“Fear Not” – But, really, if you really knew me, you’d know you should.

Should be road signs: "Warning! Human Beings."

Sometimes it helps to “announce yourself” so that those you’re addressing can categorize your positions more quickly. Otherwise, we would have to listen to one another in detail, rather than more quickly avoiding or affiliating with others according to our preconceived assumptions.

In short, if someone appears to agree with my position on a given issue, then I don’t have to listen to them—I know that what they think will be just the same as what I think. Likewise, if they appear to disagree with my position, however many other positions there may be, well…honestly, I don’t have much need to explore all the details of how wrong they are.

So, here’s my self-categorizing announcement by which you can identify and avoid any positions on any issues I hold. Why am I so sure I’ll be ostracized? Because I am…(wait for it)….

I am a human being.

That’s all you need to know. On the basis of that simple fact you can safely dismiss anything I say as irrelevant to your personal positions on any and all issues. I say this with complete confidence, but not because I believe you to be entirely misanthropic (i.e., a hater of all humanity). In fact, because you, too, are a human being, I would imagine that you love all of humanity, even those who disagree with your positions on any or all issues. Why would I imagine that to be your position? Because that is the position I claim to hold as well. Granted, you may disagree with my position on this issue—this presumably universal love of all humanity. Maybe you are a misanthrope. But since I love that about you (at least in that condescendingly pitying sense by which we all say we love stray animals, but avoid touching their potentially disease-carrying fur), I can only assume that you must love my love for humanity.

So, if you do love me so, then why would you dismiss me? One reason could be that I recommend it. Yes, I think that dismissing me and my positions would be commendable.

A dagger and blindfolded hostage hardly says "Trust me."

Granted, you may not appreciate my recommendation. You may feel manipulated by it and choose to do its opposite, unless you consider that to be the intention of my manipulation. Then, you should really choose to take my recommendation, since I might also know you would react negatively to my manipulation. So, accept my recommendation, or not, if you dare, either way. (If you’re not lost in that circle-of-reasoning yet, then you’ll enjoy just about any YouTube video discussing Iocaine Powder. Go ahead. We’ll wait here for you. There’s even a correlation of the scene to Hegelian Dialectics.)

Despite the fact that you’ve probably already accepted or rejected my recommendation (to dismiss me, my positions, etc.) on the basis of your own predetermined preferences, I still feel compelled to explain why it would be good to avoid me, and other human beings as well.

Simply stated, we’re dangerous.

There it is. Human beings are dangerous. We take simple observations, compile them into stereotypes, and proceed to process one another according to our prejudices, whether positive or negative. Even when we are too young to effectively categorize others, we use others to create our categories. Parents are first and worst, of course. But extended families, friends, playmates, and others soon reinforce our assumptions about “how people are,” even before we can differentiate between “our people” and “other people,” much less “me” and “everyone else.”

Yes, mark your calendars. I agree with Oscar Wilde.

So if, in our earliest perceptions, we are not prejudging others by our previous experience, then we are still categorizing others in our current experience for future reference. Diabolical, really. Why? Because, in doing so, I allow only myself to be the fully functional, creatively complex individual human person I was designed to be. And, since I do, I know that you do, too. At least for yourself. In contrast, I assume that you, from my perspective, are only marginally more than a cardboard cutout. Your behavior may appear unpredictable, or even unique at times. But that perception passes as soon as I am out of your immediate presence. Then, in my memory, you go right back to being exactly as I imagine you to be, just like everyone else.

Again, though, why is that dangerous? Because I will eventually incorporate my experience of your unpredictability into the stereotype that supports my prejudices toward you. And if you continue to surprise me, I will be left with limited options.

I could, of course, adopt the view that other human beings are unpredictable and, in various ways, unique. The mental effort required by continuous dialogue and adjustment to others’ unpredictability, however, would be unjustifiably great, even before it is compounded by the dozens of individual human beings each of us encounters each day.

This could work. If "Meals-on-Wheels" delivers here.

This leaves me with only two options. First, I could withdraw entirely from human society. Sadly, my hunter-gatherer skill-set eliminates the hermit lifestyle from serious consideration. So, the second is really the only reasonable choice: I will seek to marginalize, depersonalize, exploit, oppress, and even enslave you by relating to you only when you fit neatly into my preconceived categories.

Thankfully, as a human being, you will most likely cooperate in the process. Your need to be accepted by others motivates you to eat, drink, dress, style, perfume, walk, ride, drive, and generally live in readily identifiable categories that allow my prejudices to be reinforced by the stereotypes you choose. You know, I would do the same for you. In fact, I do. (Another subject for another time: what do my Cabela’s slacks and oxford-cloth button down shirts communicate about me?)

So, whether you’re responding to my stereotype or I’m responding to yours, there are myriad dangers. So, if you choose to do so, work into it gradually and be sure you’ve built up an immunity…not to Iocaine Powder, but the even more poisonous possibility of being human.

