McMusing: Who is Telling You to be Afraid?
The greatest resistance is the refusal to link arms with power, control, and "othering."
McMusing Posts will now arrive on Saturdays! Commenting now available!
Two years ago, I had to step back from a book club that I truly enjoyed. Life got complicated. After my recent move, I began a search for another. To my delight, the local library was launching a book club!
The first book was about a wartime cooking show—I gave it my best. It had recipes in it along with long descriptions of food and quite a bit of drama. The “best seller” status demonstrated that many were captivated; I was not. My cooking skills and lack of interest thereof are well known. It was a disappointing start.
The next book, which I did finish was a harrowing survival story of a “girl” (more like a young woman) that included—as one critique put it—“every possible trigger”. The writing was eloquent, the graphic elements were mostly appropriate to the plot and well-contained. And the heroine died, which made sense. The book (see footnote) was a tribute to the human spirit’s determination to live. It was also a stark commentary on the devouring impact of power and greed—sometimes thinly disguised under a veil of religious pursuit in the 1700s.
All through the book, the pollyanna part of me kept hoping for a knight in shining armor to sweep in and save the girl. I knew it wasn’t going to happen, but hope didn’t die until the final page. Yet, I knew from the very start that the character’s fantasies of a life filled with goodness were only fanciful hopes that kept her moving.
I often feel that fanciful hope about the world right now and it could be that old age may be setting in. Horror of horrors! Say it isn’t true! Yet, I am reflecting on how, when I began to understand the impact of trauma, I was convinced that everyone would be as hopeful as I was. Why wouldn’t everyone want to heal, develop greater compassion, and work to change harmful systems? This has been true for so many! It was thrilling to watch.
But ultimately, the world is the world and as such, the powerful inflict new traumas on the less powerful generation after generation. Just as sure as the girl in the book was going to succumb to the harm-inducing world she found herself in from the moment of her birth, so too will the impact of trauma—traveling through generations—eventually take its toll on the world.
The world isn’t worse today than it has ever been. We may know more about how evil ravages the people of the earth, but one only needs to read a small smattering of history to know that this is not worse—it is as it has always been. Why? Because humans were created to survive. Fear, the need to control, and “othering” are core survival strategies. One must be brave to set them down.
Jesus stepped into a world much like our own and said, “Turn the other cheek.” It wasn’t about being a passive doormat, it was about stopping the cycle of survival that instinctually retaliates. He does this again and again and again.
If you are forced to walk a mile, walk two.
Put your sword back in its sheath!
Care for your neighbor (who just may be your enemy)
This doesn’t mean there aren’t actual enemies we should fear. Setting boundaries and protecting ourselves is crucial. This is not the same as retaliation. Having an enemy doesn’t require retaliation. Jesus said, “Stop.”
Needing to control others is a fear-based survival response much like retaliation. Again, there are reasons to control people who are causing actual harm—this necessary form of control becomes toxic when it gets extrapolated to anything that is not exactly what we believe. It is remarkable how easily a following be gained by someone adept at creating fear scenarios!
Often the fear makes enemies of those who might actually desire to help us. There was a moment in the book when the girl realized that she was alone because of her fear of “others”. She survived far better than was logical but lived out her life in abject loneliness. Survival breeds suspicion and aloneness. She had been taught to fear those who might have helped her.
If you listen carefully to the dominant voices, you will hear how the powerful use fear and “othering” to continue cycles of harm. Sadly, fear can create a bond based on an enemy that doesn’t even exist. That is not community—it certainly is not a fellowship—but it feels like one to those who have been taught to fear the “others” who Jesus called us to love. Fear says that the “others” must be controlled and any harm—perceived or real—requires retaliation.
The fear in this world is so pervasive that it will be unlikely to change in my lifetime—or ever. Fear is a natural instinct that those who desire power have learned to use for their gain. I remind myself that Jesus didn’t try to overturn the empire—he tried to encourage the marginalized to create pockets of care for one another.* He said that yes, fear, power, and control are the way of the world, but those who followed him could live together peaceably.
In the story, the girl says of another character, “In the end [she had] deliberately chosen not to engage, had chosen to let herself die instead of being part of the machinery of domination.” ** I believe the greatest resistance is the refusal to engage. It is a refusal to fear an “other” who has done nothing to cause us personal harm.
There is a meme floating about that says something to the effect of not allowing others to make their enemies your enemies. Why would we allow ourselves to hate someone who is being maligned by someone who does not deserve our trust? (I am well aware that statement could come from either political side—the point is to not allow either side to keep us from living peaceably with one another.)
I have spent the last few years sitting at tables with many I was taught to fear. I now call them friends. Abraham Lincoln once asked, “Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friend?” Yes, the enemy eventually killed him, but he also made some friends of those who could have been enemies. May we all do likewise—let us refuse to participate in the fear-inducing strategies created by those who desire power, control, and retaliation.
Finally, addressing issues is not the same as cutting off ears. One is borne of reflection, the other of reaction. Possibly what I fear as a retreat or collapse into old age is more like a refusal to engage in word wars that will not change how the world has always been and always will be unless it self-annihilates. Wisdom tells me that “othering,” retaliation, and desire to control can grow just as easily from good intent as it does from evil. We fail to understand what Jesus was conveying when we believe our cause to be righteous and that any means justifies the end. It is so easy to think we are protecting Jesus when we use our words to cut off the ears of those we were called to love.
The teacher in me often wants to end with questions—this time I will:
Who do you consider your enemy and what is it that makes them an enemy? Or, are they your enemy because you were taught that they should be?
Is there someone you find yourself “othering” who you could ask to sit at a table with you?
Are you expending energy (physical or emotional) on efforts to control the actions of others (politically, spiritually, within communities)? (This is my nemesis!)
What steps could you take as a refusal to engage or participate? How is this different from apathy or giving in to power?
*As it pertains to the church, McKnight and Barringer call this “Pockets of Tov” in their book, A Church Called Tov: Forming a Goodness Culture That Resists Abuses of Power and Promotes Healing.)
** Groff, Lauren. The Vaster Wilds (p. 165). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.