CHAPTER 1
Reconciling a Violent World
"Some people will say it's velocity or physics that put it there. To me, it's anact of God," said Silecchia, who cried for twenty minutes after his discovery.
Silecchia, a Christian, found several crosses standing upright in the smolderingwreckage of the September 11 attack on the World Trade Center towers. The"crosses" were crossbeams that had fallen from the top of the collapsing northtower that had landed in an unusual position. Believing them to be a sign fromGod, Silecchia dubbed the area "God's House," and he called distraught rescueworkers there to pray. Word spread as clergy ministering on the site encounteredthe structures and told others about them.
Silecchia led a priest, Father Brian Jordan, to the site. "It was astounding,"Jordan said. "When he showed it to me, I was an instant believer."
Silecchia told the priest that the crosses should be saved for a permanentmemorial. Jordan agreed, and contacted Deputy Mayor Joseph Lhota to makearrangements. The most significant of the crosses was removed from the wreckage,affixed by ironworkers to a permanent base, and then placed on the high walkwayover West Street. Some three hundred people gathered there for prayer andreflection. Firefighters came. Police officers came. Construction workers,rescue personnel, Port Authority officers, and others—all gathered at the footof the twenty-feet-tall cross to watch Father Jordan, a Franciscan friar, blessthe cross and pray for "the healing mercy of God on all Americans."
"Behold the glory of the cross at ground zero," Jordan said. "This is our symbolof hope, our symbol of faith, our symbol of healing."
The workers prayed and sang "God Bless America" together before returning towork. A teary-eyed firefighter said that the cross helped him overcome hisanger. "We thought the devil was here, but with this cross, we know God ishere," the firefighter said.
Knowing that God is present, even in the midst of something that looks more likethe devil's work—that's reconciliation. And it is the work that you and I arecalled to do in this world. "But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, dogood to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuseyou. If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also ..." (Luke 6:27–29).That's what Jesus says. Nice words, but what do we actually do with them? DidJesus really mean that we should literally turn the other cheek and let someonehit us again?
How do we practice reconciliation in a violent world? This question haunts me,and perhaps it haunts you as well. How does one love a coworker who seems hell-benton sabotaging a successful career? How does one make peace with a spouse inthe midst of a broken marriage? And how do religious people resolve differenceswhen religious interpretations seem to lead to righteous indignation rather thanto reconciliation?
Jesus' words seem impossibly difficult to enact. We become like a little boy,frightened in the night. He screams, so his mother comes into his room tocomfort him. "It's okay," she says to her son, "God is with you, even in thedark." The little boy's response echoes one any of us might make: "But Mommy, Iwant someone with skin on."
"Put some skin on those words, Jesus," we too want to say. "Show me whatreconciliation looks like. Be practical, Jesus, because I'd be killed if Ilistened to you."
I went looking for God with skin on in 1988.1 was in seminary at Princeton, andI was given a grant to spend the summer in India. I spent half the summer inBombay (now known as Mumbai) observing a Christian social work agency inDharavi, still the largest slum area in the world according to Westernsociologists. The other half of the summer I went on pilgrimage to see God withskin on. For me that meant going to see Mother Teresa and the work she did.Feeding the harajan or children of God, washing the mucus and feces off thesick, and playing with colicky infants—these were some of the ways sheministered to Christ's body. I arrived in Calcutta by train, late in the day,exhausted. My exhaustion deepened as I saw human horses running through thestreets carrying people from the upper caste or class.
I woke up the next morning at 5:00 a.m. to go to matins, or morning prayer, andpray with Mother Teresa. Being in the presence of someone who had become like arock star to me felt like a dream. "What's the most important thing in thespiritual life?" I asked her. She said, "To pray." And she concluded, "Not justwith words." It was not quite the concrete answer that I wanted.
Mother Teresa came to the United States in 1990. She was attending a meeting inBoston. Someone stood up at the end of her talk and asked, "Mother, since thereis a sharp decline in religious vocations, especially in women's orders, can youtell me the secret of why the Order of the Missionaries of Charity continues togrow?"
Mother Teresa responded, "I give them Jesus."
"But Mother, I wonder if you offer a certain technique, such as requiring thesisters to always wear their habits, or ..."
Mother Teresa interrupted, "I give them Jesus."
"Yes Mother, we are all aware of your profound work, but I'm asking aboutsomething different ... something else."
Mother Teresa responded, "I give them Jesus; there is nothing else."
I told this story in the Church of the Holy Family in Chapel Hill, NorthCarolina, where I once served as an assistant priest. I got an e-mail from aparishioner praising me for the profound story, but she asked, "How do I giveJesus?" Her question—the question we all want to ask—returns us to the originalquestion: How does one practice the ideals of Jesus? How, in the world, can welove our enemies and be reconciled?
