I chose to title this blog as Combating Hate with Love, as it has seemed to me that temperatures have been coming to a boiling point in the culture wars lately, and those of us who are marginalized by all these toxic verbal (and tragically, sometimes physical) battles going on need to be able take a break every now and then so that we can become empowered to more easily respond with love and not more hate.
It’s
hard for those of us who are less privileged, especially those of us targeted
with an immense amount of hate from people who have no empathy for our lived
experiences. I hope to eventually be able to share my story with you as a woman
who is navigating the often mixed and hate-filled waters of the church, as well
as the larger world.
Love isn’t easy when people make you the object of so much scorn. Especially when some of those people making you the object of much scorn believe themselves to be the marginalized and persecuted ones, even if that is not at all the case.
Which leads me to the second reason I titled this blog the way I did:
Many Christians today are lovely people. I’m privileged to know many of them, and I still count myself as one of them (even if it’s hard for me to do this sometimes, given the hostility I often feel from other Christians based on my “otherness”—that is, the aspects of me in which I am not “like everyone else”). But the interesting thing is, many Christians like to tell people like me, “We love people like you, even though people like you hate us. It’s what Jesus would command us to do.”
The thing is, in too many cases, their love often feels like hate. Sometimes, Christian love can be genuine, real, no strings attached. But other times, it’s condescension wrapped with a pretty bow, hostile narcissism covered with a rich chocolate coating. It can feel like someone says that they love you when they really just want you to end up being a certain way, or agreeing with their particular ideology about you.
And because of that, the temptation for people in our position is to lash out. And frankly, some of us already have done this. If you have, I’m not going to guilt you over it. It’s understandable, but it’s something we have to move past and grow beyond, as challenging as it is. Otherwise, those who oppress us—specifically, the Christians who say that they “love us” with their supposed “truth” claims about us—will have more ammunition, more reason to claim that we are “hating” them and therefore somehow “persecuting” them.
I actually won’t tell you why I in particular often feel marginalized just yet. You may have guesses, and those guesses may be right. And you may already know because you already know me.
But if you don’t know me (or my background), I want to first tell you my story. I want you to learn about who I am as a person first…it’s important for me to show that in many ways, I’m really not all that different from you. And if you’re someone who has walked in similar shoes, or who may be less privileged than I am, I hope this blog is of some encouragement to you.
I do believe in Jesus’ exhortations to love those who don’t love us. That may mean, though, that we need to take a step back sometimes and do some self care…not because we’re selfish, but because without reasonable self care and appropriate boundaries, we cannot love those who don’t love us well.
Also, loving those who don’t love us does not necessarily mean actively having toxic people in your life whom you feel obligated to “love” with an outpouring of your emotional resources, especially if you’re a person with not much privilege who is already targeted by such people.
Boundaries are so important. The goal, though, is to grow past our bitterness, if we are to love those who don’t love us. If you have no interest in loving those who don’t love you, please don’t feel pressured by this blog post to join me on this journey, but please also know that you are still welcome to read along too. You too may have been hurt, and the thought of wanting anything to do with an oppressor is too much to think about right now. That’s okay. We’re not in the business of forcing people to be around oppressors. We’re in the business of simply trying to remain kind, even when people are unkind to us.
I write this blog hopefully as a form and process of healing. I will moderate comments on it, quite strictly. If you insult others or behave in a generally hurtful and unsafe manner, I won’t allow your comments.
I hope this helps anyone out there who needs an encouraging voice.
Love isn’t easy when people make you the object of so much scorn. Especially when some of those people making you the object of much scorn believe themselves to be the marginalized and persecuted ones, even if that is not at all the case.
Which leads me to the second reason I titled this blog the way I did:
Many Christians today are lovely people. I’m privileged to know many of them, and I still count myself as one of them (even if it’s hard for me to do this sometimes, given the hostility I often feel from other Christians based on my “otherness”—that is, the aspects of me in which I am not “like everyone else”). But the interesting thing is, many Christians like to tell people like me, “We love people like you, even though people like you hate us. It’s what Jesus would command us to do.”
The thing is, in too many cases, their love often feels like hate. Sometimes, Christian love can be genuine, real, no strings attached. But other times, it’s condescension wrapped with a pretty bow, hostile narcissism covered with a rich chocolate coating. It can feel like someone says that they love you when they really just want you to end up being a certain way, or agreeing with their particular ideology about you.
And because of that, the temptation for people in our position is to lash out. And frankly, some of us already have done this. If you have, I’m not going to guilt you over it. It’s understandable, but it’s something we have to move past and grow beyond, as challenging as it is. Otherwise, those who oppress us—specifically, the Christians who say that they “love us” with their supposed “truth” claims about us—will have more ammunition, more reason to claim that we are “hating” them and therefore somehow “persecuting” them.
I actually won’t tell you why I in particular often feel marginalized just yet. You may have guesses, and those guesses may be right. And you may already know because you already know me.
But if you don’t know me (or my background), I want to first tell you my story. I want you to learn about who I am as a person first…it’s important for me to show that in many ways, I’m really not all that different from you. And if you’re someone who has walked in similar shoes, or who may be less privileged than I am, I hope this blog is of some encouragement to you.
I do believe in Jesus’ exhortations to love those who don’t love us. That may mean, though, that we need to take a step back sometimes and do some self care…not because we’re selfish, but because without reasonable self care and appropriate boundaries, we cannot love those who don’t love us well.
Also, loving those who don’t love us does not necessarily mean actively having toxic people in your life whom you feel obligated to “love” with an outpouring of your emotional resources, especially if you’re a person with not much privilege who is already targeted by such people.
Boundaries are so important. The goal, though, is to grow past our bitterness, if we are to love those who don’t love us. If you have no interest in loving those who don’t love you, please don’t feel pressured by this blog post to join me on this journey, but please also know that you are still welcome to read along too. You too may have been hurt, and the thought of wanting anything to do with an oppressor is too much to think about right now. That’s okay. We’re not in the business of forcing people to be around oppressors. We’re in the business of simply trying to remain kind, even when people are unkind to us.
I write this blog hopefully as a form and process of healing. I will moderate comments on it, quite strictly. If you insult others or behave in a generally hurtful and unsafe manner, I won’t allow your comments.
I hope this helps anyone out there who needs an encouraging voice.
