Love Thine Enemy

Long before September 11, 2001, politicians knew the best way to gain support was to name a fearsome enemy that couldn’t be seen, and proclaim the threat was imminent.  Using evidence or fiction, they argue this enemy has diametrically opposite values and will end life as we know it.  They tell us that the enemy is snaking into our trusted institutions, seeping into our culture, lurking behind every change that we are uncomfortable with.  The circle of paranoia is complete by claiming that anyone who disagrees is unpatriotic, therefore silencing dissent.

This method has worked repeatedly in history, from Hitler’s Germany to McCarthy’s Communism to the current ‘threat’ of Islamic Caliphate.  Unfortunately, it still works.  “In September 2010, a Washington Post-ABC News poll showed that 49 percent of Americans held an unfavorable view of Islam, a significant increase from 39 percent in October of 2002” according to the Center for American Progress.

As Christians, we have instructions of how to act towards a perceived enemy. "You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you."  (Matt 5:43-44).  At no point did Christ instruct his listeners to take any action against another – he taught the opposite: humility and compassion towards the ‘other’.  As followers of Christ, we have a model of how to respond to an enemy threat, as Jesus demonstrated in every day of his ministry.  So why is it so many self-confessed Christians have the most venom towards the “Islamic threat”?

Under this type of manufactured hysteria, every individual or minute act that defies this logic is an individual act of heroism.  In that spirit, I applaud the DuPage County Board for not responding to Anti-Muslim hysteria and permitting the construction of a Mosque in unincorporated Willowbrook – that is, after they denied it.  Happily, fairer heads have prevailed over the Ground Zero Mosque Mania that colored so much of 2010. 

I would applaud louder, however, if a DuPage County rules change last October was applied evenly to all faiths.  The original MECCA Mosque application included a 56-foot Dome and 79-foot Minaret in the structure.  These aspects of the project were denied, and have continued to be denied, even though a policy change was recently enacting regarding height of “religious design elements including bell towers, steeples and crosses to exceed 36 feet — to a maximum height of 72 feet — as long as certain setback requirements are met” – would allow the Mosque to aspire to Godly heights.  Holding the envisioned MECCA Mosque to the ‘precedent’ of previous denial looks conspicuously as if the policy change was designed with two different standards in mind. 

Abraham Lincoln is quoted as saying, “the best way to destroy your enemy is by making him your friend”.   This is one of the basic truths of life, and luckily, despite all the setbacks, one that the MECCA Mosque planners understand.

“Though such conflicts have led to concerns of religious discrimination, supporters of the MECCA site were not pointing fingers Tuesday.

"I can't read people's minds, but I have heard from neighbors that this was not about religion, and I believe them," said Touleimat, who lives in Burr Ridge. "The work for us has just begun. Now our job is to show them how good of a neighbor we can be."

The Mosque planners have modeled our own Christian teaching on how to treat an ‘enemy’.  

Are You Privileged?

1) I can if I wish arrange to be in the company of people of my race most of the time.

Ten years ago, I was living in Beijing, China and teaching English to Chinese adults who wanted to improve their career potential.  In China I felt as conspicuous as a giraffe in a petting zoo; not only was I taller and stockier than most of the Chinese women, I outsized a good number of the men, too.  There was no mistaking me in a crowd.  When I entered a restaurant, or walked down the street, people turned and stared.

3) I can be pretty sure that my neighbors in such a location will be neutral or pleasant to me.

I could say that, because of this experience, I know what it means to be a minority, but that would be a fallacy.  When I walked down the street in China, my white skin carried an innate power with it.  Why?  My white skin denoted I was a person of means (in fact, Chinese merchants immediately started recalculating their fruit prices as they saw me approach).  My white skin implied a person of education.  My white skin showed a person of mobility, who could travel freely within their country and throughout the world.  My white skin implied a certain amount of immunity as well – as a white person, I had a ‘get out of jail free card’ - a guarantee that if I broke enough of the arcane Chinese bureaucratic rules, the worst penalty I would experience was deportation back to my home country.  

4) I can go shopping alone most of the time, pretty well assured that I will not be followed or harassed.

As I walked down Chinese streets, people greeted me with stares, smiles and invitations to browse their wares. At no point was I squinted at with suspicion or followed because I wore a hoodie.

