Reconciliation
Over the past few weeks, as we have read Disunity in Christ, I have felt rather
discouraged. The readings have brought forth not only my own shortcomings, but
those of everyone around me. It is easy to read this book, read all of the ways
in which we fall short, and land in a place of sadness and pointlessness. After
all, what good is any of this if we just naturally drift into distrust of those
unlike us, creating prejudice and discrimination just by living?
There seems to be no point to it. Is it not futile? Our
subconscious makes these choices for us. Our culture and society breed us to
act this way.
We are powerless.
This seems to be hammered even further in chapter eight, as
Cleveland introduces us to the blinders that our cultures place on our eyes. We
cannot see past our differences because we have been taught not to turn our
heads to peer past those blinders. Another chapter that feels hopeless as it
ends. Regardless of the attempt to uplift us by providing some attempt at
reconciling our collective blindfolds it feels hopeless.
You and I are made this way by everything around us. We
cannot change it, even with little chapter-ending platitudes.
And then I turn the page to chapter nine.
I find the first seemingly concrete, solid excerpt of
redemption for this world. I find it in her story about the merged school and I
find it in her story about an imperfect multiethnic conference where a man made
a mistake, a mistake perhaps he did not consciously make. I find it in
Cleveland searching through her own pain at this man’s words for
reconciliation:
“The work of reconciliation is often excruciating because it
is the work of the cross. If reconciliation work isn’t painful, I’d venture to
say that it isn’t really reconciliation work. Reconciliation requires that we
partner with equally imperfect individuals who are also clumsily scaling the
cross-cultural learning curve, forgive those who carelessly wrong us,
repeatedly ask for forgiveness, engage in awkward and unpredictable situations
and, like gluttons for punishment, keep coming back for more.”
This book has hurt me. Reading it causes my heart to ache
and my stomach to churn. I am an imperfect human with my own biases and
imperfections and flaws that burn inside of me as I expose them to my own
introspection. I am imperfect, living in an imperfect world where I can look
around and see seven billion other imperfect humans, some who broadcast their
flaws and biases and hatreds so loudly that they leave a ringing in my ears.
Yes, this book opens wide wounds. Wounds it did not create,
but that it opened all the same. However, as it draws to a close, this book
also offers hope. It extends a genuine hand with a genuine offering of reconciliation.
It is not pretty.
Cleveland admits that. And I have to admit it. We all have to admit it.
This is not pretty.
But it is good.
Great post!
ReplyDeleteI agree, this book has convicted me to the core of who I am in. God has used it to call out so many unacceptable thoughts, opinions, and actions I have displayed, thinking they were okay. Yet, there is hope. Hope for change and a better future. And hope for a perfect everlasting life. This book has not been fun to read, but that's because I needed to read it. I needed to hear the words that God has orchestrated through Cleveland. I needed to take responsibility for the disunity in Christ we see today.
This book has done a great job of pointing out all of our flaws. It makes me think of C.S. Lewis' Voyage of the Dawn Treader when Eustace is forced to endure the painful removal of his dragon exterior in order to be returned to a boy. Your post pointed out that although painful, these reminders are necessary and are what we need to endure if we are going to fix our flaws or get closer to the way we are supposed to be.
ReplyDeleteGreat job, Aidan! I can relate wholeheartedly, and have certainly felt discouragement on more than one occasion while reading Cleveland's words. This text has been very effective in pointing out the many flaws and inefficient/discriminatory processes underlying human cognition and psychology. Given the automaticity--and even necessity, in some cases--of such tendencies, can we really do anything about them? Are we destined to discriminate and hurt others, regardless of intentionality? Such thoughts certainly provoke a sense of helplessness. However, they also point to the fallenness of humanity, the sinful distortion we live in each day. Confronting such depravity is not fun, but it is necessary. In fact, I would argue that, if anything, it has made Cleveland's words of hope that much more comforting, while also igniting in me a fire for cross-cultural interaction and reconciliation. All that said, I appreciate your vulnerability and wish you the best as you continue to wrestle with the text.
ReplyDeleteYes she has a way of convicting us in great ways. It is good to feel this discomfort--I think Jesus did that best. He helped people feel included and loved yet pushed them to feel uncomfortable almost always. Thanks for writing
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