The past several months have taught each of us something about ourselves, or we are not paying attention. In our honest moments, we know what our coping mechanisms are, who our people are, and what must happen each day to keep us functioning at our best. For example, I am now certain that I am not called to homeschool my children. I have to get outside every day, and I want coffee ready when I get up. And, when it comes to news, I am a slow percolator.

Give me a setup for a good pun and I am on it immediately. A defiant attitude in my house and we will chat about it before the dust settles. If someone goes out of their way for me, a thank you card goes out in the mail the next day. But put me in front of live coverage of an attack on the US Senate, complete with images of a noose, crosses, confederate flags, and anti-Semitic t-shirts? I have to sit with that for a long while before I have a coherent response.

Do not get me wrong, I am not on the fence about whether or not that was an appropriate action or not. Or whether it is an insult to the American flag (it was). The entire event was unconscionable from beginning to end. Hard stop.

And by no means am I decrying those quick to articulate a response to these atrocities with speed and accuracy. What I find frustrating in the wake of, yet another event of national and international consequence is the public call for loud opinions to be shared promptly and with or without due reflection, coupled with the accusation that a lack of opinion shared is the equivalent of approval of said event or cause.

I am hungry for thoughtful (prayerful?) responses in place of the easy answers and snap judgments that ping their way around the interwebs. We are long past the grieving of dialogue, and yet the only way to return to that place has to be to stop yelling into the vacuum of like-minded opinions and to converse thoughtfully and respectfully with those who see the world differently than we do, without judgment.

We have been here before

As a parent, it is easy to lament the rocky road ahead for all of us, our children in particular, given the events of this past month/year(s). And yet, we have been here before over and again, sadly. The circumstances are different. The only thing unchanging is our lack of creativity in responding in a thoughtful way. What do I mean?

I can think of a couple of examples where we have found ourselves responding similarly, though there are likely hundreds more.

Women’s movement

First, the women’s liberation movement: Before you exit and decide I have lost my mind or any right to call myself a “feminist,” or that I wasn’t also moved by the election of the first female Vice President yesterday, hear me out. The women’s movement was necessary and voiced important and overdue complaints about unequal treatment, pay, and abuse that had long gone unspoken and, unheard. The message was that women are equal to their male counterparts and that we deserve equal access to education, careers, pay, representation, benefits, and freedom from harassment. It was a demand for what men had become accustomed to enjoying in this country. In a nutshell: That our girls could grow up confidently in a world that would see their full potential. Bravo!

The unexpected side effect of this female-centered movement was that it left boys behind in its wake. Given the events of the past year, you rightly may have lingering doubts about whether or not the patriarchy has dissipated. However, have you observed boys/men being encouraged to be whatever they wish alongside their female counterparts? Have you noticed any library displays near you heralding male role models in history? College attendance, career choice, and men’s suicide and mental health have had an inverse effect compared to that of women and girls ever since the seventies.

*If you are unsure about this correlation, or if you have children, nephews, grandchildren, or students, give this insightful TED Talk a listen, or watch  The Red Pill, and see if there might be a glimmer of truth in it.

I am all for pushing forward the cause of treating women with their God-given dignity but not by underplaying or denying the experiences or inherent dignity that is also due to men.

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Church Politics

The Church is another prime example. Those of us who have paid attention to Church politics for any amount of time know that there is a pendulum that swings wildly every few decades, between conservatism and liberalism. Whichever voice is en vogue at the time works hard to be the only voice heard, thereby caricaturing (at best) or villainizing (at worse) the opposing approach to embodied Gospel living. Each time we silence a different perspective, we pay a cost even when we might not be able to identify it at the time. To pigeon-hole the Body of Christ is to undercut the diverse ways we are invited to live the Gospel.

