Would I be going too far if I started this blog post by admitting that our nation is a mess? I know that people from other countries look at what is happening here and just shake their heads in disbelief. I honestly wonder if God does the same. I have only walked this earth for 40 years, but I have never seen our nation so divided.
We all see the polarization that has become more and more profound in the past decade and especially the past year. People “on the left” claim that the right has gotten dangerously too conservative. People “on the right” claim that the left is more liberal than ever. We throw out names like “socialist” and “racist” and I honestly think many among us presume that if someone we know is voting differently than we are, then they automatically fit into one of these extremes.
As our political parties have drifter further right and further left, so have we. And as we have moved, often unknowingly, the gap between us has become larger and larger. At a national level, chances of compromise and collaboration between Republicans and Democrats have gotten lower and lower. At a personal level, chances of really coming together relationally with people who sit in a different political space has become more and more unlikely.
How did we get here? Why does it matter?
There are so many factors that have contributed to where we are in this moment in history. But I believe one of the biggest is the fact that we have stopped listening to each other. Whether we are willing to admit it, we have decided within ourselves who we are going to listen to and even more so who we are not going to listen to.
We have found our camp and set up our tents.
We have staked out the landscape and planted our poles deeply in the camp we feel fits us best. We have found our platform. We have decided on our television station. We have selected the news source that will receive our total allegiance. We have selected friends who will affirm and support what we have decided is wholly true. We stay firmly in our tents.
And because the distance is so far between us and the person in the other camp, because our television, our newspaper and our friends are all affirming that those on the other side are monsters, we feel justified and morally correct is remaining safely where we are. Why would we take the risk of leaving? After all, “those people” are dangerous. And as we sit there longer, we feel less and less dissonance when we ignore them, mock them, accuse them, and ultimately shun them.
Obviously, I exaggerate. But as the months have dragged on, I believe I exaggerate less and less. I get it—it’s so much easier to just listen to the voices of people we agree with; people who are “like us.” And I will admit, in this time of ongoing crisis and trauma, it takes a lot more energy than ever before to engage in conversation with people who disagree with us. It is much harder to have the difficult conversations, and to have our beliefs challenged. So, our natural response is to limit who we listen to and who has access to our minds and hearts.
But isn’t that what got us into this mess in the first place? And isn’t this contrary to the posture of discipleship we see in the Bible? When Jesus came on the scene, He did not come as a cheerleader to pat his people on the back and say: “you are doing great!” No, when Jesus came, He came to flip everything upside down. He came to challenge beliefs and to offer a completely different path to life and true godliness. He came to challenge the status quo.
When Jesus came to the fishermen on the Sea of Galilee, He didn’t decide to camp there with them. He told them to leave everything and follow Him. He ushered them into a world where their securities were gone, and their assumptions were challenged. He called “good Jews” to live in deep community with tax collectors. He invited women to join him. He was creating a community where differences could not be ignored or villainized.
Christians, Church, how well are we following in the way of Jesus today?
It is not hard to see how this absence of listening affects our nation. When was the last time Congress really came together to support a bill? How often have Presidents of late courageously crossed political lines in support of legislation proposed by the other party? How many times has the government been shut down (or nearly shut down) because of an unwillingness to come together, build bridges, and compromise?
But the affects go far beyond the political sphere. They go right into the human heart. The bottom line is that when we refuse to leave our camp, we refuse to grow. And did God not say in His Word, that to be a Christian is to be forever transforming?
“Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship. Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” (Romans 12:1-2a NIV)
If we are so set in our theological or political beliefs that we are unwilling to even entertain other perspectives, we in affect say to God: “I did it! I was transformed so much that my mind is now renewed. Consider me in Christian retirement!” That statement is obviously ludicrous. The wisest, more undeniably loving people I know, are the older ones who are still learning, still growing. I want to be like them. I want to always be open to what God is teaching me.
People in their 70’s and 80’s who continue to exhibit this kind of growth mindset are some of the most wonderfully fascinating and trustworthy men and women I know. Unfortunately, there are also many of that age who seem to believe they have figured it all out and are no longer open to learning anything more or anything new. I don’t think it is an intentional hardening. I think it happens over time and often unknowingly.
A month before we got married, Clay and I were mentors on a month-long program with rising high school seniors. Part of the trip was a wilderness experience. For seven days we split into groups, with trained guides. We hiked, we bushwhacked, we camped, we cooked, we fasted. At the end of the seven days we came together again for our final gathering. About 50 mentors, students and guides sat together in a barn-like structure at base camp. There were a handful of other team members who had not been hiking, who stood outside the open doors and watched from the periphery. We assumed that they kept some distance so as not to be a distraction. We thought it was so that the focus could be on those who had actually experienced all the triumphs and challenges of the past week.
But that was not the case. When I talked to my friend Julie (the head of the program) after the ceremony was over, she told me the real reason they stayed outside: it was because we stunk!! Obviously, we smelled bad. After all, none of us had showered in 7 days. We had been hiking and sweating and digging in the dirt. But here’s the thing—those of us inside that barn had no idea. We were not repulsed by the smell because over the last 7 days, we had all gotten smelly together. What stunk to those outside of us was normal for us. It was a slow, unnoticed decline. And it took an outsider telling us the truth to realize it.
When we stay in our camps and never leave, we can sometimes form views that frankly “stink.” But sadly, because we never leave, we have no idea how unpleasant the odor has become.
When we are unwilling to listen to others, we miss out on the new things God is trying to teach us; we miss the opportunities He is wanting to give us. When we decide that our camp is the only good camp, our tent is the only good tent, nothing good can ever happen—not in government, not in relationships, and not in the Church.
Are we okay with this? I mean, are we truly grieving this fact? I would love to say that we are, especially in the church where we are called to love those who are different from us—even those who are our “enemies.” But when I look around me; when I read posts and responses of those I know and love on social media, I really start to wonder.
So, before we move on to talking about how we can really start to listen in love, I want us all to sit with this. I think of the question Jesus asked the blind beggar, Bartimaeus in Mark 10. When Bartimaeus hears that Jesus is walking his way he begs Him to have mercy on him. Jesus asks that he be brought to him. And Jesus asks him a question:
“’What do you want me to do for you?’ Jesus asked him. The blind man said, ‘Rabbi, I want to see.’” (Mark 10:51 NIV)
And immediately, Bartimaeus can see and responds by following Jesus.
My question for you is, do you really want to see? Are you really willing to see? I ask this question as much to myself as I do to you. Are we willing to see both sides, every side, or would we rather just sit in our tent and be blind and happy? What do you want Jesus to do for you? Do you want to see?