Fear doesn’t look good on anybody.
I know I’ve written about this before, but I’m more convinced than ever that at the root of all harm, sin, anger, attack, pride, manipulation, intimidation, pretty much anything bad we could do to or feel toward each other is fear. And it’s not pretty.
Now don’t get me wrong. Being afraid is not a sin. Many people have very valid reasons to be afraid. Some have been abused, mistreated, oppressed for years. Fear is a very real emotion and comes out in a number of different ways.
There’s a very interesting (and frustrating) phenomenon happening in our country these days. Admittedly, victims of various injustices were silenced and ignored for way too long. But it seems that the pendulum has swung (as pendulums tend to do) and now everyone who feels slighted in any way at any time is a victim.
What I’m noticing is that many times when someone feels wronged or offended these days, they go on the attack. In an ironic twist, suddenly the victim becomes the bully and starts making up rules of things that are no longer okay to be said. Any if anyone pushes back against their extreme reaction, they are publicly shamed as proof that these rules are necessary.
Now I’m all for the evolution of language. There are words that make me physically cringe that were a part of the common vernacular one or two generations ago.
But when an offended party appeals to the media or the court system and tries to eliminate/control language on a regular basis, it starts to feel a little exhausting.
Now for the sake of transparency, I used to do this myself in my marriage all the time. Brad and I have very different positions just about everything. And in the early days of our marriage, we were incapable of disagreeing in a healthy way. I hated conflict so to protect us (myself) from any unnecessary strife, I just started making up rules.
We would lock horns on a particular issue and instead of finding a kind, brave, respectful way to allow for differences of opinion, we would deem the topic off limits, never to be spoken of again.
Over the years, all those buried bombs turned into a marriage minefield. We tiptoed through conversations with each other, terrified that a single misstep would cause an explosion. There was little room for error and no benefit of the doubt. And the constant tension was as bad as, if not worse than, the argument that could have ensued.
Finally one day I had had enough. “You know what? This is ridiculous. We’re going to be married for a LONG TIME. If we keep making stuff off limits, we’re going to run out of words and pretty soon we won’t be able to talk about ANYTHING. No, I say we just stumble through it, give each other some grace to screw up and learn how to talk about difficult topics. I think it’s called growth.”
And we all lived happily ever after.
NOT.
Yeah, we hit walls, step on toes, crash into each other’s issues all the time. But we also constantly remind each other that we’re on the same team and somehow still end up in each other’s arms every night. It’s hard. It’s messy. But it’s real. And it’s good. There is trust. And there is grace. There has to be.
There is this amazing woman named Latasha Morrison who has fearlessly taken on one of the most dangerous minefields there is: racial reconciliation. Instead of creating a list of things that we’re not allowed to say, she has created a curriculum for small groups made up of different races to lead women (and men!) right into the warzone, to dig up bombs and disarm them one at a time.
It opens up awkward conversations, addresses stereotypes, charges right into the thick of ignorance and misunderstanding and forces people to speak the unspeakable. There is learning, there is connection, there is healing. And there is grace. There has to be.
I downloaded this curriculum over a year ago and have yet to work up the courage to gather a group of women of different races to start ‘tearing down walls and building bridges,’ as Tasha’s website says.
The courage represented in a movement like that is incredible. Because in order to disarm a bomb, you have to walk into the minefield and expose yourself to danger. Hard conversations require a great deal of personal risk. In some situations, hurt is inevitable. But on the other side is understanding, connection and a few less people who will assume the worst about each other. And the Kingdom of God gains a little more ground.
Because guess what, everybody. We’re all gonna mess up. If you have a relationship with anyone who practices a different religion than you, has a different sexual orientation than you, is supporting a different candidate than you, hell, even cheers for a different sports team than you (hey, some people are fanatical about sports, trust me, I live here), at some point, you ARE going to piss each other off.