In turn, the whole world suffers when the Body of Christ joins the cacophony of bullhorns promoting their agenda. The repercussions are vast. We are a Church that thrives on both/and thinking over either/or. We need both soup kitchens and liturgy of the hours; Eucharistic adoration and care for creation; a consistent ethic of life that is willing to speak up for babies in utero and on behalf of someone’s baby on death row. 

To lose what either perspective brings is to lose largely.

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You name it

You pick the topic in present-day America (race/religion/politics), and we see vast division. Cancel culture, or negating an entire person/company/community because of their current or once-held worldview, is in full force right now. Each position is vying for the ability to silence all opposing views. Where this has particular significance is in our collective efforts to raise the voices of those who have been marginalized so that we might hear the stories that should have been told long ago and learn from them.

The instinct to elevate, honor, and listen to the voices of those who have been marginalized or under-represented is essential, good, and overdue! These stories and experiences that have been told in a whisper, or worse yet, silenced, deserve to be heard with attention and respect. The stories that challenge our experience deserve our reflection. And, if we learn anything from our history, we must be on the lookout for our inadvertent oversight. What are we at risk of losing when selecting who has a ‘worthy’ voice or perspective to contribute? In other words, what success stories exist because of the extinguishing of one racial/religious/political worldview?

Spoiler alert: None. 

Very quickly, this exclusive mentality moves into dangerous territory that smacks of censorship, or worse. Our instinct to hold up what is charitable, good, and true, only works insofar as it recognizes the inherent dignity of all of those who hold opinions—no matter how distasteful they may be. Very few have walked this sacred ground holding the two in tension. No pithy Instagram post conveys what is asked of us on this level. Instead we defer this humble work to the professionals and exempt ourselves. 

The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult, and left untried.” –G.K. Chesterton

Where do we go from here?

I was at a conference years ago and had the pleasure of listening to a speaker on Catholic Social Teaching that began by describing the chaotic scene of his three daughters jumping on a bed. We can easily picture the boisterous scene. It did not take long before one of his daughters tumbled off and cracked her head on a table in the room. As a loving parent, he went with full concern to the daughter who was injured to attend to her immediate needs. He did not do this because he did not care about his other children, or loved them any less. He rightly acknowledged that his bleeding daughter’s needs were more immediate than theirs.

Understandably the other children were upset because of what they had seen and required consoling. Once care had been administered to the injured girl, the father was free to console and reassure his other children. Were they responsible for their sister’s fall? Would she be OK? They were relieved to know she was alright, and to talk about how they might avoid such a situation in the future. Not to mention they were relieved not to have to process the frightening experience, alone. 

This is the heart of what it means to have a preferential option for the poor

I think the American conscience is attempting this, at least in part. That we are culturally rushing toward the hurt and the need is hopeful, Christ-like, even. The dots that still need to be connected are the continued love and support for those who are not currently injured. We are right to address the immediate harm done. What are the needs of those who have witnessed the harm of these recent events, perhaps even participated in them; but have not been harmed directly? How do we lift them, too?

How are we to rise, if not together?

Preferential option for the poor is not always a popular topic. As you can imagine, it has caused some of us to fear (or resent) not being among the ‘preferred.’ Is it possible that God would not prefer us, we worry? Instead of adopting a theology of abundance and mercy that we profess with our lips, we have an unfortunate tendency to take matters into our own hands and try to hustle for a limited amount of grace and mercy (theology of scarcity). This is our hang-up. In the process, we can harm others by way of proving our ‘preferredness.’

And there is an essential truth for us in it. There is no need to hustle to get close to the heart of God—God wants each of us, wholly. God desires the good of all, not at the expense of some. There is a rich history of God staying close to those who have suffered greatly. We are on the right track by doing the same. Acknowledging the ways we operate out of a fear to be heard by God or anyone else, is to be aware of our tendency to hustle unnecessarily. It seems to me that we find ourselves at an ‘all or nothing’ crossroads once more: How do we move ahead without running the risk of leaving folks behind?

Cheers to a New Year, to a posture of thoughtful listening, and a theology bigger than our fears.

