Patheos

BuddhistCatholicContemplativeEvangelicalGeneral ChristianHinduJewishLatter-day SaintMuslimNew VisionsProgressive Christian

Beliefs

Topics

Columnists

Resource Library

Research Tools

Video

Podcasts

Thought Readers

Faith In Media Tracker

Newsletters

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Patheos

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Follow Patheos Patheos on Facebook Patheos on YouTube

Additional resources

Loving in Dangerous Times

January 12, 2011 by Jenny Warner

Jenny WarnerIn the U.S., many people—particularly middle to upper class white people—live with a façade of safety. Our individualized lives, combined with a vast geographical landscape, mean that a large percentage of Americans often go throughout a day without seeing or talking with anyone in a different economic or political or social state other from their own. These isolated realities are reinforced in small communities that feel really big when they are all that is known. And because of this, we often feel safe from terror, safe from natural disaster, safe from the unknown.

Whenever there is a tragedy, as with this week's shooting in Tucson, it comes as a shock. Not that violence isn't always a shock, but it is especially a shock to many Americans. We can control so much of our lives, ensure so much of our safety, protect our children to such an extent, that it is a shock when all of those measures weren't enough somewhere. Because if it's not enough at a neighborhood Safeway in Tucson, Arizona, it might not be enough at my grocery store or at my children's elementary school or in my home.

I bring this up because I think a lot of people are understandably scared and unsure about how to handle the events in Tucson. Our fear reveals a need that pastors have an opportunity to address even when national tragedy isn't at the forefront of our minds. Through spiritual formation, mission, and global conversation, we can help congregations be prepared to respond to the struggles of life.

As people grow spiritually, they are drawn beyond the "circumference" of their lives, as Richard Rohr calls it, into the center where unity with God is found. This center then begins to transform the circumference. We move from fear into love and we take love with us into our fear. We begin to understand that our natural anxieties are within the reach of a God of love, not apart from God. And so when tragedy strikes, we are more able to see our fear and shock included in the realm of God's love.

Mission moves us beyond what is familiar into action that meets the world's need with our own selves. When we authentically engage in mission, we become, as Bruce Cockburn sings, "lovers in a dangerous time." It was time spent in places like the streets of South Central Los Angeles, living in Budapest, Hungary, and a recent family trip to the Philippines that moved me further beyond concern for only those closest to me to concern for justice for the whole world. Whether it is a drive across town or a trip around the world, mission has the potential to increase our hope and broaden our circle of concern.

Lastly, churches can offer exposure to new voices. My church in Berkeley, California has a yearly Global Church Conference where leaders from primarily the Global South come to speak about theology and justice. This experience certainly increases action and engagement, but I think it also increases faith. When you hear the stories and see the faces of those who have lived through genocide or are working with AIDS in Africa or are providing care to former child soldiers in Uganda, it increases the conviction that even when life is at its worst, God is still present offering hope, peace, and strength. We have to intentionally cultivate this kind of engagement in our American lives because it is quite easy to live an entire life isolated from it.

I do not know if our country will become more or less violent in the years to come. But I believe churches are places where we can move beyond some of the isolation that exists in the United States to a love that embraces those different from ourselves, to courage that refuses to live exclusively in self-protectiveness, and to justice that extends itself in passionate, daring response—in other words, to live lives worthy of the gospel. And that kind of transformation will bring healing beyond the walls of the church and into the world.

1/12/2011 5:00:00 AM

Mainline Protestant

Preachers

Notes from a First Year Preacher

Violence

Globalization

Mainline Protestantism

Preaching Resources

Christianity

more at patheos

1

Port of Call: Sometimes We Need More Than a Weekly Sabbath

Jeff McLain

2

What We Lose When “Ask AI” Becomes A Regular Thing

John Beckett

3

A Path of Justice

Herb Montgomery

4

Netflix's 'Little House on the Prairie': So, Did I Like It?

Kate O'Hare

Jenny Warner

About Jenny Warner

Jenny Warner is the Pastor for Justice, Spirituality, and Community at First Presbyterian Church of Bend, Oregon. She graduated from Biola University with a B.A. in Intercultural Studies and Psychology in 1992, and in 2010, received a Masters of Divinity from San Francisco Theological Seminary. She is a trained spiritual director, certified by Mars Hill Graduate School in Seattle.

Patheos Logo Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

Patheos on Facebook Patheos on YouTube

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Copyright 2008-2026, Patheos. All rights reserved.

Subscription Support Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In

Follow Patheos Patheos on Facebook Patheos on YouTube