My only answer to these questions is to say that we must inhabit reconciliation.There is nothing else. In Western culture today we so often focus on invitingGod into our lives—as if God weren't there already. The story we tell is the "meand God" story. But if we are going to be reconciling people, we must learn toaccept God's invitation to inhabit the Holy One's life. The goal of created lifeis to inhabit God rather than to focus on God's inhabiting us. "So we areambassadors for Christ, since God is making his appeal through us; we entreatyou on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. For our sake God made Christ tobe sin who knew no sin, so that in Christ "we might become the righteousness ofGod" (2 Corinthians 5:20–21), writes St. Paul. We are invited to be in Christ—tobecome the righteous of God, to inhabit God—by reconciling what has broken us.We're invited to engage in Christian spiritual practices, to use our imaginativeabilities to overcome provincial thinking, and to reconcile the brokenhearted.Ultimately, what we are all called to offer each other is God's reconciling lovefor the world in which we all live and in which we can even flourish.
In this book, I hope to paint a picture of what inhabiting God looks like(especially for Christians in the so-called developed world, who may not beaware of irreconcilable differences on a global scale). The current and globaltensions between conservatives and liberals, Muslim and Christian, rich andpoor, those of color and those called white, women and men, and homosexual andheterosexual cannot simply be resolved by coming to consensus, for such aconsensus will never occur. Our work as Christians is to will reconciliation asChrist did and to recognize that reconciliation is a slow and arduous process.It doesn't happen overnight, but it won't happen at all unless we begin. Willingthat reconciliation, engaging in spiritual practices that promote it, thinkingcreatively about ways to reconcile with others—these and other practices honorChrist and the ways he operates in the world—nonviolently and forever focused onreconciliation. Practicing reconciliation puts skin on God.
Though it doesn't always sound like it, this slow and arduous work is good newsbecause we no longer have to think of reconciliation as a term paper that wehave to write ourselves and turn in on time. Think of it as an oak tree growingfrom a small seedling into a large tree, a process that takes many years andhappens only when water, sun, and nutrients are provided. God provides—Godwills—the conditions that make growth in reconciliation possible, just as Godprovides the nutrients the oak seedling needs to grow. That this miracle belongsto God, however, doesn't let us off the hook. The oak tree can grow withouthuman assistance, but God needs our hands and feet and words to bring aboutreconciliation.
Being a reconciling person—enacting reconciliation on earth—also requiresopenness to God's work within us. We can participate in the process ofreconciliation. We can even commit ourselves to actively engage in practicesthat help us become more reconciling as people. But ultimately, the final workis God's, and it will be enacted if we cooperate in the process. And God isalways larger and more capable than we can expect or imagine.
I discovered that for myself one morning in Cardiff, Wales. It was a Sundaymorning and, having grown up in the Bible Belt of the southern United States, Iknew that it was time to go to church. The bells were tolling, and I knew theytolled, in part, for me. I departed my bed and breakfast accommodations and hitthe cobblestone streets in search of a church, not sure of where I'd find achurch. Fortunately, God's messenger arrived—or so I thought. He was a youngblack guy walking down the cobblestones ahead of me. Another black guy in Waleswas enough of an anomaly for me to believe that God had a hand in the"coincidence." He carried a guitar and was out walking at church time, so Ideduced that through him God was leading me to church.
I followed him as best I could, hoping that he would lead me to a bustlingcommunity church, full of young people, music, and a social gospel. And then acar pulled alongside my angel from God. He got in and they drove away.I was devastated and felt abandoned. But it was church time and I had to go.Like Pavlov's dog, I was obedient to the tolling bell and wandered into anAnglican church with cold seats that felt like stone. Only a smattering of folksdotted the massive Gothic edifice, mostly elderly women with what looked likepurple hair. As I reflect on what was about to become my epiphany, the Borg, theenemy on the television show Star Trek: The Next Generation, comes to mind.Those villains, the Borg, were so confident in their military prowess that astranger could board their ship and they wouldn't even acknowledge his or herpresence unless they perceived it as an imminent threat. As I sat in that cold,hard, Gothic church, I felt like Borg surrounded me. No one acknowledged mypresence unless I tried to speak to him or her (or sit next to one of them). I,as a young African American male, tried my hardest to avoid presenting myself asa threat to their established, white, British, traditional world. To makematters worse, the preacher that day spoke about the efficacy of used cars—and Ithink he actually tried to sell his own during the service. There were noreferences to the day's biblical lessons or to the Gospel in his sermon. I feltlike I was in T. S. Eliot's "Wasteland." Even so, God picked this most unlikelyplace for my epiphany. It was there, with the purple-haired Borg, that I heardmy call to the priesthood.