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Other pieces around the web recently:

Visitation Moment

Maybe like me, you had your Visitation moment and felt something deep within you leap for joy when you first heard the expression: ‘The glory of God is the human person fully alive.’

Let that sink in for a moment…read on.

Elizabeth Ann Seton

In the hope of all that new years and new calendar pages bring, 2021 is pregnant with possibility. Inspired by Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton, would that we be attentive to our own callings within callings! Maybe this is what will get us though the lingering wait, believing that our gifts and talents add a particular value for this time, as surprising as we ourselves might find it.

In a season that has made us all students, and many teachers, perhaps Saint Elizabeth’s intercession is just what we need at the dawn of a New Year…read on.

Lent is coming…

The post All or Nothing appeared first on Unexpected Honey.

In our game and movie cabinet, I recently came upon the complete Cosby Show series. As a kid I loved it. As an adult, I continue to have a soft spot in my heart for the Huxtable family. Just like I tuned in for years to NPR’s Prairie Home Companion to listen to the News from Lake Wobegone, or turned to one of my faith heroes Jean Vanier, for inspiration. I still enjoy these bits of wit and wisdom, though I find that they have become somewhat tainted, off-limits; changed because of the allegations that have come out in past years. And that is real–things have changed. Where do we go from here?

Maybe you have found yourself in this position, too–wondering how or if you can ever return to a place you knew, a source of joy or wisdom figure you sought; or at least a place of peace–knowing what we know now? Perhaps you have even wondered if your own life would measure up to public scrutiny in this current climate? I know I have.

Are we only as good as our best days? If not, what of the rest of our lives? Does a bad choice/litany of bad choices negate all else that we have to offer?

Right or wrong, this stark, automatic shut down mentality has been long in coming, and is (at least in part) the result of ‘cancel culture.’ According to dictionary.com, “Cancel culture refers to the popular practice of withdrawing support for (canceling) public figures and companies after they have done or said something considered objectionable or offensive. Cancel culture is generally discussed as being performed on social media in the form of group shaming.” Ultimately this comes from a place of activism, I think, and speaking truth to power certainly has its place. In a country where money talks, it is an effective means of making a statement and shutting folks down.

But just which statement are we making, I wonder?

Big Questions

I have been asking myself big questions for a while now, particularly in the wake of the rioting that took hold after George Floyd’s death (and so many others). These events have called into question those elected to contemporary positions of authority and the lives of leaders that we have memorialized as a country. In the process, statues that have been toppled, schools and landmarks re-named; in many cases wrestling with how to proceed in hopes of elevating the lives of those living by exemplary standards while denigrating those whose choices have reflected (repentant and unrepentant) bad judgment, unethical decision making, harm to others, etc.

“We do better when we know better.”

Who honestly has not had to take this to heart this year and learn/unlearn/re-learn things, and ask forgiveness for things we ought to have known all along? Without a doubt, these are difficult and important questions to ask. Hear me say that. It is more than good to question the attributes of good leadership, to hold up those who meet and model high standards and to include the names of those whose good moral character has been either culturally or historically overlooked. Just as it is crucial to hold folks accountable for practicing acts of violence, coercion, hate, deceit, racism, manipulation, etc. There is no shortage of examples where silence or greed around these kinds of unspeakable acts have played out and done harm to all involved: Fraud, embezzlement, blatant disregard for human life, the sex abuse scandal in the Church, within the media, among politicians, etc.

As if that’s not muddy enough, here is where things start to get complicated, particularly if you are of the Christian persuasion:

We hold tightly to the belief that we are not defined by our worst act.

Sister Helen Prejean and Bryan Stevenson who have been working tirelessly with those on death row for decades, name the same belief: “We are more than our worst act.” They have been highly criticized for speaking mercy in instances where it has and has not been ‘deserved.’ Why? Because we are uncomfortable and unpracticed at lavishing undeserved mercy. Maybe because it is easier to watch from a distance (Dead Man Walking, Just Mercy) than to apply mercy in our own lived experiences or to those around us. Maybe this is so because we have not experienced it ourselves. We sleep soundly, assured by the fact that they ‘deserve’ it. And, if the tables were turned, we too, would find ourselves begging for the grace of undeserved mercy.

