For the love of all things that are unholy

All week this question has been circling in my mind, body, and spirit: “How do I ground myself in Christ’s love?” Because love is not my immediate reaction to white supremacist insurrection invited and instigated by the president and ushered through Capitol doors by police and senators.

There are a host of other unholy reactions to such unholy violence and unbridled terrorism. Love is not immediate, instead it is cultivated, it is truth seeking, it is accountable, and it is hard work.

By love, I mean the deep indwelling of the Holy Spirit. An abiding power that is courageous, confident, at deep peace in facing all that is unholy.

I’m not seeking warm fuzziness, or desiring to be saved from uncomfortable feelings. I’m not simply hoping white supremacy and the religious right will just go away on their own. They won’t.

No, I am summoning Christ’s love, a wisdom that is present to the current turmoil and violence and yet moves through and transforms it into deep and lasting justice and peace. A form of love that can embrace and hold the tensions of our world and usher us into a new day and a new way of being together.

It is too privileged and pacifying, especially as a white person, to pull the covers up over my head and hope the boogeymen will all go away. It is too numbingly vicious to presume that things won’t get worse. And it is dangerous Christian Nationalism that presumes God will save our nation for our own merits and supremacy. And yet, God can intervene through us, our hearts, our words, our actions, our relationships, our organized love working together with God.

What I’m seeking is the power of the Holy Spirit that has already claimed an abiding presence in our lives and bodies, which means I’m summoning my inner most strength to respond by abiding with the Holy Spirit in return.

It may seem safer to choose not to abide with the Holy Spirit, because the Spirit will require us to take action, to perhaps make sacrifices, to bend and twist ourselves into being comfortable with discomfort, to acknowledge the sin or separation from within instead of simply pointing out all the failures in everyone else.

And yet, deep inside, we know that it is in fact safer for us to abide with the Holy Spirit. Safer for our soul to align with God, rather than our own ego, supremacy, fears, and need for pacification. Abiding with the Holy Spirit is safer because nothing can harm our soul, nothing can pierce our loving hearts deep enough, nothing can separate us, unless we separate ourselves. It is safer to abide with the Holy Spirit, because it is freedom.

I don’t know that I have the words or prayer to offer as a balm for us right now, and that’s okay.

Healing comes in many forms, and is rarely instant—try as we might. Instead the balm comes as we engage our own healing processes individually and collectively—in our relationships, homes, congregations, work, and public and political life together. Healing come when we are able to to be present to our collective realities, to name what is holy and unholy, and to hold one another accountable, because that kind of Christ’s love is how you interrupt patterns of violence and reach freedom from oppression. Christ’s healing love requires us to turn to face the Holy Spirit who has been waiting patiently for us to leave our pain and fears behind.

I do know from experience, that there is healing, justice, peace, freedom, joy, grace, forgiveness, and salvation when we allow ourselves to abide with God’s Holy Spirit. So that is my blessing for you today and in the days to come:

For the love of all things that are unholy, may you have the courage to choose to abide in the everlasting love of Christ and the Holy Spirit of God. Amen.