When Freedom Gets Ugly

I’m a reader/writer/listener/learner. Former journalism student. Current events observer. Occasional blogger. Everyday pray-er. Ordinary American.

As such, I’m especially grateful for the rights of free speech, free press, freedom of religion afforded me in this country. These are privileges many will never know.

But – more than ever – I’m unsettled by the blurry lines between those beautiful freedoms and… a whole lot of ugly.

Hate speech.

Propaganda. (Cleverly disguised as news.)

Freedom of some religions… and seemingly permissible persecution of others.

I feel like I’m witnessing firsthand a sharp uptick in all of the above. It’s terrible.

And terrifying.

What’s going on?

In city streets? On college campuses? At churches, synagogues and mosques, even? (Aren’t houses of worship meant for… worship?)

Why the misplaced politicizing? The incendiary rhetoric? The micro- and macro-aggressions?

A war is on, I know. Several, actually. (And more brewing, I fear.)

People are being bombarded and brutalized. We shouldn’t be apathetic about that. Of course not. We should care about the people – the children, for heaven’s sake – whose lives are shattering in real time. And we should raise our voices against injustice, oppression, persecution.

(Silence isn’t always golden.)

But in our pleas/protests/preaching, we better be careful we don’t become the very things we’re railing against (unjust, oppressive, destructive) and shatter our own lives in the process.

Can’t we enjoy our liberties civilly? Exercise our freedoms without impeding others’? Demonstrate without vitriol or violence?

A wise man once said:

Hate cannot drive out hate.

When are we going to learn that?

I recently watched a sermon sent by a dear friend whose heart, she said, was thoughtfully expressed in her rabbi’s message.

The message resonated with me (a Christian), not because I understand the Jewish experience (nor the Palestinian)… but because I share the human experience. In all of its vast complexity, its gripping fear and exquisite beauty, its excruciating pain and unbridled joy and waves of sorrow.

I heard her rabbi’s call for both vigilance in the Jewish community and heartfelt compassion for Palestinians. I sensed the tension between his warranted fear of rising antisemitism… and his distress over the plight of innocent Gazans caught in the relentless offensive against Hamas. I felt his angst over the ongoing suffering of Israeli hostages and his horror at the great loss of life in Gaza.

Hard things to grapple with. Even harder to effectively address.

How can I be an ally of my Jewish friends and family… and heed the cries for help resounding from Gaza?

How can I defend Israel’s right to protect its citizens (and deter further terrorism) and – at the same time – back the call for protection/recognition/liberty for Palestinians in Gaza and the West Bank?

How can I advocate on behalf of the Jewish people (a people God calls his own) and also advocate for the Palestinian people shell-shocked and starving as the Israel-Hamas war continues?

I honestly don’t know if it’s possible – without offending/disparaging/repudiating someone (or millions).

But I hope I have the courage to try.

Here’s what I won’t do (God helping me):

I won’t stop reading, writing, listening, learning.

I won’t turn a blind eye to things happening across the continents, in our country, or around the corner.

I won’t tolerate hate speech in my earshot or on my page.

I won’t refuse to believe that history could repeat itself.

Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.

Yes… but how in the world do we start?

Love your neighbor.

The ones you identify with and the ones you don’t. The ones you agree with… and the ones whose rhetoric perplexes/perturbs/inflames/infuriates you.

“If you only love the lovable, do you expect a pat on the back? Run-of-the-mill sinners do that. If you only help those who help you, do you expect a medal? Garden-variety sinners do that…

“I tell you, love your enemies. Help and give without expecting a return. You’ll never—I promise—regret it. Live out this God-created identity the way our Father lives toward us, generously and graciously, even when we’re at our worst. Our Father is kind; you be kind.” ~ Luke 6:32-36 (MSG)

Ever seen this meme?

HUMANkind. Be both.

(^ Yeah, that.)

Exercise your freedoms with wisdom and discretion and restraint. And if you’re the praying type, please do.

Pray for the peace of Jerusalem. Say,
    “May those who love you be secure.
May there be peace inside your walls.
    May your people be kept safe.”
I’m concerned for my family and friends…
     ~ Psalm 122:6-8a (NIRV)

Deeply.

So I pray for peace… and try to live it.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

Here. There. Everywhere.

Amen.

Wendy

The Race Ahead

There are two races happening simultaneously…

Right.

Now.

At this critical moment in history.

A tensely public one… and an intensely private one.

The presidential race.

And the personal one.

The real question is: which race is compelling/controlling/consuming you?

I don’t know about yours… but my newsfeed’s been littered with sordid soundbites, toxic tweets, polarizing posts, contentious comments and misguided memes. Shouldn’t surprise me. That kind of crap is the hallmark of any election cycle. But it feels like a sucker punch to the gut when it comes from other Christians.

Ugh.

If we claim to follow Jesus, aren’t we supposed to respond (and relate) the way he does?

I know; I know. It’s an impossible standard. I get it. I fail, again and again. And again. (Just ask Steve. Or my kids.)

But shouldn’t we at least try?

