Confessions of the "Rambo" Within

I am just back from the Journal of Law & Religion Symposium at Hamline – “The Sacred and the Secular: Encountering the Other from the Interpersonal to the International” – profound, thought-provoking, and at times moving discussions of the struggles to generate an “open” politics and theology in our world today. (Co-blogger Michael Perry contributed fascinating reflections on the possibility for an international “ecumenical politics.”)

Combing through the postings over the past week, what came to mind was the central somewhat anguished and unanswered question which ran through the symposium discussions – how to draw into the dialogue those who don’t seem to be open to dialogue – especially when they seem set on excluding others from the conversation.

Then… I have to confess that the Gospel from Sunday’s mass (10/24/04, Lk. 18:9-14) caught me up short. “The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, ‘God, I thank thee that I am not like other men . . .’” How many times – even just in the past week – have I thought, “I thank God that I am not one of those people who talks in such a way as to exclude others...”?

But in truth, there is a “Rambo” within me – every time I think I understand the other without completely listening with love and giving them a chance to fully express themselves; every time I steamroll over another, using with delight the rhetorical tricks in my lawyer’s bag; every time I fail to move beyond the other’s way of expressing herself in order to appreciate what’s underneath the words. My “bullying” may be more subtle (perhaps) – but in the eyes of God, perhaps just as destructive of the body of Christ…

As Rob put it so beautifully in his reflections on the legacy that his stepfather Bob left him, “The intellectual expression of faith cannot be mistaken for the life of faith.” I have been musing about the life of Igino Giordani, an Italian politician and member of the Italian parliament in the 1940s and 50s, whose process for beatification was opened this past June – known in the 30s as the “hammer of the heretics” for his strong and decisive polemical style. In the late 40s, when he met the Focolare spirituality, he felt God’s invitation to become instead the “mantle of the heretics” (in Italian there’s a play on words – from “martello” to “mantello”) – a loving presence of Mary which covers over, takes in, warms, and trusts in the transforming power of love more than rhetoric.

How often can love reveal that what seems to be a move to exclude is actually an expression of pain – and is a response to one’s own sense of having been excluded? Here it seems a “mantle” is more effective than a “hammer” – especially if the goal is build up the body of Christ – and that love itself will bring the truth, in all its power and beauty, to full light.

From October 10-17, the youth of the Focolare sponsored “World Unity Week” during which, among other activities, they disseminated a calendar of activities and commitments to help their peers discover how to build unity in their daily lives – ranging from increasing their awareness of how consumerism influences their daily choices, to concrete service reaching out to the elderly and marginalized in their community, to giving up a meal in solidarity with our fasting Muslim brothers and sharing the money they would have spent with the poor. Here was their Saturday commitment: “Expand your horizons: talk with a person from a different country, background, or perspective about an issue covered often in the media. Try to appreciate the positive, even if you differ. Share your discoveries with others!”

I was inspired, edified and humbled to see how fifteen year olds kids were able to take on some of the greatest challenges in our culture with straightforward simplicity, openness, and concrete commitment. Following their example, I have decided to make every day of this pre-election week “expand your horizons” day – in the hopes of disarming the “Rambo” within.

Amy