Satire, Sarcasm, Mockery, and Ridicule: What if we saw these as an invitation to pursue clearer communication and closer relationships?

If he can see an invitation in THIS communication...

In a recent post to the blog “Uncommon God; Common Good,” entitled “Tis the Season All Year Round: ‘Collective Atheism’ and the Collective Good” (It can be found here: xxxxx, along with links to journalistic reports of the event.), John W. Morehead and Paul Louis Metzger review the “irreligious invocation” delivered, by invitation of the Lake Worth, Florida city commission, by an “atheist activist,” Preston Smith. In doing so, they offer suggestions to both the atheist and Evangelical “collectives” regarding a more diplomatic engagement as each, and many other sides express themselves “in the public square.” Primarily, in seeking the common good of the broader communities in which we serve, Morehead and Metzger recommend against the tendency toward confrontation. I was left, however, without a clear sense of the positive direction we are to pursue instead. What follows is my attempt to supply just such a remedy for, and alternative to, those confrontations.

...and even silence opens opportunity here...

As demonstrated in Preston Smith’s “invocation” before the Lake Worth, Florida city commission (see above for links to that discussion), what one may intend as satire can easily slide south past sarcasm into mere mockery or even reviling ridicule. Unfortunately, a similar patter afflicts Christians of my acquaintance, whom I would hold to a higher standard, based on their claim to be influenced by the indwelling Holy Spirit of God. And yet, too often, variations in our perceptions, even those resulting in only minor differences of perspective on a given issue, lead us beyond disagreement into divisive derision. The same holds true among my non-Christian friends as well. The lists of “forbidden subjects” can quickly extend far beyond religion and politics. In many important areas, we leave no room for authentic dialogue, much less reasoned discourse.

But those who claim to follow Christ are called to something better. If we are to collectively pursue the common good (and I believe community service ministry is an indispensable component of the Christian faith, and even more so when we can cooperate with those already engaged in specific areas of need), then we would do well as Christians to start by developing a better process for opening dialogue with one another. Perhaps then this pattern might assist us in communicating with those outside our faith communities as well. But my first, greatest hope for employing a more diplomatic means of discussion is for a greater unity in the whole of the Church, the body of Christ. This is the unity for which Christ prayed in John 17:20-23 as being indispensable to the clarity and authenticity of the proclamation and practice of the gospel.

...then it shouldn't surprise us that Matalin & Carville...

When conversation does reveal conflicting viewpoints, why do we so quickly disengage, withdrawing from both the topic, changing the subject, and—where the topic is of significance to us, withdrawing from those whose perceptions and perspectives differ from our own? Social Psychologist Christena Cleveland would ascribe the root cause to our desire to be cognitive misers. In short, we would rather not complicate our lives and use valuable mental energy when we could just as easily resort to stereotypes, prejudices, and behavior patterns that keep us from having to reconsider our previously established positions on any given issue.

...or Begin and Sadat find common ground together.

I would ascribe our motivation to a more base emotion, though. Fear. We fear the possibility that our limited perspective (whether we admit that it is limited or not) may have resulted in an incomplete perception on which we have drawn conclusions, made decisions, formed relationships, joined organizations, and perhaps even applied bumper stickers. Our fear demands that we fight or flee. So, we withdraw. Or, we address our conflicting perceptions competitively, choosing confrontation rather than conversation. Better to flee than fight, some would imagine. But if we can train ourselves to recognize the invitation to dialogue inherent in such confrontations, we may find opportunities to engage one another as persons, rather than positions.

To do so, we must remember that confrontation is always reductionistic in at least two ways. First, the point of conflict is reduced to a mere caricature denying that we might have any overlapping complexities in our perceptions or common ground beneath our perspective. We demonstrate, and even exaggerate our otherness in order to clearly define our “distinct viewpoint” from another’s “mistaken assumptions.” Second, confrontation also reduces those holding an opposing perspective on any issue to a mere caricature of personhood. Instead of the complexities and nuances we routinely allow ourselves, we identify others my whatever label popularly represents their position, as though that one position on that one issue defines their character, background, potential and value.

Conflicting viewpoints need not result in confrontation. But even when they do, when others may resort to satire, sarcasm, mockery, or ridicule (and especially when we are the ones who have done so), it represents an opportunity to pursue the issue in question as an invitation. The methodology is simple.

Of course, sometimes you have to let others in on an inside joke.

Try to politely clarify what you understand the other person to have said. I believe it’s appropriate to begin with, “I understand you’re employing a keen sense of irony and the absurd” (which is a kinder way of noting their tone as being sarcastic or worse). But whether including that observation or not, we seek to communicate that “what I’m understanding from that is….” Even when the response is rude, harsh, dismissive, or otherwise difficult to view as an invitation to further dialogue, I have found it helpful to respond to even the worst statements with, “How do you mean?”

