Good Lord it’s been an awful year. Like, Big Bang Theory awful. Worse.
We’ve lost loved-ones and strangers in number that have reduced the mouthiest of us to silence. We’ve lost a way of life we didn’t even know we loved. We’ve seen racists and the pathologically selfish unmask themselves not just in the marble corridors of temporary power but in flatshares and studios and shacks. And I for one feel like I’m in a perpetual seizure of horror in the comments section of some tweet or video, thrashing between the desire to punish a stranger and never to engage with another human being again.
I’m tired of being told to disagree well. With strangers and friends who think black people should accept the grinding constancy of daily racism as well as the likelihood of being murdered in an act of police brutality with polite resignation. With people so desirous of feeling superior and knowledgeable that they see basic medical science as a conspiracy of power and risk the lives of others to avoid cognitive dissonance. With actual f***ing Nazis, who have become proud and bold.
I do not want to treat with politeness someone who thinks an entire gender should be subservient or thinks that being born into poverty should justify suffering. I am concerned that my civility towards those who would persecute gay people or trans people might be interpreted as respect for their position. I do not want to look like I respect them because I do not want, through fatigue or laziness, to fall into respecting them. I do not want to be one of the complacent, one of the collaborators by apathy, who always let their own privilege protect itself with claims of respect while others are oppressed. When you express and believe that entire classes of human beings deserve to suffer for who or what they are, you have put yourself outside the circle of respect.
And yet….
What does this achieve? My anger doesn’t fix a damn thing. And even if I yoke good deeds and financial support for BLM and campaigning for anti-racists and party political work for justice (all good things), the damn thing stays unfixed. The damn thing is people who were once decent – who may still be decent in the non-bastard parts of their lives – who are now living in hate and prejudice and a lack of empathy. And it can’t be fixed by doxing or getting them fired or calling them you absolute broccoli (I was proud of that).
It’s not just that Jesus loves these people just as much as he loves me. It’s not just that he wants me to love them (because these are enemies if ever we had ‘em). It’s not just about being obedient.
It’s that we need to change their minds.
When Trump leaves, America will still have a huge population of racists. Boris didn’t create the Middle England that scapegoats foreigners and sneers at poor people even as it teeters on the edge of poverty itself. Huge swathes of people are holding reprehensible views and the best I have been able to do this year is make some of them much, much angrier.
I want 2021 to be different. I want to make some headway at fixing that damn thing.
I’m not going to pretend that I’ll stop getting angry or that I have any answers to this horrible tension between actively and decisively opposing genocidal ideologies and winning hearts and minds. But I’m contemplating two changes:
1. I may stop arguing with strangers
2. I may start arguing with friends and family
Too many times, I’ve been enraged by a stranger in a comment thread and gone to their profile to see what kind of stuff a hateful oxygen thief of a racist bastard posts on the regular, only to find a tribute to his dead mum, a post campaigning valiantly for LGBTQ rights or refugees and some actually solid memes. And instead of building on that, I’ve entrenched his position.
And too many times, I’ve let a passing comment from someone close to me slide because I didn’t want to ruin a perfectly nice afternoon.
Arguing with strangers is easy. It costs us nothing (except high blood pressure, a rush of stress hormones, any sense of peace, too many good nights’ sleep and So. Much. Time…)and the risks feel low. But when we’re talking to someone with whom we’d like to retain a relationship, we have to be more careful, speak more respectfully, make regular attempts to build common ground. We also have much more of a shot at having an effect. It’s just much, much harder. And more worthwhile.
We’re supposed to be kind. We are supposed to speak truth in love. We want to be known as good sons, daughters, siblings and friends. Which will make taking the time to convince people difficult. But we don’t have to change people completely. Just shifting the needle is worth something. Because loving someone means leaving them in a ditch of prejudice or hate is not an option. But neither does it mean kicking them in the face while they’re down there.
Hear me, though. I am not saying ‘we must try to empathise with the position of working class fascists’ or some such rot. Bad, hateful ideas are bad. But people can change their minds. And perhaps we need to stop pushing for holiness in others and start thinking of how we can be as cunning as serpents while remaining innocent as doves as we try to achieve more than our own aneurisms.
This is going to be harder for me than for you. I hate centrists more than right-wingers at this point. Which is objectively insane. But perhaps a pragmatic Matthew 10:16 approach is a better motivation for a person like me than ‘let’s all just try to get along’.
I’m also not pretending this is a resolution. No fad diet of fake friendliness for me.
I’m still going to enjoy watching people punch Nazis and KKK bullies. Let’s be honest, I’m probably still going to argue a little with randoms. But hopefully I will put more energy into shifting the views of people who trust me, and perhaps they will do the same. I think that would be more honouring to God than what I have been doing. And I think it may do more good. But balls, I am not looking forward to it. Maybe this is a diet after all.
If we, collectively, can create narratives that make stepping down from hateful beliefs easier rather than harder, perhaps 2021 will only be naturally, rather than socially horrific.
Happy New Year!
From the Podcast
Keeping it light, cheerful and optimistic, the latest episode of the Beer Christianity podcast is all about Hell, eternal conscious torment and annihilationism. You’re welcome. Like I said before: Happy New Year!
Play it from Spotify or listen below for a flavour:
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Nailed it! This pretty much sums up how I have been feeling all of 2020.