“Justice is getting what you deserve. Mercy is not getting what you deserve. Grace is getting what you don’t deserve.“

No answers

In no way do I mean to suggest that everyone should get an automatic do-over, to move forward as though nothing of significance has happened. That is the textbook definition of insanity. What I will say is that there is a cost associated with throwing out the assigned value of a person (their inherent dignity) based on their inability to live in a state of moral perfection. At this rate, there will come a day when no one will be left standing on the moral high ground–and not because we are intrinsically bad. It is simply because we are not God, and therefore find ourselves dependent upon the necessity of giving and receiving grace.

(This is why the practice of Confession/Reconciliation has the status of Sacrament in the Catholic tradition: It is an outward sign of an experienced grace that we will need over and over again until we die.)

As Christians, we cannot simply “cancel” those who have disappointed us, or even those we have found ourselves disgusted by. We can dialogue, critique, cancel our subscription to an organization, pray for conversion (our own included), and bust our butts to communicate grace and mercy by our lives, but it is audacious and heretical to dis-assign value to a human life in the name of ethics.

“Jesus bent down and began to write on the ground with his finger. But when they continued asking him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” Again he bent down and wrote on the ground. And in response, they went away one by one, beginning with the elders. So he was left alone with the woman before him. Then Jesus straightened up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She replied, “No one, sir.” Then Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go, [and] from now on do not sin any more.” -John 8: 6b-11

Plenty of opportunities for growth

I am finding it difficult in this era of fear, accusations, and political campaigns where comments can be flung carelessly and anonymously in seconds, to feel as though something is not being lost in translation. Sure it’s easy to cite Scripture and write people off as saints (or crazy), but in this increasingly post-Christian America, is there room for grace? And if there is, where and with whom is it to be found?

There is too much at stake to operate in an all or nothing mentality where we cannot even live up to our own standards. Can we always do better? That goes without saying. And it is crucial for each of us, leaders or not, to operate in a way that is respectful and worthy of trust, to act with integrity, and an expectation of accountability. Or, I suspect as people of faith we will quickly find ourselves irrelevant if our instincts are not first and foremost to recognize the array of image-bearers in our midst, inconveniently broken and wrapped in flesh, like us. I recognize that it is an especially contentious election year and practicing this will be especially hard. And I believe that we can do hard things.

Come Holy Spirit.

I really only love God as much as I love the person I love the least. -Dorothy Day

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Within the confines of pandemic, fueled by fear, racial unrest and near-constant social media/news coverage, each of us is understandably reaching for the resources we have to cope with the realities flashing daily before our eyes. Where some have found comfort in sourdough starters, new pets, or staying physically active, in our house none of our resources for coping feels more applicable than Theology, of all things.

Let me explain.

At its core (and in the words of St. Anselm) Theology  is “faith seeking understanding.” In this way we can always be learners, which feels like a healthy way to approach just about anything worthy of our attention. At first glance, Theology is hubris—to think that we can study the nature of God has struck an uncomfortable nerve from time to time. Of course we can observe how God is, which tells us a great deal about who God is, and this is essential. Particularly in times that require us to call deeply upon what we hold most precious within our core, sitting in quiet with who we know God to be, is mooring.

Uncertain Times

While there are plenty of thing I cannot tell you with certainty in these uncertain times, I can tell you that this work of ‘seeking understanding’ is reverberating through me in the wake of George Floyd’s death (and the deaths of so many others). As a white woman, raised ‘Minnesota nice,’ grappling with the deeply-embedded nature of our nation’s continued biases, that have frankly escaped my attention, has left me wondering how to respond in a meaningful way, and, more importantly how to proceed.

