Republicans for Dinner

On Saturday evening, I found myself at what can only be described as a Republican dinner party. Being a Democrat, a Labour voter, and a passionate Obama supporter, I kept my mouth shut and hoped the subject of conversation would change.

It didn’t, and as the topic grew in heat as five slighted McCain supporters discussed the inauguration of their rival, I wondered how it could be that such good-hearted, like-minded Christians could have such polar opposite political views to me.

I know I have blogged before about Tony Campolo and the Red Letter Christians. I still feel the fresh excitement of having found a group of people who can so eloquently express what it is that I believe in myself. And they are not just a one-off group of small-time token spiritual activists, but an entire political movement that spans churches and people groups across the United States. Their faith in Jesus is paralleled by their passion for social justice. They consider Jesus – as do many other religions, spiritualists and other people who claim no one faith – as one of the pioneers of integrity, justice, the goodness of humanity and the advancement of righteousness. In adopting their label, Red Letter Christians, this movement of evangelical rebels declares their mission of following exactly what Jesus taught in the New Testament, where dated copies of the Bible print Jesus’ words in red letters.

Saturday night was a test of my priorities. Where killing babies is so clearly wrong, I cannot believe that ostracising women who have made that heart-rending choice is what Jesus would do. Similarly, acts of terrorism are despicable deeds of hatred, but that hatred has a root and a reason and revenge is a cross-cultural event that cannot be categorised as ‘different’ by terms of culture or religion. I shudder at the memory of fear from September 11th or July 7th. But I understand the powerlessness and frustration of poverty and oppression; the helplessness of being a pawn in the global politics of manipulation and control, where rich nations hold the reigns, and pull them to keep poor nations dependent.

Driving home, I pondered the evening: should I have declared my thoughts, presented my argument, laid my cards on the table? I am (disdainfully) proud to be political; I know I look down from my politics on those I consider as 'still on the way'. Ignorance quickens my heartbeat in frustration, but hypocricy makes my skin crawl. Being right, being understood, or being recognised for my thoughts should never be my priority where people are my world. I may rant against what I consider to be wrong, but I will love my friends, despite their views.

I Chase The Truth

It is with a heavy heart that I embrace this Monday morning, watching the rain rolling in across the rooftops of the town as I ponder and mull this last weekend, seeking to label and box the multitude of experiences and feelings I carry from it. Such sadness overwhelms me as I identify what I feel: disgust at the weakness that is often mankind. But it is with a certain new-found strength that I realise the overwhelming emotion prompted by my feelings: determination to feed my soul, chase the truth and speak it out, despite the fears.

My traditional-church upbringing still chases me with shadows I fight to conquer. With each ghost that I destroy, I see a little more truth and goodness behind an experience I otherwise summarise as destructive. There was love where I saw expectation; there was generosity where I saw conditional gifts of persuasion. There was kind advice where I saw judgement and there was compassion where I saw only betrayal.

But today the ghost is not dead and the anger is fresh; there was not honesty. We did not talk of what went wrong or how, the reality of unforgiveness and the capability to wound that wounded people are capable of, how trials are not sins and can be shared, how sins are common and not absolute. We did not talk of the pitfalls or failings of the leaders, and when they failed us, we were lost. We did not talk of the commonality of temptations and when we were tempted, we were alone with no one but Guilt for companionship. Life is hard and must be worked at in a team, we were told. Now go home alone and reflect on that until next Sunday. This silence is a wall against hope; suppressing humanity does not make it good. Ignoring temptation simply feeds its power.

Today, we have lost two people to dishonesty. People are my life. It is with great sadness that I watch the rain, seeking to label and box the enormity of silence. It is with determination that I determine to be real. I chase the truth and pray for the strength to live it.