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"For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places."
– Ephesians 6:12 (NRSV*)
I’ve never met Kristin Collins, but I’d like to know her. She’s leaving her post as information director for the Center for Death Penalty Litigation, one of many citizens’ groups that seek to abolish the death penalty. Here’s what she wrote in her farewell column:
"... what I take with me is not a list of accomplishments, but a few key lessons I learned from this community: Err on the side of offering grace and forgiveness. Put ego aside. Work for what’s right rather than what’s possible. Listen deeply to people’s stories. Always keep widening the circle of compassion. And never forget that our capacity for love is our greatest power."
It strikes me that Kristin’s life lessons sound a lot like Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s “religionless Christianity.” Being a follower of Jesus, I hear her comments echo Jesus’ lessons from the Sermon on the Mount. While on one level Kristin’s words cheer me (knowing that there’s at least one other person in the world who understands life the way I and countless of my friends do), dismay, if not despair, quickly follows.
The hard fact is that we’re living through one of civilization’s most barbaric eras. I venture to say that the barbarians’ assaults on the Roman Empire bear the closest resemblance to what’s happening in our current time, but I know that’s only half-true. Rome was rotting from the inside when the Visigoths and Vandals sacked the decrepit empire's former capital in the fifth century. The same is now true of Christianity in America, and I’m heartbroken by it.
We could expend uncountable time and energy – and have these past few months – bemoaning our losses. Where did we go wrong? How did we not see this coming? What will become of us? These laments have served a purpose, but they are empty if they persist without resolution. From the perspective of this cantankerous old Christian, the only question that matters now is the last one.
As I write there’s happiness, if not downright ebullience, at political events such Sen. Cory Booker’s filibuster in the US Senate and Justice Susan Crawford’s victory for Wisconsin Supreme Court. Yet we’re still facing a society that thinks it’s all right to strip the poor and needy of food and to bankrupt farmers by cancelling contracts for grain. We’re still living under a government that refuses to rein in the deadly actions of a “mad king” executive whose slightest utterance terrifies even those who could restrain his unbridled lust for power. We face a climate crisis that could turn our planet into a smoldering cinder, and yet all the cries of all those who see catastrophe coming have minimally slowed the onslaught.
What we face, my cherished siblings, is our own Calvary. Before this is over, much sacrifice, including the supreme sacrifice of death, will be demanded of us. We’re seeing the death of institutions that have undergirded our lifestyles, our health, our rights, for decades. We’re seeing the death of efforts to right the wrongs of America’s past, to view our history through the eyes of those who’ve been oppressed by our national myths. We’re seeing the death of trust in one another, even of common courtesy in human interactions.
Are we up to the task? Is our faith in Jesus Christ, his teachings, his model and most of all, his Resurrection, sufficient to strengthen us to attempt what is right, not merely what is possible? Do we have the spiritual courage to live openly according to our faith, and to tell people why we do so? Can we risk all?
In a student podcast from Eastern University, eminent Christian ethicist David P. Gushee made a case for Christian involvement in democracy. He advised listeners to expect pushback, sometimes vile epithets and outright lies, to whatever they express in public, especially when quoting Jesus because his tenets are now anathema to who have opted for cruelty. Nonetheless, Dr. Gushee urged Christians to gather their courage and engage in public discourse, to be courteous and truthful and ask questions that seek to build relationships, including with those with whom we disagree.
Kristin Collins has sketched out the guideposts for us. Err on the side of offering grace and forgiveness, even to a corrupt president and his supporters as we stand in the way of the evil they pursue. Put ego aside, even when it means our friends and family think less of us. Work for what’s right rather than what’s possible, even in the face of physical danger and our own lust for authority. Listen deeply to people’s stories because they deserve our hearing. Always keep widening the circle of compassion, even to those who’ve committed harmful acts while we protect the vulnerable.
And remind each other constantly that our capacity for love is our greatest power.
Cynthia B. Astle is Editor of United Methodist Insight, an online journal she founded in 2011 as a media channel to amplify news and views about, for and by marginalized and under-served United Methodists. Please email for permission to reproduce this content elsewhere.
* New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org