Divisions

In Luke 12:49-59, Jesus says that his coming causes division. He highlights the divisions that occur in families.

By the time Luke’s Gospel was written, such division over Jesus was certainly happening in families. Those who believed in and followed Jesus became alienated from family members who didn’t. Such divisions still happen, particularly in cultures where another religion dominates.

These days, we have divisions in the family of faith. Christians are divided against each other.

Some such divisions have been around so long that we hardly think about them. Some of them are official and formalized, as in the existence of multiple denominations and branches of denominations.

We’re accustomed to some of these divisions to the point of being good-natured about them. People in one denomination might give those in another a hard time, but they’re usually just kidding.

Divisions within denominations, on the other hand, are no laughing matter, and many denominations have faced, are facing, and will face them.

These days we face serious divisions within the larger family of faith. I’m thinking especially of the church in the United States.

In our current political and social climate, Christians have taken up opposing positions. Put too simply, on one side are the evangelicals and on the other side are the progressives.

(As I said, that’s putting it too simply—far, far too simply. But it would take a very long essay to cover the needed caveats, explanations, and exceptions. So we’ll have to settle for the general terms.)

When Jesus talked about the divisions that his coming would produce, he meant divisions between those who follow him and those who don’t.

We are dealing with divisions between people who all believe they are following Jesus.

I’ve had people say to me, “I don’t see how you can be a Christian and take that position.” My response to them is, “Back atcha.”

This is a difficult situation. It is difficult because both sides can’t be right. It is also difficult because once we become convinced that we’re the ones who are truly on Jesus’ side (and that he is on ours), we become entrenched and defensive.

The line between righteousness and self-righteousness can be a fine one.

There are some calls that should be easy, though. For example, people who embrace racism, sexism, and misogyny are wrong, and those who embrace equality, justice, and respect are right. People who act out of hate and fear are wrong, and those who act out of love and hope are right.

How can we move toward being people who truly follow Jesus and thus truly represent him in the current situation and in future ones? How can we be as sure as we can be that we are really following Jesus?

First, we can keep our minds open. There is always more to learn about who Jesus is and who Jesus would have us be. Once we let our perspectives and opinions become set in stone, we get awfully attached to our monuments.

Second, we can keep our hearts humble. We all have a long way to go. It’s best to keep that in mind. Besides, it’s not about being right. It’s about being a follower of Jesus, wherever that takes us. We live and serve by the grace of God. We must take care that we not become proud of it.

Third, we can continually read and study the Gospels. We are blessed to have them. They contain what the Spirit and the early church’s teachers, preachers, writers, compilers, and editors determined we need to know about Jesus. I’d suggest we read at least a chapter a day. We should do so prayerfully, asking God to help us know how we can best follow and bear witness to Jesus.

Fourth, we can think, speak, and act in love, grace, and mercy. If we find ourselves about to adopt an attitude, make a statement, or perform an action that doesn’t demonstrate Jesus’ love, grace, and mercy, we need to stop. Then we need to move on toward attitudes, statements, and actions that do.

Faithfulness to Jesus can create division. We need to do all we can to make sure we are following Jesus as best we can, including in the ways we deal with our sisters and brothers we find ourselves divided from.

(This post first appeared at Coracle, the blog of NextSunday Resources.)

We’d Better Move Over

I recently completed teaching an eight-week class on Wednesday evenings at Mercer University’s Henry County Center in McDonough. My usual route home takes me down I-75 to the Barnesville/Jackson exit.

These days, the Georgia Department of Transportation is resurfacing that stretch of interstate highway. They do the work at night. My class ended at 9:45 p.m.

You do the math.

Luckily, I have these nice apps on my phone to help me. One night, I requested one such app to take me to the best route home. It knew (I don’t know how) that the interstate was a parking lot due to the construction, so it took me on what would have been a scenic route had it not been too dark to see.

On another night, the app said that traffic on the interstate was moving well, so I went that way. The app was right, and I zipped right on down the highway.

Then there was a third night. The app assured me that the interstate was the best way to go.

The app lied.

As a result, I found myself sitting still for half an hour two miles from my exit.

It was mildly irritating. But I was listening to a very interesting podcast, so it was no big deal.

What did bother me about the situation was how unnecessary it was. And it was unnecessary because of—what else?—people.

You see, a few miles before the point where the work began, there were signs saying things like, “Road work ahead. Two left lanes closed. Merge right.”

I processed the information. If road work was ahead, and if the two left lanes were going to be closed, then the suggestion to move over to the right lane seemed a good one.

So I did. And then I rolled along in the right lane for a few miles with people zipping by me in the two left lanes.

I kept on rolling and they kept on zipping—until I stopped rolling and they stopped zipping.

The bottleneck occurred when the people driving in the two left lanes—the lanes that those signs had miles ago—miles ago!— warned them were going to be closed—suddenly needed to get in the far right lane, where I and other people already were because (1) we can read and (2) we have the good sense to take warnings seriously and to do what we need to do to avoid problems down the road.

This is a metaphor for the place in which we find ourselves.

There are all kinds of signs warning us of what’s coming.

There are signs warning us that if we don’t do something, climate change is going to get worse, with ominous implications for our health, the economy, and national security.

There are signs warning us that if we don’t do something, disregard for the Constitution at the highest levels is going to get worse, with ominous implications for our government, our freedom, and our role in the world.

There are signs warning us that if we don’t do something, demagoguery that uses fear and ignorance to create and widen divisions among us is going to get worse, with ominous implications for our society, our politics, and our common good.

There are signs warning us that if we don’t do something, health care problems that come from placing more value on corporate profits than on human lives are going to get worse, with ominous implications for our well-being, our finances, and our stability.

If we don’t respond to the warning signs by doing something positive and constructive, we’ll soon find ourselves stuck with no exit available.

We ignore the warning signs to our own peril, and to the even greater peril of our children, their children, and their children.

The signs are there. We’d better start moving over before it’s too late.