Jess: Well, as many people
have pointed out, that last week was quite a crap-fest. If you don't mind the
language, The Onion had a great commentary on it.
Fear can be a great motivator. We talk about “fight or flight” all the time. When we’re scared about something, it causes us to take action—to protect ourselves by fleeing or to fight against that which we fear. Healthy fear causes us to do all kinds of intelligent things: we lock the doors of our houses and cars for fear of those who might wish us harm; we set aside some “rainy day” money for fear that we might lose our livelihood unexpectedly; we teach our children not to talk to strangers for fear that something terrible will happen. These are all healthy uses of fear—we can keep the fear in check through our proactive response.
But then there is the flipside of fear. There is the debilitating, heart-stopping, terrifying fear that stops us from living our lives in a normal way. This is the fear that makes parents keep their kids home from school so that they won’t run into anything negative, the kind of fear that keeps us clinging to the guns we think will keep us safe, the fear that makes us see danger lurking everywhere. This is the kind of fear that inhibits us, and the only way I have found to get past this is to pray—most of the time through tears.
The other emotion that comes out during times like this last week is anger. And again, there are two kinds of anger. First, there is the anger that comes at seeing innocent people die because of the actions of one or many others. It makes us say things like Toby Keith after 9/11: “We’ll put a boot in your ass, it’s the American way.” I know that many people, myself included, felt this way. But if we have acted upon this anger, after it recedes we are left seeing ourselves as the attackers. We end up in 12 year wars that are impossible to withdraw from. We find ourselves as individuals attacking people who look like the attackers. And there is great regret and even more destruction. This is also the anger that drove the media to cover the events in Boston for almost 24 straight hours, ignoring the other events throughout the nation and world. It's how the events in West fell to the back burner (if that)--there was no one to blame, no one in whose ass we could put our boot.
Then there is the righteous anger. Some might say the first kind falls into this category, but I see that as more “gut-reaction anger.” This second kind is different. Righteous anger sees the attackers, the perpetrators, as people—misguided people but people nonetheless. Righteous anger is what can lead us to ask for mercy for those people. It can lead us to even press for reform in our laws, our education system, our mental health awareness and treatment. It is the kind of anger that said after 9/11, “We need more security in our airports.” This is the same kind of anger that leads us to help those in need when we hear how many people in this world are without daily sustenance.
Rob Bell has a great Nooma called Store about anger that talks about righteous anger—this anger directs itself not at the one or two people who do bad things but toward the systems that lead them to those conclusions. It looks not for retribution but restoration. It is the kind of anger Jesus had when he saw the hungry, the sick, and the lonely being mistreated. It leads us to change, not to retaliation and revenge. This is the anger I have right now…the anger that makes me want to make the world a safer place for my son. The anger that says, “What about all those people in West who have been ignored because of something that happened in another part of the country?” The anger that makes me question the mass media’s coverage of a manhunt in Boston, but neglects to talk about the millions of people who will die this year due to lack of clean water or proper nutrition or terrorist attacks in their own nations. This anger does something—this is the anger that changes the world for the better.
Wes: So, this is going to be a small taste of what I talked about in my churches on Sunday, because I feel that it is extremely important to point out, and not so easy to swallow.
Jesus called us to love our enemies.
Those are seven words that are easy to hear during easy times, and easy to pass over when reading the Sermon on the Mount, but they can be cutting when we hear them after a horrific event like what happened in Boston this past week. They can be near-impossible to hear when men and women commit heinous acts that forever change our lives and the lives of those around us. They can be the absolute last thing we want to hear when our rage induces thoughts of vengeance and retribution that cloud any other emotion and reaction.
But they are words we are called to follow, to live out.
That means that German Christians during World War II was called to love Hitler.
That means that the Father whose daughter was raped and killed is called to love her murderer.
That means that the church in the United States of America was called to love Bin Laden and the men who crashed airplanes full of people into the Twin Towers and the Pentagon.
And that means that today we are called to love the individuals--both deceased and in custody--who set off explosive devices at the finish line of the Boston Marathon.
And you know what, this is ridiculously hard. Because at the same time that we are called to be a people of justice who stand up for what is right and who lift up the oppressed and downtrodden, we are called to love the very people doing the wrong, doing the oppressing, doing the downtrodding. We don't have to sit idly by while evil runs rampant, but we are also not supposed to enact violence against violence or rejoice when it is done on our behalf.
In other words, the American way might be to "put a boot in their ass," but the Christian way is to love them through their actions, to see them as people like us--sinners desperately in need of grace.
And this is hard. I have to tell you, when I see violence like I saw this past week, it breaks my heart. I don't just get sad, or get down about the state of humanity. I get pissed off. I get angry. It is not right. People who would hurt others should be stopped.
I think about what it might be like if it had been one of my friends who was killed... one of my family members... my wife...
What if James had been the little boy who died in the blast?
Would I want justice? Absolutely. Would every bone in my body be crying out for the blood of the evil-doers? You know it. Would I want to see them face the same fate as those they so mercilessly killed? Yep. But I am called to something else. I am called to love. It is sometimes very, very hard, but that does not change the fact that Christ still calls me to that love.
So, I guess I'd ask that you join me in this struggle between justice and love, the struggle to which all Christians are called. Christ called us to love our enemies, and pray for those who persecute us. Let's pray for the Boston bombers, that God would show them the grace, mercy, and love which God has sent to us in droves.
That's all for now. Hopefully, this week will be better. Not just here in the USA, but all around the world. We could all use an easy week.
