I’m still trying to wrap my head and my heart around the latest transition. We’re back in Florida and I’m not quite sure how to adjust. It’s all natural and easy to get back into the groove of things but it’s my mental state that isn’t just as it was. It hits me at odd times too. I try to convince myself, often, not to feel guilty about being here or about the luxuries afforded us, though it’s not easy. I’m not sure guilt does anyone any good, though I think it’s pretty natural and healthy at times. You can’t let it take over though. Been reading “Good News About Injustice” and it’s helping me process a lot of the junk that we’ve been thinking about since Ghana.
The hard thing about having wise people in your life is that you always have to listen to reason! I’m kidding, of course. But sometimes you really just want to be angry and vent or let all the crap out that doesn’t make any sense but you feel anyways. I’m thankful to have people that let me do this; I do know the right response and the proper answers to these feelings, but sometimes the answers just don’t add up with the emotions.
I know that I’m supposed to relate myself to the Pharisees and to Judas, but sometimes the most I can admit to is being like Peter. I may not always be able to admit that I pounded a nail into the cross (though I know I did) I can admit, at least, that I denied him. That I didn’t do anything to stop it from happening. That I was complicit in the act through my silence, or through my inaction; by running away. I contribute to the injustice in the world when I forget the hope that I have in my heart and I do nothing. I often want to run away from pain. It’s not the way anyone wants to live, but it’s also not something anyone can avoid. I figure I might as well experience pain for the right reasons since I’m bound to experience it either way. Dealing with heartbreak for injustice you see seems at least to be a worthy cause for pain. It’s hard not to allow it to debilitate you, though. If it renders you useless, then there’s no point. You have to remain hopeful, and I believe the only way to do this is through knowing the one who gives hope. The only one who loves even those of us who run away, who deny him, even us who nailed him there.
The truth is, I don’t want to love those people. As Yancey puts it I don’t want to admit that those who sin differently than me receive grace just the same as I do. I’m not saying all sins are equal, but I do believe the potential is inside me for evil as much as there is for good. I just struggle differently than those I find so repulsive. It’s not an easy pill to swallow. But somehow it actually helps me believe that there is still hope, because I know that each person has a chance for redemption, and even those I can’t stand are still made in the image of a beautiful God who finds something wonderful in them. I’m glad because I know I’m one of those people that some people can’t stand and it’s reassuring to know that even people like me have something good inside, something worth loving.

Here’s my favorite part, so far, of Haugen’s book;
“The oppressor knows that the primary reason we do nothing is because we have lost any hope of making a difference. It is not that we lack power, compassion, courage or knowledge. Rather, we lack a sense of hope that allows us to take what we have into the fray. By sheer inertia, therefore, we lend our own weight to the downward cycle of despair. Our lack of hope keeps us from the front lines of engagement. And our absence only makes the oppressor look stronger, compounding our own despair and that of those who might otherwise be prepared to fight.”

I found this to be very true. I liken it to the stock market panic, when people start pulling out it causes others to fear the worst and pull out as well and leave nothing but hopelessness. There have been plenty of times when we have wanted to give up and walk away. Chalk it up to a good lesson God wanted to teach us and move on to something easier with the knowledge in our pockets. But we know that in a way we would be lending to the forces of despair and the hopelessness that we want to fight.
It’s frustrating that it can’t be somehow easier, but we’ve seen those who pin it down in a formulaic process and that doesn’t seem to do justice to the intricate situations and personalities of the victims. It often ends up oversimplifying lives and not allowing the reality of the situation to make you uncomfortable. This usually ends up creating bad formulas or simply ineffective ones that make no difference at all or actually hurt those we are supposedly helping.

“Some of us grow so frustrated by the fact that something as important and wonderful as justice cannot be reduced to a handy word formula that we begin to give up on justice – believing that something so vague cannot be so important or wonderful after all, even concluding that it probably doesn’t actually exist. Similarly, some people find the meaning of life so elusive that they also give up on its pursuit.”

I feel like I’m repeating myself too much. I hope a little bit of this makes some sense.