On Wednesday I had a great conversation with friend, author and inspiring merchant of love and hope Julie Wood. You can watch! Her book, Changing the Message, narrates the cruelty inflicted on her beautiful son Ben – in the church, his happy, safe place – which sent him into a downward spiral, eventually taking his own life. A youth pastor, spewing vile condemnation at a vulnerable kid for being – although still too young to have had a romantic relationship – gay.
I admire Julie’s courage and resilience, and
her determination to save even one life, or one more person being treated as
any less than a lovely child of God, when she sits in front of people and bares
her soul, her deep woundedness. And yet she has a vast heart overflowing with
love – even daring to understand mean people. No small feat, this daring to
understand.
In our conversation, I read some lyrics from
Craig Hella Johnson’s moving, mind-boggling “Considering Matthew Shepard,” a
profound setting to music of the story of the young man brutally murdered for
being gay in Wyoming. The most poignant moment comes when gays and lesbians reflect
on Matthew’s killers:
“When I think of you, and honestly I don’t
like to think about you. But sometimes I do. I am so angry and confused. Late
one night I had a glimpse of something, I don’t even like to say this out loud,
it isn’t even all that true, but I wondered for a moment, am I like you in any
way? I pray the answer is no. I bet you once had hopes and dreams too. Some
things we love get lost along the way. That’s just like me. I am like you, I
get confused, I’m afraid, I’ve been reckless, unthinking, intoxicated, I’ve
come unhinged and made mistakes and hurt people very much. I am like you; this
troubles me.”
Julie resonated to this thought, pondering
how we are all broken, and how if we hurl rage toward those who seem so evil,
we become like them. She asks What happened, what trauma happened to the youth
minister who scathingly condemned Ben to hell that twisted his created goodness
into monstrous meanness?
Mind you, there’s forgiveness and there’s forgiveness.
Finding a space of understanding, and letting go of understandable, natural
recoiling against someone who did something horrible to you and yours never can
imply that it was all right. We demand this never happen on earth, ever again,
and then meander toward a place of compassion, even for the one who is so
terribly wrong, and hope.
In our agonizingly divided world, with so
much toxic rancor, I wonder if Julie might be showing us a way forward. We get
confused. We’ve made mistakes and hurt others, including ourselves. I am like
you. This can be, albeit with the conviction that the standard for Christians,
and for all people of goodwill (and this isn’t optional) is that we resist as
zealously as we can any who do harm. We stand with those who are adversely
impacted by what’s going on. That’s not partisan. That’s not even exclusively
Christian. That’s just human.
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