There’s more, of course. I believe that the Matthew 18 Protocol (Matthew 18:15-18) can be applied to non-Christians as well as Christians. The New Testament, especially, offers a number of strategies for addressing those who were not just disagreeing with the Apostles, but who openly opposed them at times. But my point here is to emphasize that the decision by others to address a particular issue, even in satire, sarcasm, mockery, and/or ridicule, should be responded to as an invitation to dialogue in which broader understanding can bring the topic of conflict into sharper focus and, even in the absence of agreement on the particular issue, lead us to recognize the concerns, character, and complexities that often overlap and even coincide with our own.

The Cannibalistic Consumption of the Church – What adjective modifies the Christian faith you choose to follow?

Recently, two of Benjamin L. Corey’s posts have been making the rounds of some of my acquaintances. The more popular has been the one that makes a whipping boy out of many of my fellow-Evangelical Christians. Frankly, I not only entirely agree with Corey about the traits he lists, I wholeheartedly endorse my friend Preety Dass’s addition of three others. (She wrote, “I can sooo relate to this! Although I would add 3 more reasons: 1) racism in the evangelical circle, 2) weird gendered theology & sermons, & 3) classism originating from the prosperity gospel mentality (all based on personal experiences).”) For those interested in the original lists, Corey’s concerns about his fellow “Progressive Christians” can be found here: http://www.patheos.com/blogs/formerlyfundie/5-areas-where-progressive-christian-culture-completely-loses-me/, and “But Here’s 5 Reasons American Evangelicalism Completely Lost Me” can be found here: http://www.patheos.com/blogs/formerlyfundie/but-heres-5-reasons-why-american-evangelicalism-completely-lost-me/.

Pounding out our prejudices.

Simply by seeking fellowship among fellow pastors, even more so by openly encouraging multi-congregational cooperative ministries, I have been “privileged” to hear a variety of justifications, rationalizations, and fabrications for the constantly increasing territorialism, competition, and isolation of most congregations and denominations in the body of Christ. In the past, I have phrased this as our tendency to fragment and splinter the Church into ever-smaller components which we presume to be incompatible with one another, even as we proclaim that this makes our particular enclave even more compatible with following Jesus.

Recent posts by Benjamin L. Corey (see above), along with my considerations of the living, breathing reality of an organic function of Christ’s body, have led me to reconsider my choice of terminology. In short, “fragment” and “splinter” portray the Church as an inanimate object, being beaten to pieces by some external force. As I contemplated my belief about the nature of the Church as comprising anatomical members in physiological function, another more shocking realization intruded. Still being affected by external forces, even by those who imagine themselves to have been internalized to that body, the fine distinctions by which we separate from one another take on a sharper focus. Where once I saw the blunt-force trauma of the butting and shoving sheep of Ezekiel 34, I now see the end to which that flock and its members are consigned: the butcher’s knife, and cleaver, and bone-saw.

Fire up the grill for some Galatians 5:15!

For Corey, the primary labels are Evangelical or Progressive. But any other adjective defines some portion of Christ’s body as somehow separate from its other members. Each modifier we place ahead of “Christian” suggests that we see the Church’s denominations, traditions, and doctrinal allegiances as so many chunks of meat. We ask to pick through the piles of bones, sinews, muscles and their lifeblood committed to the trays of a butcher’s case. We act as though we may somehow select our preferences from among these dismembered segments. As carefully as we may shop among the carnage, we have clearly forgotten that each of us are called to be members of Christ’s body. We wander the mall of ministries, or simply remain rooted with our relatives, choosing to ally ourselves with an ecclesiological genealogy originating with some individual or group that we come to identify as “our kind of Christians.”

Let's see less of this...

Of course, we don’t stop at severing the interrelationships among our brothers and sisters in Christ. Our disunity among Christians dissolves our integrity (“being of one substance”) as a Christian. Even as individual persons, we isolate our “prayer life,” or “scripture study,” or “church attendance,” or “works of service” from the ongoing, holistic conversation that God intends should pervade every area, every moment of our lives.

A relationship with God through Christ comprises all parts of our lives, just as the body of Christ comprises all parts of the Church. If we are His, then everything we are and everything we do are part of that conversation, either in agreement or disagreement, obedience or defiance of what Jesus would have us to do. And if we are His, then we are members of His Church—including all those “others” He accepts, forgives, fills, calls, and engages in His purposes and plan.

...and practice more of this.

Whenever we begin to contemplate which adjective best modifies our Christianity, may we prayerfully consider the High Priestly Prayer of Jesus Christ toward God the Father in John 17.

“I do not ask on behalf of these alone, but for those also who believe in Me through their word; that they may all be one; even as You, Father, are in Me and I in You, that they also may be in Us, so that the world may believe that You sent Me. The glory which You have given Me I have given to them, that they may be one, just as We are one; I in them and You in Me, that they may be perfected in unity, so that the world may know that You sent Me, and loved them, even as You have loved Me.”

 - John 17:20-23 (NASB)