"No worse than any man"

I remember that in one of Rob Bell’s books, he tells the story of an American soldier who is about to execute a Iraqi prisoner. I don’t remember all the details, but I recall that at the last minute, the Iraqi prisoner receives a phone call. He is allowed to take it, and it turns out it is his father, who he's been out of touch and on bad terms with for years. Rob Bell talks about how the soldier has a moment when he realises he and this man, ‘the enemy’, are the same. The soldier is struck because he has a strained relationship with his father as well. He watches and listening to this man crying and apologising to his father on the phone, and it hits home. He realises that they are standing on different sides of the war but they have the same hurts and fears and hopes. The enemy suddenly becomes a friend.

A few months back, I was listening to the news on the radio. There were reports of another politician being held to account and another public inquiry being called for another wrongdoing. It struck me how obsessed our culture has become with assigning blame and demonising wrongdoers. Yet, when I look around me, I see a world full of individuals who constantly fall short and frankly leave a lot to be desired. The judgementalism of the public mood and the inevitable failures of human nature strike a strange tension.

There is a human nature that lies beneath all the differences we see in each other. Underneath, we all share the same flawed humanity. We are brothers and sisters, underneath it all. When you look at another person, really look and see, you can see that they are just like you, no more and no less. It is humbling. Words of judgement then stick in the throat.

I love 'Les Miserables'. I think every Christian needs to see it to enhance their understanding of God, grace and the gospel. In ‘Les Miserables’, Valjean says to Javere, who insists that Valjean will undoubtedly kill him for revenge:

You are wrong, and always have been wrong
I’m a man, no worse than any man
You are free, and there are no conditions
No bargains or petitions
There’s nothing that I blame you for
You’ve done your duty, nothing more.

I am a huge Les Mis fan but no matter how many times I hear these words, they are still powerful. They are powerful to me because I really struggle to see people in this way. I struggle to see past the things I disagree with, that I think are offensive and wrong and unjust. I struggle to forgive them, accepting that I am just as sinful and wretched. And so I struggle with anger, unforgiveness, judgementalism. This is even more true of Christians and churches - people who I should identify as my wider family. I feel the anger more deeply because they are claiming to act in the truths that I root my life in, which I find hard to forgive.

I recently posted a poem by Joel McKerrow. In it he says: "To my brothers who say that God hates fags - Oh how I wish they were not my brothers. Sometimes it is easier to love your enemies than your kin." These words really strike me to the core. I really struggle to affiliate with those people who do awful things in the name of the Lord I worship. I struggle to really act out the sentiment behind Joel Mckerrow's questions: "Who am I to be bigoted about the bigoted? Who am I to condemn those who condemn?"

I wish I had more grace, more patience, more forgiveness inside of me.

A colleague said to me today, "I don't really know how you feel about church other than that you have angst about church." It was said as a joke and we laughed about it a lot - but it really gave me a mirror on myself. What my colleague said was true.  Virtually everything I say about church to other people, the things I am loudest about, are negative. All this comes from a place of disappointment, anger and passion for justice and the poor. But that is the way people hear it. No positives, just negatives. A damning reflection.

In that moment I realised that if I were to die tomorrow, that would be part of my legacy. "Has angst about church" might be one of the biggest things many remember about me, including this colleague.

This made me sad.

In the end, I know that God sees and understands the reasons why I struggle with church, many Christians, and forgiveness. But I don't want this to be my legacy.

As the years go by, I am beginning to understand more and more why ordinary radicals like Shane Claiborne are so gracious in the way they speak about systems they believe are wrong and the people in it. Everything Shane says is infused with a sense of the sacredness of humanity, not of attack and judgement. Every impassioned plea carries with it respect of everyone, no matter what their point of view or theological position. I understand more now why Christians pursue holiness of character. If you are trying to live and serve radically, you can't waste your time on judgement and unforgiveness. It's exhausting and counterproductive. And it's not gospel.

I want something different from the bitterness and anger I hold inside me. I want a real, life-shattering understanding that the enemy is my brother and sister. I want real love, grace and forgiveness alongside a spirit which pours itself out for the poor.

I want that to be my legacy.