I’ve been reading rumblings of disgust in the Trayvon Martin tragedy referring to the involvement of civil rights veterans like Rev. Jesse Jackson turning the incident into a race issue.  They claim that the rhetoric is outdated, tired, and irrelevant.  Other commentators have suggested that having a black President signifies that we are living in a ‘post-racial’ society.  But if anything, the Trayvon Martin case shows that despite the nation’s willingness to elevate some black people to positions of power, profiling and suspicion based on skin color are still highly prevalent – not only in police matters, but in all our daily interactions.

Yes, I mean I do it too.  I catch myself securing my property, or assuming tardiness, or expecting financial failure from strangers with dark skin.  I have to consistently work against the stereotypes that are always present in my thoughts to both show the respect that is deserved for every person, and to give myself the chance to know someone for their real personality.  

If we want to dismantle racism in American society, we have to acknowledge the luxury of white privilege.  Peggy McIntosh has written an interesting 26-point list (including point 1, 3 and 4 recited above) called “White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack” that helps articulate the luxury of being the dominant, and accepted norm, of culture.

Number eleven on McIntosh’s list is: I can arrange to protect my children most of the time from people who might not like them.

The Martins have come face to face with Number 11.   We owe them, in their grief, to take a hard look at our own stereotypes and privilege that come from race.  

Is Easter Political?

As we enter Maundy Thursday, witness Good Friday, and wait through Holy Saturday for Resurrection Sunday this year, I find myself reflecting on an early impression of Easter.

When I was in high school I was in a Passion Play on Maundy Thursday.  Depicting Jesus’ last week, a small cast of players shared all parts, first welcoming Jesus to Jerusalem with waving palms, and later enacting the mob that had turned against Jesus, cursing him and repeatedly yelling,  “Crucify Him!  Crucify Him!” to Pontius Pilate.

I always found it mystifying how a crowd whom welcomed Jesus with ‘Hosannas’ one week earlier would turn into a bloodthirsty mob calling for his painful and humiliating death.  It was my first, vivid, look at the darkest side of humanity: mobthink.  Mobthink is alive and well in our politics today.

Jon Stewart interviews crowds for and against the AffordableCare Act.

While the crowds cry ‘tyranny’ outside the courthouse, interested parties could listen to the Supreme Court Justices weigh the nuance and economic principles behind the market failure that is our health care system, and whether we as a people have a responsibility to correct that market failure.

In a different scenario, I marched with ‘A Million Hoodies’ recently to mourn to the unnecessary and unjust death of Trayvon Martin, and mobthink felt dangerously close to the surface. While I will never have to deal with being black in this racist country, I want justice for Trayvon and all the other young black men shot, harassed, profiled, or caught in the deadly cycle of crime that is prevalent in our impoverished neighborhoods.

Walking with the hoodies, however, chanting ‘what do we want?’ “Justice!” ‘When do we want it?’ “Now!” felt disingenuous, and too aimed for blood. Like the Rodney King beating, Trayvon’s murder has provided that spark to ignite the coals that have been red-hot below the surface. But we shouldn’t make the mistake of assuming that an eye for an eye is enough for this situation, or let mobthink cloud our judgment. 

Mobthink lies in each of us.  For me, Jesus’ death was always a manifestation of the worst traits of humankind; fear and suspicion, manipulation and greed, kneejerk thinking and mobthink.  Jesus’ death appeals to the need to engage our better selves in times of crisis.  The most difficult part of life is the nuance and responsibility of decision-making. 

George Zimmerman is not the only one at fault in this Travyon tragedy.  As I mourn for the Martin family, I also mourn for an entire nation where all young black teens are worthy of suspicion, and those in power (note: whites) have passed laws deeming murder ‘no fault’, and all but one state has passed laws allowing Conceal and Carry.  Zimmerman needs to be charged, if nothing else than to acknowledge with remorse that he took precious life, precious potential, and precious dreams from another person.  Trayvon was a son, a friend, a boyfriend, and those people were robbed of a future with their loved one.  To not acknowledge his death as wrongful is a criminal indictment of our legal system as one that still values the lives of black people as only 'two-thirds' worth.  But we need not publish the home address of the Zimmerman family, as Spike Lee attempted to do late last week, to fuel mobthink.  

“Forgive them Father, for they know not what they do.” (Luke 23:34).  When you are operating in mobthink, too often, this is true.  We need leadership focused on how we as people can relate to each other, and how communities can relate to other communities, with responsibility towards each other's well being.