-wes and jess
Fear can be a great motivator. We talk about “fight or flight” all the time. When we’re scared about something, it causes us to take action—to protect ourselves by fleeing or to fight against that which we fear. Healthy fear causes us to do all kinds of intelligent things: we lock the doors of our houses and cars for fear of those who might wish us harm; we set aside some “rainy day” money for fear that we might lose our livelihood unexpectedly; we teach our children not to talk to strangers for fear that something terrible will happen. These are all healthy uses of fear—we can keep the fear in check through our proactive response.
But then there is the flipside of fear. There is the debilitating, heart-stopping, terrifying fear that stops us from living our lives in a normal way. This is the fear that makes parents keep their kids home from school so that they won’t run into anything negative, the kind of fear that keeps us clinging to the guns we think will keep us safe, the fear that makes us see danger lurking everywhere. This is the kind of fear that inhibits us, and the only way I have found to get past this is to pray—most of the time through tears.
The other emotion that comes out during times like this last week is anger. And again, there are two kinds of anger. First, there is the anger that comes at seeing innocent people die because of the actions of one or many others. It makes us say things like Toby Keith after 9/11: “We’ll put a boot in your ass, it’s the American way.” I know that many people, myself included, felt this way. But if we have acted upon this anger, after it recedes we are left seeing ourselves as the attackers. We end up in 12 year wars that are impossible to withdraw from. We find ourselves as individuals attacking people who look like the attackers. And there is great regret and even more destruction. This is also the anger that drove the media to cover the events in Boston for almost 24 straight hours, ignoring the other events throughout the nation and world. It's how the events in West fell to the back burner (if that)--there was no one to blame, no one in whose ass we could put our boot.
Then there is the righteous anger. Some might say the first kind falls into this category, but I see that as more “gut-reaction anger.” This second kind is different. Righteous anger sees the attackers, the perpetrators, as people—misguided people but people nonetheless. Righteous anger is what can lead us to ask for mercy for those people. It can lead us to even press for reform in our laws, our education system, our mental health awareness and treatment. It is the kind of anger that said after 9/11, “We need more security in our airports.” This is the same kind of anger that leads us to help those in need when we hear how many people in this world are without daily sustenance.
Rob Bell has a great Nooma called Store about anger that talks about righteous anger—this anger directs itself not at the one or two people who do bad things but toward the systems that lead them to those conclusions. It looks not for retribution but restoration. It is the kind of anger Jesus had when he saw the hungry, the sick, and the lonely being mistreated. It leads us to change, not to retaliation and revenge. This is the anger I have right now…the anger that makes me want to make the world a safer place for my son. The anger that says, “What about all those people in West who have been ignored because of something that happened in another part of the country?” The anger that makes me question the mass media’s coverage of a manhunt in Boston, but neglects to talk about the millions of people who will die this year due to lack of clean water or proper nutrition or terrorist attacks in their own nations. This anger does something—this is the anger that changes the world for the better.
Wes: So, this is going to be a small taste of what I talked about in my churches on Sunday, because I feel that it is extremely important to point out, and not so easy to swallow.
Jesus called us to love our enemies.
Those are seven words that are easy to hear during easy times, and easy to pass over when reading the Sermon on the Mount, but they can be cutting when we hear them after a horrific event like what happened in Boston this past week. They can be near-impossible to hear when men and women commit heinous acts that forever change our lives and the lives of those around us. They can be the absolute last thing we want to hear when our rage induces thoughts of vengeance and retribution that cloud any other emotion and reaction.
But they are words we are called to follow, to live out.
That means that German Christians during World War II was called to love Hitler.
That means that the Father whose daughter was raped and killed is called to love her murderer.
That means that the church in the United States of America was called to love Bin Laden and the men who crashed airplanes full of people into the Twin Towers and the Pentagon.
And that means that today we are called to love the individuals--both deceased and in custody--who set off explosive devices at the finish line of the Boston Marathon.
And you know what, this is ridiculously hard. Because at the same time that we are called to be a people of justice who stand up for what is right and who lift up the oppressed and downtrodden, we are called to love the very people doing the wrong, doing the oppressing, doing the downtrodding. We don't have to sit idly by while evil runs rampant, but we are also not supposed to enact violence against violence or rejoice when it is done on our behalf.
In other words, the American way might be to "put a boot in their ass," but the Christian way is to love them through their actions, to see them as people like us--sinners desperately in need of grace.
And this is hard. I have to tell you, when I see violence like I saw this past week, it breaks my heart. I don't just get sad, or get down about the state of humanity. I get pissed off. I get angry. It is not right. People who would hurt others should be stopped.
I think about what it might be like if it had been one of my friends who was killed... one of my family members... my wife...
What if James had been the little boy who died in the blast?
Would I want justice? Absolutely. Would every bone in my body be crying out for the blood of the evil-doers? You know it. Would I want to see them face the same fate as those they so mercilessly killed? Yep. But I am called to something else. I am called to love. It is sometimes very, very hard, but that does not change the fact that Christ still calls me to that love.
So, I guess I'd ask that you join me in this struggle between justice and love, the struggle to which all Christians are called. Christ called us to love our enemies, and pray for those who persecute us. Let's pray for the Boston bombers, that God would show them the grace, mercy, and love which God has sent to us in droves.
That's all for now. Hopefully, this week will be better. Not just here in the USA, but all around the world. We could all use an easy week.
-wes and jess
