Observations and Hope

There’s a lot going on in this country. There are some good things – people speaking up, people figuring out what they are really about in good ways, people showing care for others, and more. These are encouraging things going on.

There’s plenty of not so great things happening as well. I’m not going to list them – I’m sure you are well aware of them.

I have a few observations in the midst of all of this. First, this is a time when people are showing who they really are and what it is that they actually believe. That’s not a bad thing overall. It makes it much easier actually. One of the things that I have observed is the prevalence of an ends justify the means operating system from many people. It’s the most common operating system in human history, so we shouldn’t be surprised when we see it happening here and now. The problem with ends justify the means way of living is that everyone and everything is disposable – even the people who live by this system. They fool themselves into thinking that they are somehow different or exempt though. When the ends justify the means, then there is no need to be consistent, or tell the truth, or refrain from violence or cruelty. It’s all about winning after all. And that means you are willing to stab the person who has been loyal to you in the back – you’re justified after all. The ends justify the means systems never end well. That’s because there is no trust. And trust is a vital component of civilization and society. Without truth, everything falls apart – it’s just a matter of how long and how much destruction there will be.

We’ve all heard about the debate over empathy. Frankly I can’t even believe there is a debate about empathy. That alone should tell everyone how fall off the path we have fallen. Is empathy a sin? Is it the weakness of Western Civilization? Are we really willing to tear everything down and burn it? For what? What do we gain? Oh right, it’s the ends justify the means, how could I forget. Christianity without empathy is nothing more than authoritarianism with blasphemy. Is Christianity about following Jesus and his way, or is it something else? If it is about Jesus, then empathy is a core part of it. You don’t need empathy though if Jesus isn’t the central core. I’d ask people to be honest about what the core of their Christianity is, but again, when people operate on an ends justify the means basis we shouldn’t expect people to be upfront and honest.

Donald Trump elicits a range of emotions from people. Most of the emotions I have observed range from those devoted to him and those who will listen to him at the exclusion of all others, all the way to the other end of the spectrum – sharing their fear and anxiety about him, all the way to their hatred for the man. The biggest observation about this is that we’ve made him into something else than who he is. Like a character in a show. A character that we can either love or hate, a hero or a villain. But someone who isn’t human anymore – something more distant.

How do I feel about him? I’m quite sad for the man. Here is a man who it seems has never had a healthy relationship with another human being. I could be wrong about that of course – I don’t know that for sure. It appears that all of his relationships are transactional in nature. How sad is that? How sad to never have a relationship with someone who just loves you unconditionally. How sad to never have a relationship with someone where there is no expectation of gain or loss. How sad to never have a relationship that isn’t about winning or losing. How sad to never have a relationship with someone that isn’t based on boosting your esteem by them conforming to your wants. Again, I could be way off. I’m merely observing what I see. I don’t hate the man, I’m sad for him. He seems empty inside, trying to fill a void and never succeeding. I can only imagine what such things do to a person – how they would shape a person. I can only imagine how much suffering this would create. I can only image what it’s like to never be satisfied – that has to be exhausting. I’m sad for him.

Another observation I have is how exhausting it is to hear a constant slew of excuses. There’s always an excuse, isn’t there? Always an excuse. The excuses aren’t even creative or good anymore. They are kind of lazy really. No accountability. No realization and growth. No responsibility. Just excuses and scapegoating. There’s always someone else to blame. There’s always an excuse. I wouldn’t expect a change of heart or mind. There’s been no inclination that anything like that will happen. In fact, there’s resistance to that. That would require admitting fault or error. And that’s not going to happen because it’s all based on the ends justify the means. It’s about winning, remember? They are going to do things their own way, even if it means destroying everything and everyone else in the process. But they will win at all costs. The bill is coming due for that. And it’s costly. And at some point the excuses won’t cover the tab.

So much to observe these days about so many things. I also observe myself – what is all this doing to me? I don’t know. It raises more questions than I have answers for. What is my role in this? What am I called to do? I don’t think I’m called to respond to the anger, hatred, fear, and cruelty with those same things. That sounds exhausting. I think I’m called to respond with love. That’s not fashionable of course. I’m realizing that loving in this time and context looks different than I expected. Having sadness for people like Donald Trump and the people he surrounds himself with is a form of loving. It forces me to see their humanity, to see that I’m capable of the very same things, yet for some reason, I am not going down the same path. Loving in this time and context means seeing the ends justifying the means operating system around us and deciding to offer an alternative. Loving in this time and place means embracing empathy. Loving right now means doing unpopular things that often make no sense.

Americans are horrible at talking about difficult topics. We are even worse when it comes to dealing with our own history. We think we can just ignore it, or rewrite it, or somehow erase it. Dealing with it is just too painful apparently. But imagine if we did. Imagine if we took on the pain – imagine how we would learn from our past, make adjustments, and maybe even improve life for folks. But we can be so very arrogant – thinking we are special and have no need of such things. Maybe arrogant isn’t the right word. Maybe we’re just afraid. Maybe we are afraid of what we would see in ourselves and what we are capable of doing – both good and terrible things. What are we afraid of? And what is that fear costing us?

That’s the real question that we never dive into. It’s the most important question. It’s why we keep going down these same paths over and over again. It’s a scary, terrifying question. Which is why we never ask it of ourselves or others. What are we afraid of? Instead, we let our fear bind us. We let our fears dehumanize us. We let our fears control what we do all the while telling ourselves that we are in control. Apparently we would rather lie to ourselves instead of deal with reality.

What are we afraid of? Because that’s what I observe more than anything else – we’re afraid. We’re afraid of the reality that we are not in control and that we just don’t know. We are afraid that we might be just like our enemies and those we hate. We are afraid that if we dealt with our past it might consume us. We are afraid of what we might lose. We are afraid of what those who are oppressed might do when they get into a position of power. We are afraid that our sins might catch up to us. We are afraid of looking in the mirror and seeing the consequences of what the ends justify the means really means. We are afraid.

But if we are following Jesus, then fear is not supposed to be our focus. “Be not afraid” is one of the most common refrains in Scripture. Death doesn’t get the final say. And fear doesn’t get to dictate who we are or what we do. Our past doesn’t dictate our future either. We have been given hope. Hope is seeing the reality of this time and place for what it is. It sees it with clear eyes and an open heart. Hope feels this time fully too. Hope sees beyond the sugarcoating. It sees the pain and suffering, the cruelty and violence. Hope sees it all. And hope says – there is a better way. And I’m taking you on it. Let’s go.

A part of hope is mourning. In order to mourn, you have to accept the reality of the past as it was. You also accept the reality of a myth that exists about the past. Mourning is about taking all that in and saying – what was is no more. Both the reality and the myth of the past. What we actually experienced and what we told ourselves happened. Mourning helps us to be fully present – to recognize that the past is behind us now. When we are fully present, then we can actually be open to the future, open to hope of a better way. Because it allows us to know where we are. We don’t forget the past. We learn from it – both the good and the terrible. The past shaped us after all. It made us who we are now. But it doesn’t get to dictate who we are becoming. Hope offers us a promise of not just a better way, but to become a better person – not perfect of course. And better doesn’t mean stronger, or with fewer bruises, or smarter, or younger. No, better means clearer eyes to see, a more vulnerable heart to feel, a mind that is more open, ears that listen differently, a faith that welcomes differences and learns from them. Hope moves us away from conformity and uniformity and towards wisdom, unity, and being able to see more of the image of God around us. Hope drags us into the future that God has planned – into a loving embrace for all of creation.