She told me this as I was buying my baking potatoes and broccoli. I am fairly certain that this means she doesn’t know I am an American, but then again one can never tell in the hairy armpit. She continued, “I hate the Greeks because they won’t recognize our name, I hate the Bulgarians because they think we are one of them, and I hate the Americans because they are such bullies around the world.” My produce lady in one fell swoop summed up the politics and attitudes of my entire neighborhood.
What is so intriguing about this dialogue is that this lady considers herself our friend. I think the lesson I learn here is that people can receive you on your own terms if they remain unaware of your political connections/histories/leanings, (regardless how powerless/helpless/uninvolved/unwilling you may be in relationship to those connections). I wonder if I can apply this to my relationships that are moving in a spiritual direction? Is this being “wise as a serpent and innocent as a dove”?
My produce lady could have (and would have had she thought of it) said just as well, “I hate every religion (other than Orthodoxy).” And once again, in a nutshell she would have captured the religious politics and attitudes of my neighborhood.
What this means that my neighbors love me, but they hate my origins and faith. The question then becomes how to bridge the like and dislike? Lets make it more practical. My neighbor, the dirty old man who lives next door . . . he and I ran into each other a couple of days ago on the street. He was hugging on me and talking about how much he has missed me and how soon can we sit and drink a coffee together! But he too, as much as he loves me, often has a hard time getting beyond the fact that I am not Orthodox (he has gotten past the fact that I am an American, because according to him I don’t really act like one. But what does an American act like? Our diversity is a little breathtaking for largely mono-cultural perspectives to get a grip on). When he and I starting talking about Christ, he changes the subject to religion. Its the automatic knee-jerk reaction to Faith in the hairy armpit. Where do you go from there?
What is so intriguing about this dialogue is that this lady considers herself our friend. I think the lesson I learn here is that people can receive you on your own terms if they remain unaware of your political connections/histories/leanings, (regardless how powerless/helpless/uninvolved/unwilling you may be in relationship to those connections). I wonder if I can apply this to my relationships that are moving in a spiritual direction? Is this being “wise as a serpent and innocent as a dove”?
My produce lady could have (and would have had she thought of it) said just as well, “I hate every religion (other than Orthodoxy).” And once again, in a nutshell she would have captured the religious politics and attitudes of my neighborhood.
What this means that my neighbors love me, but they hate my origins and faith. The question then becomes how to bridge the like and dislike? Lets make it more practical. My neighbor, the dirty old man who lives next door . . . he and I ran into each other a couple of days ago on the street. He was hugging on me and talking about how much he has missed me and how soon can we sit and drink a coffee together! But he too, as much as he loves me, often has a hard time getting beyond the fact that I am not Orthodox (he has gotten past the fact that I am an American, because according to him I don’t really act like one. But what does an American act like? Our diversity is a little breathtaking for largely mono-cultural perspectives to get a grip on). When he and I starting talking about Christ, he changes the subject to religion. Its the automatic knee-jerk reaction to Faith in the hairy armpit. Where do you go from there?
2 comments:
Welcome to the real world, buddy!
Imagine an Orthodox Jew living in Toccoa, GA a couple decades ago. Or a Muslim living there today. (Or a Jew living there today, perhaps.)
Some of those Georgia Baptists might have liked the Jew or the Mulim personally, but they would have absolute and unreflective hated towards the faith that they belonged to and the country that they represented.
And a lot of those Christians would have despised the individual no matter how well behaved he was.
It's just the way the world is.
We can deplore the attitude whether exhibited by Christians towards others or by non-Christians towards us.
We should actually deplore it more when it's by Christians towards others.
...then when we see the behavior in other religious (or atheistic) groups towards us, we can shrug if off.
"Those people aren't any better than most Christians."
That helps me accept their hostility towards us. How could we expect anything different?
Dave,
I read a story on the web a couple days ago. The story was about atheists in Pennsylvania that formed a group and put up their own Web site called BlasphemyChallenge (.com). In order to get your face on their video site, you must deny the existence of God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit. They site Mark 3:29 as their challenge. They say things like, "OK is God going to strike me dead? Of course not, cuz He doesn't exist." The video shows many young people indulging in this dangerous "game," (all of them 20-something). Each one says, "I deny God the Father. . . " You get the picture.
I was sickened. I felt this stabbing pain in my heart as the Spirit within me grieved. Then I realized, these young people probably never had a positive example of Christ in their lives. Maybe no example. Maybe hypocrisy. Maybe legalism and unconditional love from the church. And I thought, "Oh Lord, is that how the world sees Christians? Is that how my world sees me? Please make me more like You so that Your love overflows into the lives of every person I encounter."
The last thing I want is for people to say, "I hate Bulgarians, Greeks, and Joans!"
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