Identity, Love, and The Other

A non-Christian in church.

       A fat person in a gym.
               A smoker… well almost anywhere these days.  
                       A disabled woman moving slower than the crowd.

                                A homeless guy in line at McDs…

Have you ever been in a room and felt like everyone wanted you to be different than you were?

What if the entire system you were in considered you an outsider?

Prior to these last few months I apparently had my head in the sand, thinking that racism was mostly dead other than a few extremists on the fringe. But oh no, I have been wrecked with tears as racism has reared its ugly head right on my newsfeed. And from some who bear the same religious name I do – blinded by their entitlement to the harm their pride spews on others. I am ashamed. It pains me so!

And then the same fear, assumptions, and hate continue to come through against our homosexual brothers and sisters, too.  I am crushed that many who wave the banner of Christ cannot see the GOOD in treating ALL people with the same respect we desire for ourselves, and the indiscriminant love that God lavishes freely on us. How can we receive and preach that indiscriminant, unconditional love, but not truly bestow it extravagantly as Christ has taught us?!

Being greatly saddened by all this, I have tried to sit in the shoes of “the other.”

…and it has brought me to my knees.

Maybe you can go there with me.

I’ve thought about what it feels like to have black skin and slave ancestry. To feel the sometimes subtle, but sometimes intense marginalization lurking every time I see the symbols of painful times not so long ago being revered. To be reminded that only a generation or two has passed since I was considered not equal, not worthy, or not even human, and that some fellow Americans obviously still hold those beliefs about me. About me. Just because of my skin. To feel that wherever I go, I have to try to fit in the mold of another in order to gain respect.

I’ve thought about what it feels like to be gay. To have my sexuality and romance be set aside and dismissed, or even degraded and vilified. To have my desire for a loving spouse and family to be considered abnormal, even perverted.  To have my voice to explain myself, and my fight to be recognized equally be shunned – even by those who are not that different than I.  To be completely misunderstood and ostracized by the culture I live in. To feel that I need to act differently than who I am around many groups of people in order to maintain respect.

If I were gay, or black, or   (any “other”) , how would I feel living in my own town of Richardson, TX? in other places I have lived, like Alabama or Louisiana? Would I feel fully respected? Equally treated? Welcomed, wanted, loved? Or would I struggle – with my identity, worthiness, and shame?

I don’t know for sure, but I can surmise. I DO know it would not be easy. And I fully acknowledge that I have not considered how hard that would be until recently.

You see, these issues we’re having – these issues I’m having - are not about beliefs, or right and wrong.

No, it’s about WHO WE ARE - at the core.

When we struggle with issues over race, sexual identity, religion, body size - or any other labels, we are struggling with identity and we fail to understand one important truth:  WE ARE ALL THE SAME. We are all MESSED UP, but we are all BEAUTIFUL, WONDERFUL CREATIONS of GOD, and we are ALL CONNECTED!

There was a time when Christians went to war, killing hundreds of thousands of people in the Crusades – in the name of God. They believed they were doing the right thing. They believed they were doing what God wanted. THEY WERE WRONG. Thank God it stopped!

But I’m afraid we have a modern-day version of the Crusades happening right in our midst.

When Jesus taught his revolutionary, upside down gospel, he broadened the meaning of “Do not murder” to include the way we talk to one another and think and feel about one another. (Matthew 5)

When our own sense of moral entitlement and exclusivity breeds disregard for others experiences – labeling and judging without knowing them, make them feel less than we are, or worse, spew hatred -- we are doing nothing less than murdering our own brothers and sisters, the beloved of God.

 

Ouch, a harsh reality. How awful I feel to know what I have done!

Even if we believe we are doing the right thing. Even if we believe we are doing what God wants. WE ARE WRONG. And it must stop.

When we try to control others and make them more like us, we are murdering them, not loving them.

When that person comes in a room and feels the judgment, we are murdering them, not loving them.

 

But there is good news. We can choose a different way.
Love includes compassion, empathy, and humility.

So, Who are you at the core? Who am I at the core?

You are that smoker, the addict.

       I am that non-Christian in a church.
              We are that fat person in the gym.
                      I am the disabled woman.
                             You are the homeless man.

We all are black, gay, republican, female, Muslim, white, democrat, male, straight, Christian, Jewish…  and loved deeply by God.

We can choose empathy and sit in the shoes of the other. We can choose compassion and stop the judgment, the murdering. And we can choose humility and apologize to our brothers and sisters.

 

And then – and only then – we can start truly loving.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Some links I recommend:

Gabe Lyons and Andrew Sullivan Share Apology
Shane Claiborne: What To Do With My Confederate Flag?