People

For a couple of years now, I've fallen back on the phrase "people are the worst and I hate them" whenever I am disappointed by the world. It works out pretty well most of the time. Someone yells at you when you were just doing your job? People are the worst and I hate them. Someone leaves you in a lurch, making you responsible for extra work at your job, at school, at home? People are the worst and I hate them. Someone says hello to your chest before they meet your eye or "accidentally" grabs your butt on the metro? People are the absolute worst and I hate them.

It works for more minor offenses as well. Someone cut you off in traffic? Someone check out the book you need from the library? Someone sneeze on you and fail to apologize? People are the worst and I hate them.

But I've found that this phrase that I've clung so tightly to, the one that has protected me and my heart for the past two or three years, the combination of words that lowers my expectation for those around me so much that I can only hope that they won't be able to surprise or hurt me anymore, that phrase fails in light of the big disappointments.

Someone walk out of your life and never look back? Someone say a hateful thing to a vulnerable person? Someone do something to hurt a vulnerable person? The nation elect a candidate who in many ways represents the worst of America? People are... people. And when people do these things, I realize not our value but rather how broken we must be. How ignored. How frightened. How angry. How lost. How unloved we must feel. How hated.

I thank God that in those moments of realization, I feel overwhelming compassion instead of derision or rejection. I know that doesn't come from me. l know that quiet sadness that settles into my heart and reaches my arm out toward another isn't me. Throwing my phone across the room on election night and screaming at the television is me. Reaching for a bottle instead of the phone is me. Staring at the pavement as I walk past those in need is me. I have so much me inside me. It rises up and occupies my mind with my needs, my pain, my sorrow, my shame. It clouds my eyes day after day, only allowing me to see the problems of my heart to the exclusion of all other cares. It is focused on myself because I have believed the lie that if I don't care about me, no one will. All those people out there, all they want to do is hurt me. They're the worst. I hate them.

My sisters, my brothers, this should not be. As humans, we are capable of such terrible things. We are bound by such horrifying self-preservation. We do not let the cries of those in pain reach us. We do not acknowledge when we are the cause of that pain. We allow our fears to twist us. We do such hateful things.

But we do not have to. I know we don't have to. I know we don't have to because in those moments when I realize the depths of human brokenness, I do not feel that hate. In that time when hate should overwhelm me, when by all rights I should despair, something better works a miracle in me. A tiny miracle for me, because the burden the world has placed on me is so much smaller than for others, but I can recognize that same miracle in those from whom the world has taken much. There is a light that can shine through us even in the worst of times, a light that brings love where by all rights there should only be hate.

Friends, let us seek that love. Let us seek that love in every situation for as long as we can. Let us love and protect those who are vulnerable and let us never cease to speak out and act against the people and systems causing and exploiting that vulnerability, but let us also love those who hate. Let us hear the pain of the hateful and seek also to heal that. It is only by healing the hearts of humans that we can hope for change.

I don't have the exact actionable answer for how we do all that healing. I don't have a detailed plan for how to ecumenically reach every human heart and stop it from hurting another out of its hurt. I only really realized that I shouldn't hate people yesterday. I hadn't thought about how deeply I had allowed a flippant phrase to take root in my own heart and how atrophied my muscle of love had become. But recognizing that there is something better than hate in every situation is a step. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.

Be that love. Be that loud, active love.



"[16] So we have known and believe the love that God has for us. God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them. [17] Love has been perfected among us in this: that we may have boldness on the day of judgement, because as he is, so are we in this world. [18] There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love. [19] We love because he first loved us. [20] Those who say, "I love God," and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen. [21] The commandment we have from him is this: those who love God must love their brothers and sisters also." 1 John 4:16-21.