Fully living the greatest commandment.
When I was a child, I lived in a secure bubble of small town kindness and service of others. Violence was something I saw on the news and in entertainment, not in my local schools or churches. Granted, I was being protected from the real world by my family's physical isolation and my parents' careful monitoring of my media consumption. Even so, "small town" equaled "safe."
In college, both through conversations with people who grew up differently and through reading articles and tweets about actual events in America, I realized how tiny my bubble had been. This did not lead to remorse for my ignorance; rather, it led to interest in gaining an actual knowledge of other life experiences for the sake of compassion and empathy. In the last five years, I have watched news coverage and read personal accounts of suffering as the result of hatred and violence that guided me towards a deeper desire to love every person I encounter each day. I have heard my fellow believers talk about a similar desire, but I cannot say that I have seen it in action as often.
June 28, 2018 will remain infamous in my mind for the rest of my life. In the past, the kidnapping, torturing, or killing of journalists felt far away, probably because I read about it in international news coverage, not in coverage of an American newspaper office tragedy. This is the moment when I will confess to having been far previously more complacent about the matter than I would like to admit, despite my interest in journalism and my passion for free expression and freedom of information.
Today I am not interested in debating whether certain public figures have encouraged violence, hatred, or distrust of the members of the free press. I am not looking for a reason to claim a certain moral agenda that will merely benefit my own ego. It could be argued that my tendency towards the center of American politics has been driven by my desire to listen and discuss peacefully. More and more I see people around me from all walks of life rejecting the idea of peaceful disagreement and the search for actual solutions in favor of mudslinging and name calling.
My first impulse as a lover of justice is to point out wrongdoing and deception wherever I see it, calling for the wrongdoers and deceivers to be metaphorically hanged in the public streets to soothe my selfish guilty conscience for my own wrongdoings and lies. From a certain viewpoint, this seems fitting of an American citizen, free to speak and worship and love in a way that suits each person. I cannot help thinking, though, that to rely on that freedom so heavily without thought of a moral obligation is actually quite the opposite of a Christlike lifestyle. Giving thanks for that freedom is necessary, but to fixate on it and allow our lives to be dominated by it is quite literally like those who worship with similar-minded people on Sunday and then return to their day-to-day petty complaints about slow service in a busy restaurant or gossip about a community member's most recent relationship change. This behavior misses the point of Christ's calling to each one of us entirely.
Given my belief that I am commanded to love the Lord my God and love my neighbor as myself in every circumstance, no exceptions, I cannot turn a blind eye on hateful words and actions. When innocent lives are taken because of a distrust of other lifestyles, ideas, or faiths, I cannot wring my hands for a day and then return to normal life simply because it was not my family that lost a loved one. True compassion equals a search for understanding, and true love equals action. That means reading more than one news source before drawing a conclusion, that means recognizing when bias or lack of life experience has led to incorrect assumptions, that means condemning lies and hatred in one breath and asking "how can I help?" in the next breath.
Search for the balance between justice and forgiveness. Seek accountability with love as your motive, not desire to be "right." Find common ground with your fellow person, and remember who Jesus said is your neighbor. Perfect love will always cast out fear.
In college, both through conversations with people who grew up differently and through reading articles and tweets about actual events in America, I realized how tiny my bubble had been. This did not lead to remorse for my ignorance; rather, it led to interest in gaining an actual knowledge of other life experiences for the sake of compassion and empathy. In the last five years, I have watched news coverage and read personal accounts of suffering as the result of hatred and violence that guided me towards a deeper desire to love every person I encounter each day. I have heard my fellow believers talk about a similar desire, but I cannot say that I have seen it in action as often.
June 28, 2018 will remain infamous in my mind for the rest of my life. In the past, the kidnapping, torturing, or killing of journalists felt far away, probably because I read about it in international news coverage, not in coverage of an American newspaper office tragedy. This is the moment when I will confess to having been far previously more complacent about the matter than I would like to admit, despite my interest in journalism and my passion for free expression and freedom of information.
Today I am not interested in debating whether certain public figures have encouraged violence, hatred, or distrust of the members of the free press. I am not looking for a reason to claim a certain moral agenda that will merely benefit my own ego. It could be argued that my tendency towards the center of American politics has been driven by my desire to listen and discuss peacefully. More and more I see people around me from all walks of life rejecting the idea of peaceful disagreement and the search for actual solutions in favor of mudslinging and name calling.
My first impulse as a lover of justice is to point out wrongdoing and deception wherever I see it, calling for the wrongdoers and deceivers to be metaphorically hanged in the public streets to soothe my selfish guilty conscience for my own wrongdoings and lies. From a certain viewpoint, this seems fitting of an American citizen, free to speak and worship and love in a way that suits each person. I cannot help thinking, though, that to rely on that freedom so heavily without thought of a moral obligation is actually quite the opposite of a Christlike lifestyle. Giving thanks for that freedom is necessary, but to fixate on it and allow our lives to be dominated by it is quite literally like those who worship with similar-minded people on Sunday and then return to their day-to-day petty complaints about slow service in a busy restaurant or gossip about a community member's most recent relationship change. This behavior misses the point of Christ's calling to each one of us entirely.
Given my belief that I am commanded to love the Lord my God and love my neighbor as myself in every circumstance, no exceptions, I cannot turn a blind eye on hateful words and actions. When innocent lives are taken because of a distrust of other lifestyles, ideas, or faiths, I cannot wring my hands for a day and then return to normal life simply because it was not my family that lost a loved one. True compassion equals a search for understanding, and true love equals action. That means reading more than one news source before drawing a conclusion, that means recognizing when bias or lack of life experience has led to incorrect assumptions, that means condemning lies and hatred in one breath and asking "how can I help?" in the next breath.
Search for the balance between justice and forgiveness. Seek accountability with love as your motive, not desire to be "right." Find common ground with your fellow person, and remember who Jesus said is your neighbor. Perfect love will always cast out fear.
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