Of Riots, Insurrections, and Epiphany
Dear Friends,
I apologize for the lateness of this newsletter. It has been a difficult few days and honestly, I have been trying to decide how to respond.
As you all know, last Wednesday, a group of rioters and insurrectionists stormed the Capitol Building seeking to overthrow the results of our recent presidential election. At least five people have died. I don't really know what to say. I have many thoughts on what has transpired. I am angry at those who have spread the disinformation that led to this riot. I am saddened at the loss of life and the way this event has further divided the people in this country. I am frustrated that no one really seems to know how to discuss these issues, myself included.
But here are some things I can say. First, there needs to be justice. People need to be held accountable for their actions. So many people helped these events to happen by spreading rumors and disinformation. I am dismayed by the number of people still spouting these and even worse lies. But what's, perhaps, more disconcerting is how little people are taking seriously belief in these lies. What I mean is this. What if all the news you watched told you that this election was fraudulent? What if all the social media posts you were reading led you to believe that the Democrats somehow orchestrated President Trump's loss by illegal means? What if the president himself continued to tell people this? We are nation who's founding is in overthrowing tyrants, and doing so, when necessary, by violence. Should it come as any surprise that those involved at the capital would behave this way? Of course we, rightly, call it domestic terrorism, but they see it as patriotism, as freeing the country from the grip of "the liberals" who are actively trying to destroy "our way of life." Until we face this I do not see how we can move forward, can heal.
Second, there must be forgiveness. Pope Francis writes in Fratelli Tutti, "Forgiving does not mean forgetting. Or better, in the face of a reality that can in no way be denied, relativized or concealed, forgiveness is still possible. In the face of an action that can never be tolerated, justified or excused, we can still forgive. In the face of something that cannot be forgotten for any reason, we can still forgive. Free and heartfelt forgiveness is something noble, a reflection of God’s own infinite ability to forgive. If forgiveness is gratuitous, then it can be shown even to someone who resists repentance and is unable to beg pardon" (250). Justice and forgiveness must go hand-in-hand. When Peter asked Jesus how many times we are called to forgive, Jesus responds by saying 70 times 7 times. He is not prescribing an exact number, but noting precisely the gratuity of forgiveness. And of course, we cannot forget that according to the Our Father, we are forgiven in the same manner in which we forgive.
Third, we must also face the role the Christianity, American Exceptionalism, and racism played in this insurrection. People like Eric Metaxas and Paula White are telling their followers that God has told them, or people close to them, that President Trump will not lose this election. He is ordained by God, a political Messiah, with the Divine Right to Rule like a High Medieval king. Jesus never claimed a political party. The Bible itself was written during a time when Jews and later Christians were not able to participate in the government. And unlike the disastrous attempts in the Middle Ages to set up a series of Christian nations (which often went to war with one another) we live now in a pluralistic age where Christians, Muslims, Jews, Hindus, Atheists, and others must all live together. Our citizenship is not here, but in heaven and we await a savior from there. And that savior is not Donald Trump or Joe Biden or Bernie Sanders or Mitt Romney. It is Jesus Christ, the second person of the Trinity, in whom there is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor master, male nor female. All divisions lose their meaning in the person of Christ who unites us all to himself by his incarnation. Hate has spread like a virus, and hate is not of Christ.
I have no idea how we fix our present situation. I have no idea how precisely we ought to confront the moral failings of our leaders and of ourselves other than to say this. We must become holy. Note I said holy, not holier. For to be holier leads almost always to being holier than thou. Rather we must seek to unite ourselves to Christ, to become united to the will of God that we can be on the path to being holy as he is holy, perfect as he is perfect.
I'll leave you with this. I've been keeping a poetry journal of late, modeled off of Tennyson's "In Memoriam." Here is my entry from January 6th:
The celestial light that led the star-bound
To the House of Overflowing Fulness
Seems darker now despite its wholeness
And in that Dark, I begin to drown.
Anger, hatred, Saturn’s rays
Colored by the martial-red light
Overwhelm my weekend sight.
I stumble onto darkened ways.
Wretchedness and death and darkness
Seem to fill my every thought.
The World we live in has at last been bought
By the Lord of the Air, the Prince of Darkness.
Herod’s ire is vented freely,
Rachel is weeping for her children
As every inch, every corner is filled in
With tears from eyes now hard and steely.
But through the fog the Old Light shines,
And the old Appearance is made new;
Epiphanic light like dew
Collecting on the grass and on the vines
Flickers the flame that burns in the Child
Playing on his Holy Mother’s knee.
He embodies the Light we long to see
As the world around us becomes mad and wild.
The darkness has certainly left its scars,
Death, destruction, and decay.
But Night must always fall to Day,
And even Night is filled with stars.
Sincerely,
David Russell Mosley