What I have come back to is the constant need to learn, basically to seek understanding of an experience that is unfamiliar to my own. Seeking is an active verb. It’s the same word we use to describe the way the Magi sought the child Jesus.  I’ve hemmed and hawed about needing something meaningful to contribute, and maintaining quiet so others can share their perspectives that are far more relevant on the subject than my own; and finally needing to continue moving with the momentum that is calling forth change.

Examining what we clasp tightly

In typical fashion, I’ve responded first by reading (and watching, and listening. I’ll include suggestions below). Of course, this is a luxury to learn from books rather than difficult realities, but it’s a place to begin and it must be done. I have to say the response from organizations from libraries to Netflix has opened my eyes to just how little of my resources have been written /produced by those who do not look like me or share my life experience. My cart at the library is full of books I have not read before, and I’m delighted by a need to wait for them because so many who are also seeking a new understanding.

At our core, perhaps we are all doing a bit of theology, then? Holding up what we clasp tightly be true about God and about ourselves, paring it down and allowing our understanding of the Reign of God on Earth to be shaped to include the voices of others in this same time and place—others who have suffered mistreatment, prejudice, violence, and suspicion, while I naively assured myself those times are long gone.

Seeking

We were able to attend Mass this weekend and there was one moment that stood out to me as an invitation to move forward. Toward the end of the Liturgy of the Eucharist, one of the ushers gestured to the deacon that a frail gentleman in the back had been missed during communion and had not received Eucharist. Immediately, the Deacon moved to the back of the church where the elderly gentleman sat and received the Body of Christ.

In our parish, it is common practice to go to, to seek out those who are physically unable to process forward for communion, to be on the lookout and attentive to ensure participation of each gathered member. On Sunday, I couldn’t help but feel that was a metaphor for the response needed from the Christian community moving forward in our country from this place of pain and silence regarding long-standing racism and prejudice that clearly still exists. Certainly this is needed as we go out in to the world as a best practice.

Holding up the mirror

Whose voices, opinions, ideas are we missing? More than likely–perhaps most importantly–we have work to do within ourselves and definitely in our own faith communities. Holding up the mirror for ourselves and the communities we hold most dear is hard, important work.

To do it well, to do in such a way that seeks to understand, it must be swift, intentional, humble, and consistent. This is core to our identity as a people made in the image and likeness of God. Let it be so.

Come Holy Spirit.

Resources:

Reconciling the Body of Christ, podcast

I’m Still Here, Austin Channing Brown

Selma, movie

Just Mercy, movie

We Are the Church, podcast

We’re Not Going Back to Normal: Who Will We Be When This Is Over, podcast

On my bookshelf: The Hate You Give, Angie Thomas. Also a movie.

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Announcements:

**While the publication date for my book has been moved back, I’m thrilled to let you know that I’ve been working on a digital booklet that is available today! Because they’re digital, copies are available here for only $2.95! **

Because of the new pattern of time we’re experiencing due to coronavirus, Sundays can be even more difficult to really celebrate amidst the rest of our time spent at home. I put this booklet together in hopes of making Sundays feel set apart from the blur of other days this summer. The booklet consists of ten possible Sabbath themes intended to be used as a springboard for conversation and deeper reflection individually, and particularly as a family. Each theme consists of a short reflection, Scripture verses, activity ideas, discussion ideas and a prayer for that day. I would love to hear if/how you incorporate these ideas into your summer routines, please share if you are so inclined. #celebratingsummersundays

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In case you missed it, I shared about Everyday Evangelization at Blessed Is She on June 22:

If your friend circles include folks who are Protestant, chances are that you have had the privilege of listening to them share their testimony—a personal accounting of how they committed their lives to Christ by accepting Jesus into their hearts. Perhaps you’ve even been invited to tell your story. I know I have! And truly, this is a fantastic practice, albeit often less practiced for Catholics…keep reading.

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