Curiosity, voyeurism, the occasional thought-provoking reference: these are the main reasons I check into Facebook once a day. I also appreciate hearing what friends are doing and, in some cases, thinking. I like the pictures, too, and seeing aspects of friends’ lives I wouldn’t otherwise, although the need to share a close-up of the Chicken Supreme they had for dinner last night escapes me.
However, too often I end up in Facebook Fury, hooked by a posting someone has leeched from some source or other, that makes me want to bring out the big guns and shoot it dead. (Already I’m talking guns, just thinking about it.) I want to, at the very least, smash the argument to smithereens and kick it to the curb.
But perhaps I understate.
Today, someone posted a statement from an outfit called “Being Liberal” which says: “When religion ruled the world they called it the Dark Ages.”
Wow. Deep.
I thought my “comment” was remarkably restrained: “No one in any of the world’s enduring, major religions WANTS to rule the world. We have other things to do.”
This being Presidents’ Day, I couldn’t help but contrast the polarizing, cheap-shot, historically-questionable Dark Ages comment to what I was hearing on Public Radio: Historian Doris Kearns Goodwin’s words about Abraham Lincoln. She wrote a premier biography of Lincoln, tellingly entitled Team of Rivals. She discussed his humanity, his struggles, his sense of humor, the compassion he held even for his adversaries.
I started poking around in my sermon file and found one of my favorite references, which happens to pertain to Lincoln. It embodies a spirit we need desperately in the church, the country, and the world. It is the opposite of the appalling polarization in our political discourse, fueled by irresponsible politicians who value their own agendas over human progress.
It appeared in the Star-Tribune quite a while ago and was written by Rabbi Barry Citron, who was at that point with the Center for Jewish-Christian Understanding at St. Thomas University. He wrote:
“As the Civil War drew to a close, and Union victory seemed within grasp, the gloom in Washington finally began to lift. When news came that Lee and the South were ready to concede, there was a palpable relief that a profound tragedy was near its end. The story goes that news of the concession was brought by courier to the White House. After exchanging cheers of victory, the president was asked if there was an appropriate melody that all might sing ‘Yes,’ Lincoln is reported to have answered. ‘Let us sing Dixie.’”
Classy, Christian, and the spirit that could actually get us somewhere. As much as I like to argue (and win), I know that THIS is the path to which we are called.
Even on Facebook.
See you in church.
Barbara
