"Do not speak until love is the motive." -Unknown
When I first started coaching, I knew I would encounter people of different cultures and faiths. I love that, and consider it a privilege. But I talk about Jesus a lot and I wanted to be sure everyone knew they didn't have to think like me to be welcome. In fact, I wanted them to be just as they are, and I promised I would do the same. I have said that, explicitly, thousands of times.
It's still true today, and it feels important to say that the same principle extends into the political arena — except where cruelty, harm and contempt reign. Those are not welcome and they never will be.
And what I really need right now is a wise answer to the following question:
How do I be a responsible, compassionate US citizen, while staying focused on my loved ones and my work, without eating a bag of Lay's emotional support chips every day?
Maybe you need an answer to that too. Even if you think I'm wrong, let's talk about it.
He who says he's in the light and hates his brother is in the darkness still. 2John 2:9
I read the news lately with horror, and I'm afraid We The People have big trouble on our hands. When I feel this way I have three go-to reactions: Go numb, go furious, or go holy.
- Numb feels irresponsible though, because this is a Republic.
- Fury feels dangerous because I fear becoming what I oppose.
- Holy is the only path that makes sense, but it feels impossible — and if I'm honest, a little ineffective.
It's not that there's no place for fury - Jesus was furious in the Temple. The prophets were furious at the sin of the people. Archbishop Tutu was furious at Apartheid, but all of them stayed obedient to their mission and faithful to their values.
So is a holy path impossible, or is it just a really difficult one that requires narrow-path faith?
I prayed for answers to how to do it, and got three.
1. Recommit to human dignity, truth & non-violence.
Guess where that starts?
If I'm contemptuous toward others, I'm part of the problem. Jesus himself said "whoever insults his brother will be liable to the council; and whoever says, ‘Raca' will be liable to the hell of fire.
Raca is sometimes translated "idiot." In Aramaic, it meant empty-headed, stupid or inferior. It was an offensive way to show utter contempt for another person. Jesus said don't do it.
Perhaps we should all take a moment and let that one sink in, maybe while humming the National Anthem.
It is possible to disagree without contempt. It just appears we've forgotten how. Alas, I'm not on the streets in Minneapolis, I'm sure it would be harder if I were. Still.
2. Pray — a lot.
I pray for people (and animals) who are suffering everywhere. Then I pray for the administration. Not because I want to, but because Jesus requires me to.
Jesus says, we overcome evil with good, and while that feels about as effective as calling my Senators to share my thoughts, I don't get to pick and choose when Jesus is right. Either he is or he isn't, and just because I can't see the overcoming, doesn't mean it's not happening.
Afterward, I'm freer to pray for people I know who are struggling, or for whom I'm just really thankful. This takes the focus off me, which makes me more effective in my day.
3. Don't allow national chaos to colonize your interior.
When we're upset, nervous system regulation is key. Tending to it is our responsibility.
Tony Robbins is famous for saying "see the problem as it is, but not worse than it is." That doesn't minimize the issues at hand, it keeps us from freezing in the face of them — from numbing.
Media makes money by amplifying crisis, and attention is currency. So set limits and don't give it any more attention than you decide to. Get informed, then go outside to see who's there and what's up. Maybe drink tea.
Regimes always want us to fight each other so we don't turn and fight them. That's why knowing your neighbors and having IRL friends is so important. Belonging somewhere is powerful medicine for all sorts of ills.
As a reminder, "blessed are the peacemakers" means entering places where there is no peace, and making it.
That too is an inside job — at least at first.
Of course
I wish I didn't have to do any of this, I'd rather be at brunch; and I'd love to say this struggle is new, but it's not. Minorities and marginalized communities have been in this fight forever.
But when we do the work to remove contempt from our mouths and make peace within ourselves, what do you think happens when we go outside? It may not go well, but it will probably go better.
Once, I had a conversation about white privilege and race, at a retreat, with a woman who sees both topics differently from me. We talked gently at the table for an hour. Then we drank champagne. Later, she asked me for some book titles I'd mentioned.
Our values held.
All this to say, if you need a warm place to stay humbly human, curious and focused on love, you are welcome here. We can practice together.
Responses