And what are we going to do? End the relationship? Bury the bomb and try to tiptoe around it forever? Get on Facebook and cry foul and bully the offender for (maybe even unintentionally) victimizing you?
Paul instructs the Corinthian church on their (our) assignment to the ministry of reconciliation:
So from now on we regard no one from a worldly point of view. Though we once regarded Christ in this way, we do so no longer. Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come. The old has gone, the new is here! All this is from God, who reconciled us to Himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to Himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them. And He has committed to us the message of reconciliation (2 Corinthians 5:16-19).
God has reconciled us to Himself. Our job is to take that message to others that they might be reconciled to Him as well. And we can’t do that without a relationship. And we can’t have a relationship without saying something wrong at some point.
This whole idea of ‘safe space’ was confusing to me. I’ve heard about it before but I wasn’t really clear so I Googled it and I found The Safe Space Network website. It was fascinating.
In case anyone was wondering, here is their official definition:
A Safe Space is a place where anyone can relax and be able to fully express, without fear of being made to feel uncomfortable, unwelcome, or unsafe on account of biological sex, race/ethnicity, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, cultural background, religious affiliation, age, or physical or mental ability. A place where the rules guard each person’s self-respect and dignity and strongly encourage everyone to respect others.
Protected. By rules.
I scrolled down and found an extensive list of language and ideas that will not be tolerated. And I have to admit, I have no idea what 75% of them mean. Which means I’m probably breaking the rules all the time without even knowing it. Crap.
I think it’s heartbreaking that some people feel so threatened, that they have to create official safe spaces. Every living and breathing Christian should be a walking safe space.
Does that mean we condone sin, don’t talk about our beliefs and hide our faith? No. It means we love and accept all people because they are created in the image of God. And should we need to confront anything, it should be done with so much love and concern for another’s wellbeing that even if disagree, for heaven’s sake, we should still feel SAFE.
But so often we can’t find that in each other, so we have to hide behind rules to protect us.
So we’re safe behind our wall of rules. Great. No one can hurt us back here. No one can say much of anything, which makes the uniqueness we so desperately long to celebrate and express without threat null and void. But dammit, we’re SAFE.
Walls may keep any potential pain out. But it also locks you in. If you want to be truly known, genuinely connected and deeply loved, you must be willing to risk the possibility, no, FACE THE GUARANTEE of getting hurt. Those ‘safe spaces’ built on rules are self-constructed prisons of ambiguity, vagueness and shallow friendships. Anything deeper would break the rules and then you’re voted off the island.
I don’t see how you can ‘relax and fully express’ in these safe spaces. Your expression might break the rules. Maybe I’m misunderstanding, but to me, safe spaces sound like minefields. And the very thing that the safe-space creators are trying to protect themselves from (being controlled, stifled, judged) is exactly what their rules are doing to others.
What if we tried the opposite approach? What if instead of eliminating words from our vocabulary, we intentional sought to EXPAND our vocabulary? What if we gave each other grace to ask hard questions, enter difficult conversations for the sake of understanding? Isn’t that what we really want?
Could we just have a conversation instead of a court order?
Could we have a pow-wow instead of a press conference?
Could we lovingly confront instead of publicly condemn?
Now conversations don’t guarantee conversion. At the end of hard questions, we may have to agree to disagree. Connection is not based on agreement. It’s based on understanding.
Again, as language evolves, it makes sense that some words will slowly become off-limits and extinct. But let’s not rush that process.
We should not be willing to sacrifice our identity in Christ because it might offend someone. If our differences are too painful to bear, they can choose to not have a relationship with me or not do business with me. That’s allowed. (Well, kind of.)
Instead of hiding behind rules to protect ourselves, what if we linked arms with other brave people like Tasha, took a deep breath and walked carefully and lovingly into the minefields. Disarming bombs is dangerous work and there will be an occasional explosion. But the wounds don’t have to be fatal.
Let’s be in the business of building bridges instead of cases against each other. There is grace.
There has to be.
