If the destination we’re moving toward as churches and Christians includes a greater inclusion of those who are regularly marginalized, maligned or murdered, one of the things we must purge ourselves of is fear. Purgation is one of three things the early Christians wrote about as the means by which we make our journey toward union–complete harmony with God and with others. And one of the primary things we will have to purge ourselves of is fear.
Not fear of our culture.
Not fear of those we’re working to welcome.
But fear of our own faith communities.
In an extended and brutal quote, Brian McLaren explains:
All of us are poised between two dangers. The obvious one is “The Other.” The subtle one is “Us.” If we defend ourselves against the Other, if we attack the Other, we gain credibility with “Us.” We show that we are loyal, supportive, believers, members of Us, and we are generously rewarded and affirmed. We gain a lot by attacking the Other–in religious circles as well as political ones. Ironically, Us can be as great a threat to each of us as the Other is, probably greater. Us might withdraw its approval of me. It might label me disloyal, unsupportive, unbeliever, unorthodox, liberal, anathema, etc. To be rebuked, marginalized, or excluded by Us is an even greater threat than to be attacked by the Other. I don’t think we Christians often realize the great degree to which we live in fear of Us. (Why Did Jesus, Moses, the Buddha, and Mohammed Cross the Road?: Christian Identity in a Multi-Faith World Brian D. McLaren, 47-48)
I know of a large church that declared it would be radically more hospitable in its treatment of women and its treatment of people in the LGBTQ community. Hundreds of members walked out the door in protest. But not before embarking on a fear-campaign to keep the statements from being made. In their dream to fulfill God’s vision for the Other, they were attacked by Us.
I have a friend who, in a southern church, on the Sunday after Martin Luther King Jr’s murder in Memphis, preached about the evil of racism and about God’s vision for racial equity. The next morning his elders called a meeting and demanded he retract the sermon and apologize to his white congregants. He refused. He was fired. In his effort to fulfill God’s vision for the Other, he was attacked by Us.
A friend emailed and told me he was getting married–to a man. He said, “I understand if you want to unfollow me on social media. I don’t want your being connected to me in any way to cause others to attack you.” He was afraid of Us.
Us criticized Jesus. Us crucified Jesus. And he knew it would happen. But Jesus endured. Jesus engaged. Because his love of the Other–you and me–always and enduringly overshadowed his fear of Us.