It's hard for me to imagine a more unlikely scenario. One is supposed to hearGod calling you through great passion and conviction. Isn't that the way it'ssupposed to happen? Something dramatic is supposed to occur, something like aburning bush, an angel with an annunciation. And yet, God's call came to me in achurch that felt wholly alien instead of nourishing. It was as if that Borg-likeAnglican church in Wales was the only setting in which God could speak to meabout the needs of the world and not just about my own needs.
God works, as they say, in mysterious ways, as well as in mysterious times andplaces. Sometimes the Borg—the enemy—is actually the angel of annunciation ifwe're willing to be open and attentive. Reconciliation is all around us if weare willing to inhabit it because God has already reconciled us. Paul explains,"So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passedaway; see, everything has become new! All this is from God, who [has already]reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry ofreconciliation" (2 Corinthians 5:17–18). God has already reconciled us throughChrist. Our task is to practice the presence of Christ and live (inhabit) suchdivine life—not as some Utopian vision. But as concrete reality.
CHAPTER 2
A Typology of Reconciliation
Some centuries ago, the Pope decided that all the Jews had to leave the Vatican.Naturally, there was a big uproar from the Jewish community. So the Pope made adeal. He would have a religious debate with a member of the Jewish community. Ifthe Jew won, the Jews could stay. If the Pope won, the Jews would have to leave.
The Jews realized that they had no choice. So they picked a middle-aged mannamed Moishe to represent them. Moishe asked for one change to the debate. Tomake it more interesting, neither side would be allowed to talk. The Popeagreed.
The day of the great debate came. Moishe and the Pope sat opposite each otherfor a long time before the Pope raised his hand and showed three fingers. Afterseveral moments of reflection, Moishe looked back at him and raised one finger.
The Pope thought about Moishe's response and then waved his fingers in a circlearound his head. Looking a little angry, Moishe pointed to the ground where hesat. The Pope, appearing a little frustrated, pulled out a wafer and a glass ofwine. With little thought, Moishe pulled out an apple.
The Pope stood up and said, "I give up. This man is too good. The Jews canstay."
An hour later, the cardinals were all around the Pope asking him what happened.The Pope said: "First I held up three fingers to represent the Trinity. Heresponded by holding up one finger to remind me that there was still one Godcommon to both our religions. Then I waved my finger around me to show him thatGod was all around us. He responded by pointing to the ground and showing thatGod was also right here with us. I pulled out the wine and the wafer to showthat God absolves us from our sins. He pulled out an apple to remind me oforiginal sin. He had an answer for everything. What could I do?"
Meanwhile, the Jewish community had crowded around Moishe. "What happened?" theyasked. "Well," said Moishe, "First he said to me that the Jews had three days toget out of here. I told him that not one of us was leaving. Then he told me thatthis whole city would be cleared of Jews. I let him know that we were stayingright here."
"And then?" asked a woman.
"I don't know," said Moishe. "He took out his lunch and I took out mine."
The joke illustrates one of the most ignored truths about reconciliation: eachof us sees through a lens constructed from the events and lessons of our ownlives. Our own lives. Not the life of the person across the table from us. Andthat often prevents us from listening to each other and actually hearing whatanother person believes or feels. Maybe it seems obvious to you, but in my ownexperience, it's a source of deep misunderstanding and of our unwillingness toreconcile with each other. If you'll humor me for a bit, let me show you howmuch difference your own lens can make.
Before we wade through my more elaborate typology of reconciliation, I ask youfirst to take this short survey. This isn't a test with right or wrong answers.The survey is simply a tool to help you recognize the ways in which youpersonally approach reconciliation. Read each statement below and circle theanswer that most closely approximates your response: Y (yes), N (no), or P(possibly).
Your answers won't be graded right or wrong, but they should help you thinkabout your own current spiritual beliefs and practices. The questions and thesurvey that follows are designed to help you know yourself better so you canbecome a better reconciler in the world around you.
You might also find it illuminating to share your answers with others you trust,and to listen to their responses. If you're reading this book with a group or ifyou're a member of a prayer or spirituality group, share these questions withthe group and listen to each person's response. That alone will be an exercisein reconciliation, as you'll no doubt discover a wide variety of opinionsexpressed by individual group members.
How one understands self and community, especially in relationship to what Iname as "nonviolent types," is also critical in learning to inhabitreconciliation. When we all see the world through our own lenses and press ourperspective as the true and only one, we move away from inhabitingreconciliation. Instead, people and nations often move toward violence as a wayof pressing their point or getting their own way. If we are to inhabitreconciliation, we must know what our own impulses are in terms of violence ornonviolence. This next survey will help you understand how you tend to see theworld, as well as how others might view the exact same world.
