My Revelation professor says that most of the book boils down to one simple truth: What you do matters. Over the last ten weeks she has spent almost every class period imploring us to know that the ways in which we represent Christ to the world have impact- they matter.
In my life there are many, many people I love. I am one amazingly lucky woman because my life is woven together with so many different ideas and viewpoints. I was forged by Republicans and Democrats, Women and Men. I was connected to the dirt of this earth by people of faith who believe in a God that whispered the stars into existence, by friends who believe that those stars are simply the result of a big bang, and those who hold both sides as truth. In my life I am blessed to love heterosexuals and homosexuals, Buddhists, Muslims, Christians, and Atheists. I am honored to have learned from Armenians, Caucasians, Asians, Africans, Puerto Ricans, Mexicans, and all the other beautiful colors that make up our world. I am me because of a wide variety of "you's".
And I've spent the last few months reflecting on these two ideas: how I live my life matters and all the diversity that breathed life into me. I've been trying to find ways to honor those who have taught me- to honor the God who loves me, and to honor the voice inside of me.
Tonight I was reading a comment thread on Facebook and I was shocked by the ways in which people speak to and about each other. I was hurt as people used the Christ, who is my whole world, as a weapon to bludgeon the other side. As I looked up from the glow of my computer I had to shake my head clear of the cobwebs because I had lost myself for a good hour in hate and vitriol and poison. All these conflicting opinions yelling at each other- but not really listening.
Each week at youth group I tell the Jr. Highers that I work with that this is a safe space. I encourage them to come to us, just as they are, and that they will have a place here. They belong. They know that there are very few things I won't tolerate, I can handle the occasional food fight or wrestling match- but the number one behavior that is absolutely banned is disrespect. I don't care if they like each other, but I care how they treat each other. But when I read comments on the internet I see that there are simply not the same rules. I think because we don't have to look each other in the eye we find it easier to unleash our perfectly crafted argument and not worry ourselves with how we come across. We forget that there is another human sitting on the other side of a screen.
This behavior goes beyond the ways that we handle ourselves online. Our world has become a brash place. I remember learning in history class that we once lived in a time where our President was protected by journalists who wouldn't photograph full body shots of him so his wheelchair wouldn't influence the nation. Today our President is barely treated as a human- let alone a man to be respected and frankly we didn't do much better with the last President either. I used to hear stories about news anchors that were seen as beacons of comfort during times of uncertainty. Today many of our journalists care more about ratings than they do truth.
We have stopped listening to those that think differently than we do. We have stopped letting ourselves engage in conversation and instead have turned our attention to winning. I say "we" because I am just as at fault as the rest of this world. I may have been shaped by many voices, but now that I know the tone and rhythm of my own voice, I seem to have stopped listening to anyone who disagrees with me.
Here's what I know to be true: How I live my life matters. The ways that I reflect Christ to those around me matters. How I love and listen and speak matters. So... tonight I take a step back from internet arguments and talking heads and heated debates over dinner. Tonight I choose to listen more than I speak. Tonight I remember that if I expect my students to respect each other I better be prepared to show them what respect looks like with how I live my life.
