Is
there a way to cross the divide that separates us from others, that bridges the
“us/them” dichotomy, which makes genuine reconciliation and community possible?
The
primary barrier that stands in the way of this kind of reconciliation is self-righteousness. We might assume this is just a psychological
issue. It is that, but even more so, it
is a spiritual issue, that, along with greed, Jesus repeatedly labels as “sin.” This is how the dichotomy gets started in the
first place. I think I am right, and the other is wrong.
Add to this a good dose of hubris, and you have full-blown
self-righteousness.
We
ended the last post with the need to move to confession, acknowledging as the
man from Bosnia stated: “In a war like this, no one is innocent.” Reconciliation can never occur as long as our
focus is on morality. Who is most right
and who is most wrong ends up in a never-ending circle that leaves us dizzy,
confused, vengeful, and self-righteous as the need to prove we are more right, and less wrong, becomes increasingly necessary (so we assume). Exclusion is overcome through grace
(relationship), not morality.
Bonheoffer
famously stated that the ground is level beneath the cross. That is, before God, we are all equally
sinful, and equally in need of love and grace. “Whoever
lives beneath the cross of Jesus, and has discerned in the cross of Jesus the
utter ungodliness of all people and of their own hearts, will find there is no
sin that can ever be unfamiliar. Whoever
has once been appalled by the horror of their own sin, which nailed Jesus to
the cross, will no longer be appalled by even the most serious sin of another
Christian; rather they know the human heart from the cross of Jesus. Such persons know how totally lost is the
human heart in sin and weakness, how it goes astray in the ways of sin—and know
too that this same heart is accepted in grace and mercy.” [Life
Together]
Volf
explains: “Solidarity in sin underscores that no salvation can be expected from
an approach that rests fundamentally on the moral assignment of blame and innocence
. . . . Under the conditions of pervasive non-innocence [“since all have sinned and
fall short of the glory of God," Romans 3:23], the work of reconciliation should proceed
under the assumption that, though the behavior of a person may be judged as
deplorable, even demonic, no one should
ever be excluded from the will to embrace, because, at the deepest level,
the relationship to others does not rest on their moral performance and
therefore cannot be undone by the lack of it.” [Ibid. 84,85]
One of
the ways Volf explores this theme is by reflecting on the parable of the
prodigal son in Luke 15:11-32. The older
brother’s focus is on morality, on rules.
He was the good son, who did all the right things. His brother is the bad son, who does things
wrong. The focus on morality severs the
brotherly bond [he refers to the younger brother now as “this son of yours”]
and creates self-righteousness to the point that he resents the acceptance of
the younger brother back into the family relationship.
The
father, on the other hand, cares only about the relationship. The
prodigal returns planning to confess his sins not so that he could
become a son again, but in the hope that he might be accepted as a hired hand. However, as Volf explains, “no confession was
necessary for the embrace to take place for the simple reason that the
relationship did not rest on moral performance and therefore could not be
destroyed by immoral acts. The son’s
return from ‘the distant country’ and the father’s refusal to let the son out
of his heart sufficed.” [Ibid 159] The
son does confess his sin [v. 21], but this is now in response to acceptance and
grace, not the basis for it.
One of
the main things that stand in the way of reconciliation is the desire for
revenge, usually couched in terms of “justice.”
How many painful days are people who have been wronged willing to sit in
a court room reliving over and over again the way in which they were wronged because
they are convinced they will only feel better if they get revenge
(justice). This is often an errand in
search of “fools gold.” Healing
comes not through revenge, but through forgiveness. Only a few are able to discover this at the
beginning rather than at the end of the journey. Amish parents in Nickle Mines, Pa. (2007). African Methodist Episcopal church
members in Charleston (2015). Nelson
Mandela in South Africa (1990).
Jurgen
Moltmann explains this dynamic, commenting on Jesus’ prayer from the cross to
his Father, asking him to forgive those who crucified him: “With this prayer of
Christ the universal religion of revenge is overcome and the universal law of
retaliation is annulled. In the name of
the Crucified, from now on only forgiveness holds sway. Christianity that has the right to appeal to
him is a religion of reconciliation. To forgive whose who have wronged one is
an act of highest sovereignty and great inner freedom. In forgiving and reconciling, the victims are
superior to the perpetrators and free themselves from compulsion to evil
deeds.” [Quoted in ibid. 122]
As I
have read and reflected on this journey from exclusion to embrace, I, frankly,
have repeatedly felt convicted. I have
tried to repress and ignore my desire for revenge, but its seeds are, I hate to
confess, deep in my heart. I am amazed
at how, in the middle of a sleepless night, I can relive the wrongs I feel I
have experienced and relish the fantasy of just “telling them what I really
think!” And I find myself wondering about the
many ways the carrying of this (often unconscious) desire for revenge robs me
of joy and sours me on life and on people.
How many times do the wise among us tell us to “just let it go,” but we
cannot.
St.
Paul describes the battle in this way: “For I do not
do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no
longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me. . . . . Wretched
man that I am! Who will rescue me from
this body of death? Thanks be to God
through Jesus Christ our Lord!” [Romans 7:19-25]
Volf describes powerfully and accurately how
Christ changes the dynamic: “By placing
unattended rage before God we place both our unjust enemy and our own vengeful
self face to face with a God who loves and does justice. Hidden in the darkness, hate grows and seeks
to infest everything with its hellish will to exclusion. In the light of
the justice and love of God, however, hate recedes and the seed is planted for
the miracle of forgiveness. Forgiveness flounders because I exclude the
enemy from the community of humans even as I exclude myself from the community
of sinners. But no one can be in the
presence of the God of the crucified Messiah for long without overcoming this
double exclusion.” [Ibid. 124]
This
three-part reflection began by defining part of our original sin as the desire to remake the world in our own
image by excluding certain people. Cain
wants a world without Abel, David wants a world without Uriah the Hittite, and
the older brother wants a world without his younger brother, the prodigal
son. Exclusion starts with our closest
relationships and then seeps out into the world.
The
answer to exclusion does not come from that vast world. It comes from a place much closer to each of
us: from our heart, a heart redeemed by the blood of the Lamb who comes to take
away the sin of the world.
It has
become clique in our secular world to say about humanity that we are much more
alike than we are different. This
actually speaks biblical truth. Once I recognize my own sin and desire to
exclude, once I recognize the ways in which I have been a perpetrator of
exclusion, as well as a victim, once I recognize how the desire for revenge
destroys not only relationships but my own spiritual healing and growth, then we
can let God be God and pray for a forgiving heart that begins to reconcile me
to myself, my neighbor, and the world, and thereby to God.
 |
| Reconciliation Statue at bombed-out Coventry Cathedral, City of York, England |
