Is it me, or does it feel like the world as we thought we knew it is dying right in front of us?
Two weeks ago, Orlando. Before that was San Bernardino. Before that was Mother Emmanuel Church in South Carolina. We hold vigils and we begin our never-ending discussion about “rights,” as if the right to simply breathe was insufficient to entice us to question some of our pride of ownership and what seems to be a constant need to fear someone or something in order to be a full American.
But that can’t be. It wouldn’t make sense – it isn’t us. So we build a memorial and we move on.
But then it came to Federal Way. Oh, it was smaller, perhaps, more like the never-ending line of those who have died in our cities: murdered because they were in gangs, or had the misfortune to live where gangs were seemingly better protected than people. Or maybe it was just because they were different, or maybe because on a bad night they were murdered just because someone could do it.
There has to be a reason why anger, fear, mistrust and a disregard for human life have become epidemic. I don’t know; maybe it’s me. I am inner-city, struggling-neighborhood born and bred – but this feels different. I was also raised on Martin Luther King Jr., the words spoken in my Father’s church and in the shadow of the Klan. We were called to be a community. We were called to be “for” one another – not because it was easy and not because it always made us feel good or even made us like one another.
We were to be community because only in a community could we grow bonds of trust where there were none. It was there that we could find hope. We need hope. We need strategies for community. We need to grow relationships that reject violence as an option.
We need people of integrity willing to step forward to be “for” one another. Fear-mongering and name-calling is not only beneath our dignity, they have also already failed. Racism, cultural exclusion, xenophobia and violence have marred our history. They are not ideals sufficient to protect our children. They cannot create a future worth having. We need to learn – or relearn – community.
So what does it mean to create community?
First, a call to community means understanding that community can never be experienced in isolation. The idea that community is better and safer when certain “types” of people are not permitted deeply challenges the advantage of diversity in community. With apologies to the poet John Donne, no one and no people is an island, and the truth is we need each other and can benefit from what each brings to community. We make our greatest and best impact on the world around us when we work together and offer hope for their lives as well as our own.
Second, a call to community is the call to love our neighbor as ourselves. Love isn’t a feeling. It is an action. It means desiring what is best for another person even when we don’t always like them. This is a value that is central to the Christian faith but is beneficial for all in community.
It means getting to know your neighbor (see my last column). It means hearing their stories, their struggles, their joys and their pains. This also means believing that there is value in everyone, even if one may not see their own value and worth.
Third, a call to community is the call to show acts of compassion. Reducing rhetoric is a start. Faith and fraternal organizations as well as business leaders could offer opportunities to learn from one another and engage in small projects that not only build relationships but become signs of our mutual humanity and hope.
Compassion leads to justice, inclusion and mutuality, so that peace-filled living just makes more sense. Because in community, “We are all in this together.”
It is not always easy to live in community, but after these last few weeks, I don’t know about you, but I am so willing to try.
David Aaron Johnson is the lead pastor at TriWorship Covenant Church – Multi Ethnic Faith Community (www.triworship.com). He can be contacted at 206-861-3844, daaron2001@gmail.com, and on Twitter at
@Daaron1980.
