Fool's Gold -- August 25, 2017

“I like your Christ; I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.” The preceding words, which many believe to have been spoken by the iconic leader of the Indian independence movement, Mahatma Gandhi, have always given me pause. I could never really comprehend the tenor of this statement. Whenever I pondered the significance of this assertion, I found myself asking how it was possible to like Christ while simultaneously shunning the individuals who sought to emulate his teachings here on Earth. For me, this was a paradox of which I could not make any sense. It was a claim that left me, quite frankly, rolling my eyes.

In recent days, however, I believe that I’ve come to a deeper understanding of Gandhi’s sentiments. In saying these words, I don’t believe that this brilliant man was implying that he loathed all of the followers of Christianity; rather, I believe that he was trying to convey his frustration with the way in which Christianity is so often misrepresented. In fact, in the current social climate of our society, it is this very thing that both infuriates and saddens me to no end. Recently, it seems as though I am constantly being bombarded with stories of incidents in which people have used Christianity as a justification to do horrific things to other human beings.

To give you an example, back in November, days after this past election, when there seemed to have been a torrent of hate crimes released, I had the pleasure of meeting a young man who was unfortunately a victim of one of these vile incidents. The young man, who is a member of the LGBTQ community, was strolling down the street one day in his community sporting an item of clothing that had a rainbow clearly displayed on it. One pernicious individual, on spotting him at quite a distance away, began to holler obscenities, picked up a rock, and hurled it at him, striking him in the face.

To add salt to his metaphorical wound, when his story started to become viral and the photo of the young man with a crimson-colored, swollen lesion on his cheek began to circulate, he became the object of merciless harassment. Ironically, he later told me that some of the most malicious comments that he had received were from people who identified themselves as being devout “Christians.” Most of these comments from these “followers of Christ” insinuated that this young man fully merited what had befallen him because Jesus hates sexual deviance of any kind.

On hearing this, I was rendered speechless. Those of you who know me personally know that there are very few instances when words escape me, but in this moment, I was struck dumb by the hypocrisy of this situation. These self-righteous individuals, who claim to be such biblical fundamentalists, must have forgotten all about John 8:7, when Jesus encountered a woman caught in the act of adultery. When the scribes and Pharisees went to stone her, Jesus came to her rescue saying, "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone." I will never understand how people who claim to be followers of Jesus Christ could misappropriate His words to justify this vicious act when Christ’s words tell us, quite literally, that we should not throw stones at others.

It appears to me, however, that this kind of hypocrisy is running rampant throughout our society. Moreover, I never cease to be flabbergasted by the amount of atrocious acts that are committed in the name of a distorted perception of Christianity. Now, I want to clarify here that I fully acknowledge that there are both good and bad individuals within every religion and creed. I have friends who identify as Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Agnostics, et cetera, and they are all wonderful people. I think that the reason why I tend to fixate on the misrepresentation of Christianity, however, is because Christianity is something that has been such an infinite source of love and strength throughout my life that I simply cannot fathom anyone employing it to promote hatred. To me, it is something that completely confounds the mind.

Yet another instance of this senseless paradox could be found in the incidents that occurred on August 12, in Charlottesville, Virginia. During the “Unite the Right” rally that resulted in deadly violence, many of the angry marchers used Christianity to justify their rancor. Many displayed the iron cross insignia while chanting, “Jews will not replace us,” echoing the same fears that Hitler had once struck in the hearts of many. A multitude of them wielding torches, armed with weapons, and bellowing vitriol at the top of their lungs, these individuals were a tableau of hatred and ire – the very antithesis of the Christian faith.

However, somehow, even in the darkest hours, it never fails to astound me how, like clockwork, a beacon of light and hope will shine through as if to show us what it truly means to be, not only a Christian, but a compassionate human being. In this particular instance, that ray of hope took the form of the parents of the victim, 32-year-old Heather Heyer. Left grief-stricken and inconsolable after the tragic death of their daughter, who was struck down by a car while participating in a counter-protest at the rally, Heyer’s parents were able to summon up the courage to react to their daughter’s death with compassion and forgiveness. Heyer’s mother was able to express sympathy for the 20-year-old suspect’s mother saying, "I've not only lost a daughter; his mother has lost her son. She will never have her son back in the way that he was."

Just days after the tragedy, Heyer’s father was even able to forgive his daughter’s assailant, citing his faith as the source of his courage to forgive: "I just think about what the Lord said on the cross, ‘Forgive them. They don’t know what they’re doing.’” Having never experienced parenthood myself, I cannot even begin to fathom the kind of grace that would allow a parent to express forgiveness for the man who brutally killed his baby, even before she is cold in her grave. All I can think about is my own parents telling my sister and me that we will never understand the capacity that we have to love someone unless we have children of our own and that they could not comprehend how they would go on living their lives if something were to happen to either my sister or to me. Even as I type this, I find that I can no longer see the computer screen for my eyes welling up with tears. While I may not understand how one can summon up this level of grace to forgive, there is one thing of which I’m certain: this is what it means to be a true follower of Christ.

When I was little, I had this small piece of pyrite, commonly referred to as “fool’s gold.” Having always had an affinity for things that sparkle, I counted it as one of my most prized possessions, and I protected it in a manner that was almost miserly. I had it delicately folded in a piece of tissue paper in my dresser drawer, and quite often, I would ever so gently remove it to admire its luster. As time passed, though, I slowly began to discern the ways in which pyrite falls short in comparison to true gold, and I began to notice the pyrite’s artificiality. Pyrite, for instance, has edges that are far rougher and more jagged than gold and has a shape that is more angular, making it appear more garish and gaudy than gold. Also, in the natural light, pyrite only gleams at certain angles. Gold, on the other hand, shines luminously no matter which way you hold it.

