobs that employers admit are hard to fill with citizens), that somehow we in the U.S. are superior to others (despite the fact that we have a lower life expectancies, higher rates of disease, and more people in prison than most other industrialized nations). The Church continues to decline in the U.S. and in much of the West, and so much of our talk within the Church has been shaped by those same lies of scarcity and fear—a focus on panicked resuscitation rather than hope filled resurrection.
But here’s the thing: our faith is all about resurrection. And, in order for resurrection to happen, there must be death (there must be a letting go of the things to which we hang on to with white knuckled grips, letting go of the lies that feed racism and anti-otherism, the lies that everyone is out to “get us”). I want to advocate for a different way of living the gospel. The church is seeing decline because we keep trying to resuscitate a nearly 500 year old European model of being Church, a way that was born in and shaped in a world that was very different from what we now know., what if we looked to resurrection from within our Church.
Is it time for that grand “rummage sale” Phyllis Tickle wrote about, where we take a long hard look at all the junk theology that we’ve accumulated over the years, piling layer upon layer of inconsistencies, hoarding comfort theologies whether or not they make sense? We have quickly learned to do and be Church in a very different way right now. The cost has been great. But it’s also providing an opportunity. What if we took an honest look at our “programs” and ministries, and tried to see what we may be hanging on to that is just not working anymore? What baggage (traditions for traditions’ sake, rather than for the sake of the life of Christ’s Church) are we still enacting more out of rote habit than faithful practice? How can we make room for the good stuff, the rich stuff, the basics of living a life founded on the simple tenants of loving God and loving neighbor, and seeing ourselves as very much a part of and intricately woven into one another’s lives?
It is often in a crisis or in the aftermath of a crisis that people will examine their lives in a different way. Crisis can give perspective. But we must grow from the crisis. Communal PTSD can easily creep in where we keep reliving the crisis, when we can’t let go of the crisis. There are the big crises, like 9/11 or the economic collapses in the 1930s, 1970s, 1990s, and in 2008. Each has resulted in significant changes in how we travel, how we purchase our homes, and how people and governments manage their finances. Is it possible that so much of the partisan divide in our country may be the result of some of the baggage we’re all holding on to—a mental image of the past, whether conservative or liberal, that might be not as nice or joyful for everyone as we think?
We need leaders who can differ in ideologies but still respect each other personally and work together. And we, the people, need to follow the example we’ve been given in Jesus and seek to hold our leadership accountable to our values. We can argue theology long into the night and never come to agreement. But aren’t there shared values we can glean from our individual theologies? Howe do we, the people, shift the narrative from “getting elected” to carrying the value of looking out for our neighbors (“love your neighbor”), especially the most vulnerable. When we do that, we will have discovered what true life is about and what kin-dom of God might actually look and feel like. Just a thought.