The Sauntering Pilgrim

To love someone, to be in authentic relationship with someone, is to value that person. It is to recognize that person as having an essential, indispensable role to play in God’s ongoing creation, even if I don’t have a clue what that role might be. It’s to recognize that without that person, I can never be the whole person God is creating me to be. And then it is to act toward that person accordingly, developing a practical ethic of all-inclusive community in which no one is left out, devalued, or disadvantaged by my action or inaction.

That’s what Paul had in mind when he referred to the gospel, that “in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us” (2 Cor. 5:19). As a result of what God was doing in Christ, and is doing still, all people are now one people, the integrity of creation is complete, and we cannot be whole without each other.

So then, how do we relate to one another? How do we love one another? First, we recognize that we may not think or reason alike, and we may not practice our faith alike; in fact, the faith we live may look very different from the faith others live. The values we profess and practice may be different, and we may not understand one another. But we may still value one another as essential despite our differences.

That’s why Paul admonished the church to welcome others with weaker or different faith, “but not for the purpose of quarreling over opinions” (Rom. 14:1). He knew we need to have differences and factions among us, because it’s in the interface of differences that the truth that makes us free is revealed, the truth that we are now one in Christ. So we must not judge one another, as if we could discern who is right with God and who is not. Being right or wrong with God, Paul contended, is a matter between each person and God (Rom. 14:10-12).

Among all the theories and theologies about how to value one another is a simple five-step process. It comes from New York-based educator and author Irshad Manji in her book Don’t Label Me: An Incredible Conversation for Divided Times (St. Martin’s Press, 2019). And if ever there were divided times, these are those times. Here’s her process for how to turn disagreements into opportunities for reconciliation.

First, take a deep breath; it immediately begins to calm the mind, so instead of being overwhelmed by anger and stress, you can think more clearly. In the language of our scriptures, the words for “wind,” “breath,” and “spirit” are the same. So first, inhale deeply of the spirit that gives life equally to you and all living things.  

Second, find or create common ground beyond the breath or spirit you share; acknowledge that you’re going to disagree with the other person, then recognize there’s more to that person than this one issue. Acknowledging someone’s humanity positively, acknowledging that the truth of life dwells equally in the other person, is ground for a conversation, and it can open your mind and the other’s to hearing what you both have to say.

Third, ask a sincere question; sincerity goes a long way in building bridges, and expressing curiosity opens a door to learning, understanding, growth, and reconciliation. Ask the other person what you’re missing about his or her point of view. By asking someone to teach you, that person might become willing to learn something from you, and you begin to replace inquisition with inquiry.

Fourth, once you’ve asked the question, listen, not to poke holes in the other’s argument or manipulate the other, and not to win your point, but to learn, to grow into something more, to live the kind of life Jesus lived, in which he grew in wisdom and stature and in divine and human favor (Luke 2:52).

Finally, ask another question with three simple words, “Tell me more.” The more we listen to one another, not to refute but to hear, the more we may see that our differences, when we listen with respect, can be the grounds for productive, healing, reconciling conversations. That’s where God’s peace and justice – the reign of God, the kingdom of heaven, the bountiful table of God’s great banquet – may grow and blossom.

There’s a reason this process works so well. At its core is the critical change in our relationship with God that Jeremiah foresaw and that became real in Jesus. “The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah. I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts. No longer shall they teach one another, or say to each other, ‘Know the Lord,’ for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, says the Lord; for I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sin no more” (Jer. 31:31, 33b-34).

Each of us carries within the law of God, the law of life, the basic principles for how to live in harmony with God, with others, and with all creation. Every person has those principles imprinted within. We don’t need to teach those principles to others, for they already know them; we need to get in touch with those principles in our own hearts. And we need to trust others to get in touch with those principles in their hearts; we need to encourage and support them in the discovery and application of the principles of life they carry. And when we’re in conversation or communion with others, we need to listen for the truth they express, for it is there, even though it may for a time seem lost in the overgrowth.

In Sanskrit, the word “namaste” means literally, “I bow to you,” but it has more poetic translations. Here’s my adaptation of one of them. “I honor the place in you where the divine principles of life reside. I honor the place in you of love, light, and peace. I honor the place in you where, when you are in that place in you and I am in that place in me, God’s reconciliation is made perfect.” Namaste. Or I might use a word more familiar to us: peace, shalom.

Imagine if, instead of trying to correct others and teach them the “right way” (which usually means “my way”), we were to truly listen to one another with an attitude of namaste, of shalom, of peace – and since, as Thomas Merton wrote, nothing has ever been said about God that has not already been said better by the wind in the pine trees, imagine if we were to be quiet and listen to all of nature in the same way – well, it just might seem as if there is a new creation after all, that everything old had passed away, and everything had become fresh and new (2 Cor. 5:17). ▪