               

Whenever I reflect on Gandhi’s words on Christianity in light of the events that are happening around us, the image of my childish fascination with fool’s gold always comes to mind. As a child, after a while, I finally began to realize that the fool’s gold was simply a cheaper imitation of something far more valuable, rare, and precious. Likewise, in adulthood, although it’s taken me some time, I’ve come to two similar conclusions. Firstly, I’ve learned that Christianity which is used to defend ignominious acts against humanity is every bit as phony and artificial as my lump of pyrite. Secondly, albeit ever so cliché, I’ve come to the realization, much like I did as a child, that “all that glitters is not gold."

-- Daniella Rossi

When Silence is Betrayal -- August 14, 2017

“Once you identify and say their names, it’s as if, slowly and steadily, all of their power begins to diminish, and in its place grows a sense of inner peace.” These were the words of an infinitely wise Catholic priest I encountered several years ago who was appointed as the exorcist at his parish. This brave clergyman, whom for the sake of this post, I will refer to as Father Joe, had been trained under the tutelage of the Vatican’s primary exorcist. Having always had a special penchant for the supernatural, for me, the novelty of Father Joe’s stories never quite seemed to wear off.

Time and time again, I would sit spellbound beneath his melodious voice as he regaled various tales of dealing with demons that took many forms and always meant to harm the spirits of those they took hold of. One of the reoccurring themes that was prevalent in many such tales was the idea that if the exorcist could accurately discern and name the demon that had usurped the body of the possessed individual, this was the first step in stripping the demon of its power.

Somehow, tonight the words of Father Joe will not go from my mind. The last couple of days, I had been meaning to write about what transpired on Saturday in Charlottesville, but every time, a siege of outrage, sadness, and bewilderment impeded me.  This is one of these moments in life where words fail us. Even now as I write, I can’t help but feel a sense of utter powerlessness as mere words are seemingly insufficient in conveying how I feel.  

As I’m reflecting on this, however, I think that, perhaps, this feeling of helplessness may be partly self-imposed. You see, so often when I write this blog, I tend to speak in generalities for fear of offending any of my friends who may disagree. For this reason, I’ll try to refrain from criticizing or even specifically identifying individuals with whom I disagree. After the heinous events that occurred in Charlottesville, however, I’m becoming cognizant of the fact that we no longer have the luxury of always being diplomatic. Perhaps, the words of Father Joe are just as apropos in this context as well, for if we don’t identify and speak out against the demons that plague us, they will forever have dominion over us. At this point, to be silent is to be complicit. On this note, then, I’d like to share my thoughts on these tragic events.

On Saturday, upon hearing about the deadly violence that was spurred by a white supremacist protest, “Unite the Right,” in Charlottesville, Virginia, I was so heavy-hearted. It is terrifying to me how, in recent days, such rancorous bigotry has become normalized on so many levels; moreover, the hate groups that promote this abhorrent ideology seem to be emboldened as of late. When President Trump later went on to address the events of that day, I was so hoping to hear him finally make a statement to denounce all of these hate groups that so ardently support him. I was greatly disheartened when this was not the case.

To hear him speak in such vague generalities and make the statement that these incidents were caused by “hatred, bigotry and violence on many sides” was, to say the least, disillusioning. Although there is, most definitely, hatred brewing on all sides, the carnage that resulted from this particular incident was the result of violence brought about by one side -- namely, the white supremacists. Furthermore, after President Trump spoke, when several reporters present tried to get him to denounce these groups of white supremacists and neo-Nazis, in his usual fashion, he very haughtily sauntered off, ignoring them.

I don’t think that Father Joe’s words from years ago ever rang so true to me as they did in that moment as I watched that scene unfold. Why couldn’t he publicly identify and denounce these demons by name? It made no sense to me. Perhaps it was because he did not want to claim any culpability in helping to ignite this violence, as many of his critics claim, with the incendiary rhetoric that we’ve heard him employing for over two years now. Perhaps it was because he did not want to lose the support of these white nationalist hate groups, which are among some of his most fervid supporters.

In any case, the President’s unwillingness to denounce them seemed to invigorate the animosity of these groups even further. It isn’t surprising that white nationalists were cheering the President’s comments triumphantly. For instance, on one white supremacist website titled “The Daily Stormer,” one person wrote, “Trump [sic] comments were good. He didn’t attack us. He just said the nation should come together. Nothing specific against us. He said that we need to study why people are so angry, and implied that there was hate… on both sides! So he implied the antifa are haters. There was virtually no counter-signaling of us at all. He said he loves us all.” As one may see, in many instances, refusing to call out evil only causes it to flourish.

Finally, this afternoon, over forty-eight hours after the incident had occurred, as an afterthought after spending several minutes boasting about the economy, and presumably only after being bombarded with criticism from every side, President Trump begrudgingly made the following statements: “Racism is evil. And those who cause violence in its name are criminals and thugs, including the K.K.K., neo-Nazis, white supremacists and other hate groups that are repugnant to everything we hold dear as Americans.” For many of us, however, I think that these words, at this point, rang hollow.

Looking back at my fond memories of Father Joe’s captivating stories in light of the events that have consumed us, I can’t help but be grateful for his words of wisdom. So often when we fail to renounce evil and call it by its name, we are only allowing it to thrive. In the words of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., “There comes a time when silence is betrayal.” My friends, perhaps that time is now.

-- Daniella Rossi