Is Your Heart Right?

Allow me a couple of minutes of unapologetically Christian-centric discourse.

John Wesley said in a sermon one time, "Every wise man, therefore, will allow others the same liberty of thinking which he desires they should allow him; and will no more insist on their embracing his opinions, than he would have them to insist on his embracing theirs. He bears with those who differ from him, and only asks him with whom he desires to unite in love that single question, 'Is thy heart right, as my heart is with thy heart?'"

It strikes me here that the question assumes that you know your heart is right. To be generous, the situation is not that you simply know with an untested conviction that your heart is right, but that you have explored the motivations of your heart and are striving to align it with God's heart for us and for the world. In making your own heart right with God's heart, you make your heart right with the other's. And so, in a moment of reconciliation, but not necessarily agreement, you come to your sister or brother (in Christ) and ask, "Is your heart right, as my heart is with your heart?"

That question is a quote from 2 Kings 10:15, which the NRSV renders "Is your heart as true to mine as mine is to yours?" (The difference in wording comes from using the Hebrew text rather than the Greek Septuagint translation.) It's a little ironic that a plea for peacemaking should come out of this section of the Bible-- Jehu, the speaker in this quote, has just recently taken over control of the northern kingdom of Israel after a coup in which the former king, Ahab, and his family have been killed, including his wife, Jezebel, who was thrown from her window in her full royal attire. Two verses after this exchange with a supporter of his, Jehu wipes out the rest of Ahab's supporters in Samaria. Peacemaking in this period of Israel's history involves more war than introspection. And with that context in mind, the NRSV reading makes more sense. It's not so much "Are we united in righteousness?" as it is "Are you backing me up? Because we're about to cause some people some trouble."

Still, the interaction has value. "'Is your heart as true to mine as mine is to yours?' Jehonadab answered, 'It is.' Jehu said, 'If it is, give me your hand.' So he gave him his hand." Jehu does not ask for Jehonadab's thoughts or detailed policy plans. He asks about his heart in relation to his own heart. Do you hold the same ideals I do? Do you care for what I care for? Are we united in purpose? Once the answer comes, it is embodied; it takes an action. He gives him his hand along with his word.

This should all speak an uncomfortable word to us. We have forgotten how to unite. We have forgotten to see the trueness, the rightness in another's heart. And we have neglected the importance of embodied relationships; our digital discourses are often the only conversations we have (and we all know that the way we act online is not how we act out in the world). Our interaction often stops without finding its way to actions we can take together. We have forgotten, or we have radically and negatively changed, how to be together. Church, we have long forgotten how to be together. Nation, we have perhaps more recently and heartbreakingly forgotten how to be together. Our world has changed and we, in our distraction, have not remembered who we should be. We should be people who desire to unite in love.

Tomorrow, we start Lent. We start this time where we remember who we are and work on how we are, in preparation for the remembrance and celebration of whose we are and how we became that way. I can't highlight for you the ways you have lost your desire to unite with others in love. I can't show you the moments when you have insisted on your own way rather than asking after the heart of another. I can't bring to your attention every moment of unkindness or boastfulness or irritation or resentfulness. I can only tell you that I am abundantly aware of the unloving moments in my life and that my plan is to allow a work to be done in me during this season so that when Easter comes around, I'll be better able to see the renewed world as I should, as a place that is abundantly loved and redeemed from its brokenness.

For me, this work is going to mean stepping away from most social media, primarily facebook, because I know that I don't use it properly and because I know that it hasn't helped me be where I physically am. I really do think that now more than ever is a time to be where you are, to see and engage with the people around you and build community in order to help heal people and the nation, so that's what I'll be doing. I'll still be posting here-- it was actually giving up facebook for Lent eight years ago that got me to start a blog in the first place, so maybe similarly fruitful project will come out of this Lent-- but I won't be sharing it to facebook, so if you want to keep up with me, sign up for emails in the sidebar. I'm pretty sure it'll only send you an email when I post so you know to check in at your leisure.

Okay, that was that. For those of you who scrolled down to see where the Jesus-talk ended, know that I'm taking a break from social media between now and April 16th, so if you want to keep up with posts, sign up for the emails. I'd also ask that you join me in taking the next month and a half or so to really think about the heart of the other, to try to empathize with everyone who crosses your path or newsfeed or timeline. It's the exhausting but necessary work of community building and I'd love your help with it. It's hard because humans (including ourselves) are frustrating and irritating individuals, but I believe in us.

We got this.