(And maybe pause… before we post?)

Jesus doesn’t use control tactics or condescension or condemnation to influence us. He uses breathtaking kindness and uncanny humility and astonishing mercy.

Aren’t we called to be his imitators… and ambassadors?

(Pssst. Our thinly-disguised arrogance and defensiveness are showing. We should probably ask him to help us tuck that back in.)

In an authorized biography of his life (penned by his friend John), Jesus put it bluntly:

“If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” ~ John 14:15 (ESV)

One of which was…

Love your enemies.

(I can only assume that includes political adversaries…)

“You’re familiar with the old written law, ‘Love your friend,’ and its unwritten companion, ‘Hate your enemy.’ I’m challenging that. I’m telling you to love your enemies. Let them bring out the best in you, not the worst. When someone gives you a hard time, respond with the energies of prayer, for then you are working out of your true selves, your God-created selves. This is what God does. He gives his best—the sun to warm and the rain to nourish—to everyone, regardless: the good and bad, the nice and nasty. If all you do is love the lovable, do you expect a bonus? Anybody can do that. If you simply say hello to those who greet you, do you expect a medal? Any run-of-the-mill sinner does that.

“In a word, what I’m saying is, Grow up. You’re kingdom subjects. Now live like it. Live out your God-created identity. Live generously and graciously toward others, the way God lives toward you.” ~ Matthew 5:43-48 (The Message)

Here’s the bottom line. Jesus is our leader. We’re supposed to follow him.

Not Trump. Or Biden. Or any other politician…or party.

(Thank God.)

Yes, by all means (in-person, absentee, mail)… please VOTE.

But remember this:

We follow Jesus alone. We chase after him. We run wholeheartedly and hard for the finish line – on the route he has mapped out for us. We push through pain. We stay steady… finish strong… leave it all on the course.

The walk/sprint/marathon/obstacle course called…

Life.

Yours.

And mine.

We all get to run it once. There’s no training course or trial run.

This.

Is.

It.

And if you call yourself a Christian, you (and I) have got some pretty explicit instructions:

Do you see what this means—all these pioneers who blazed the way, all these veterans cheering us on? It means we’d better get on with it. Strip down, start running—and never quit! No extra spiritual fat, no parasitic sins. Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we’re in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed—that exhilarating finish in and with God—he could put up with anything along the way: Cross, shame, whatever. And now he’s there, in the place of honor, right alongside God. When you find yourselves flagging in your faith, go over that story again, item by item, that long litany of hostility he plowed through. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls!

In this all-out match against sin, others have suffered far worse than you, to say nothing of what Jesus went through—all that bloodshed! So don’t feel sorry for yourselves. Or have you forgotten how good parents treat children, and that God regards you as his children?

My dear child, don’t shrug off God’s discipline, but don’t be crushed by it either. It’s the child he loves that he disciplines; the child he embraces, he also corrects.

God is educating you; that’s why you must never drop out. He’s treating you as dear children. This trouble you’re in isn’t punishment; it’s training, the normal experience of children. Only irresponsible parents leave children to fend for themselves. Would you prefer an irresponsible God? We respect our own parents for training and not spoiling us, so why not embrace God’s training so we can truly live? While we were children, our parents did what seemed best to them. But God is doing what is best for us, training us to live God’s holy best. At the time, discipline isn’t much fun. It always feels like it’s going against the grain. Later, of course, it pays off handsomely, for it’s the well-trained who find themselves mature in their relationship with God.

So don’t sit around on your hands! No more dragging your feet! Clear the path for long-distance runners so no one will trip and fall, so no one will step in a hole and sprain an ankle. Help each other out. And run for it! ~ Hebrews 12:1-13 (MSG)

That’s my hope/prayer/purpose…

To run this race. With Jesus.

For Jesus.

Like my life – and others’ – depended on it.

I’ve been running a long time. I’ve got scraped knees and blistered feet and shin splints. I falter and fall back… and fall down. Sometimes I even veer off the race route. But here’s a few things I’ve learned along the way:

Quit looking around while you’re running. It’ll slow you down.

Stay in your lane.

Don’t get discouraged/distracted/dismayed by the other runners.

And whatever you do, don’t run for accolades or applause. Ribbons fray. Trophies tarnish. Ovations end. Earthly acclaim is fleeting. And race fans are fickle. (Sometimes the fastest and best runners have the fewest people cheering them on. Often, actually.)

The next couple months will likely bring less-than-ideal race conditions – in both the presidential contest and the personal one.

Let’s focus on the race that matters.

And pick up the pace.

Wendy

P.S. Someone needs to read this:

Maybe you think it’s too late for you. You quit the race a long time ago… or never even bothered to enter. Maybe you think you’re disqualified because of what you did or where you’ve been… or who you are. But that’s a lie. Jesus’ invitation stands. And his love for you is indestructable, his mercy free for the asking. It’s time to put your feet in the starting blocks. He’ll show you the way. (He is the Way.) And he’ll run with you. Every single step.

So what are you waiting for?

On your mark.