Quick to Listen, Slow to Speak
A few days ago at the National WW2 Museum in New Orleans, Dan and I were reminded of a time in Germany when a distinctly bellicose nationalistic voice came to power, convincing frustrated citizens that they could regain lost glory by carefully reordering society, purging the weak links and the "other" through unanimity of will. Find people to blame for everything and dig in. Create a society of people Exactly Like Us. It did not go well for the world.
We arrived home just in time to witness the simmering cauldron of American politics boil over, as a young man to whom we wouldn't give a second thought in line at Walmart climbed onto a roof and spilled the blood of the once, and likely future, president.
A spectator in the privileged area behind the dais will never return to his people, and two others are apparently in critical condition. Shocking, but not unprecedented, as you well know if you're old enough to remember 1968's assassinations of Dr. King and Robert Kennedy and the violence surrounding the Democratic National Convention in Chicago. There is no new thing under the sun. Political violence is rarely a finely targeted assault. There’s always collateral damage. Such an event begs for an examination of the culture that gave rise to it; allow me to suggest that we as individual Christians do some personal soul searching as well.
The apostle Paul admonishes the church in I Timothy, "that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people, for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way." And later, "I desire then that in every place the men should pray, lifting holy hands without anger or quarreling." Interesting that he chose to add that bit, isn't it? We may face issues we feel have strong moral imperatives, but then, first century Christians faced the imperial cult. Expressing outrage cannot set right the wrong we see before us, and Christians are called not to stoke the flame of discord. “The anger of men does not work the righteousness of God.” Swift to listen, slow to speak.
“But there’s so much obvious wrong in the world. Don’t I have an obligation to weigh in with my objection to it?” Perhaps. But rhetoric is contagious, and especially in the digital age, we cannot control upon whose ears our words fall. Every time I see someone I know and love post a sarcastic and reactionary "right wing extremist," "wingnut," or "libtard" -- or far worse -- comment, it pains me. That kind of shorthand says, "I know all I need to know about you, and I consign you to the trash heap." It insults the person rather than advocating for the issue. You may say, "You're just a snowflake!" Well, that one pains me too.
What else does scripture say about our words? "How great a forest is set ablaze by such a small fire! And the tongue is a fire, a world of unrighteousness. The tongue is set among our members, staining the whole body, setting on fire the entire course of life, and set on fire by hell...It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison. With it we bless our Lord and Father, and with it we curse people who are made in the likeness of God. From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers, these things ought not to be so."
Consider what James is saying: angry, sarcastic, knee-jerk reactions dripping disdainful insults toward humans made in God's image are poison to the world. James does not qualify whether the recipient’s political opinions are worthy.
There are people whose gifts enable them to influence broad societal currents -- to calm them or to churn the waters -- but for the vast majority of us, our sharp political retort is but a single drop in the firehose of the angry national shouting match, to no net effect. It's counterintuitive, but Christianity is, after all, an upside-down calling, and at this national moment, perhaps the most effective contribution we can make is to keep our counsel. So what is the alternative for a frustrated Christian citizen who feels somehow the nation is out of control?
Consider: on the vintage St. Charles streetcar line one morning last week, Dan and I took in the sights and smells of the Garden District, whose historic houses feel so settled into the landscape, it's as if they'd sprouted from the Mississippi River silt along with the live oaks. On this neighborhood line Loyola and Tulane students board alongside humble regulars, who greet one another and the drivers by name. As the streetcar creaked to a stop at the Felicity stop, a young Hispanic man hopped off. On the far side of the crosswalk stood a tiny, off-putting woman wearing an odd assortment of garments and what appeared to be house slippers with garbage bags wrapped around her feet. She stepped haltingly off the far curb, as if in great pain. She moved to cross the street toward the streetcar stop in the median of the divided boulevard. Traffic whizzed past. One feeble step, then another. Stop. One foot. Another. Stop. A vehicle flew past in the next lane.
The Hispanic rider paused at the corner, looked back over his shoulder, and returned to the crosswalk. He faced the oncoming traffic, making his presence large and impossible to miss. Cars stopped. Seated passengers held our breath as he offered his hand and escorted her painstakingly across the street and up the steps of the streetcar. We heaved a collective sigh of relief. She thanked him and he scampered across the crosswalk without a backward glance. The driver commented on his gallantry. The woman replied, "I wish I had him with me everywhere I go." A beautiful response, and one no one will ever make to us when we hold forth about politics. A quiet and dignified blessing, rather than a curse.
I’ve always been a disaster in any athletic endeavor, but I’m pretty articulate, and I can usually form a quick-witted, rapid-fire response to someone with whom I disagree. Someone told me many years ago that I had a little Julia Sugarbaker in me. Those of you of a certain age will understand the reference. During my lifetime, I haven’t always used my gift of words wisely. But I’m presently convicted and committed to restraint, and I’d be pleased if you’d join me in that commitment.
Consider dialing back disdainful, sarcastic responses. Advocate carefully. Vote your conscience, but pray for all leaders, "without anger or quarreling." Strive for that peaceful and quiet life and don't take the social media bait during this national moment. Starve the conflict. Just keep scrolling. Then, seek a godly and dignified way to have a positive impact -- one that values rather than denigrates a fellow traveler made in the image of God.
-Patti Summers