Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Freedom of religion

Last night, I was walking on UC Berkeley's campus. As I crossed over Strawberry Creek, I noticed something on the concrete bridge. Someone had drawn a pentagram with a tea candle in the middle. Not only that, but the pentagram had been drawn in what appeared to be blood--it was a thick, red fluid. It had also been recently drawn; some of the fluid was slowly flowing down the slight downgrade of the concrete bridge.

Needless to say, I was uncomfortable. So uncomfortable, in fact, that it actually crossed my mind to call PPCS (Physical Plant - Campus Services) and ask them to hose it down. But it appears nature took care of that. Today, I walked on the same bridge, and it was gone. Apparently last night's and today's rains washed it away.

The question has appeared in my mind: if I had called PPCS, would they have come and washed it away? The answer is probably, because you are not allowed to draw or advertise on campus property except for designated signs and areas. But let's suppose that you could post or chalk wherever you wanted on campus. If I had called, would they have washed it away because it was a pentagram?

If the answer is yes, then that could arguably be a violation of one of the U.S.'s most valued aspects: freedom of religion. It would be a similar situation if someone had chalked a cross on the ground, and someone called PPCS to hose it down because it made them feel uncomfortable. Would Christians be offended by that, and claim that they were being persecuted? What then does that mean for the pentagram case?

I guess the point is, how far does the right to freedom of religion go?

Friday, February 21, 2014

"I love them, but I don't like them."

A common evangelical saying when someone isn't particularly fond of someone else is, "I love them; I just don't like them." Basically, they're expressing their distaste for the person while covering their ass and ensuring that no one can call them out on breaking the command of loving your neighbor. The phrase ensures that they are allowed to avoid confronting issues between the two parties because they love them.

Yeah, but I call bullshit.

That phrase doesn't make any sense. How can you love someone but not like them? Loving is much stronger than just liking someone. If you don't even like someone, there is no chance that you can care more deeply for them to call it "love."

The command to love your neighbor as yourself was never an easy command. Saying "I love them, but I don't like them," makes it seem like the command is simpler than it really is. When Jesus told us to love our neighbors, he meant bearing with each other, tolerating each other, apologizing to each other, forgiving each other. That's not easy work. Obviously, we will all fail at that from time to time. But when we do, let's not pretend that we are perfect by saying, "I love them; I just don't like them."

The phrase is often given as a reason why someone doesn't associate with someone else in the church. Except there's probably more going on there--they are likely avoiding issues that need to be discussed. Avoiding confrontation. That doesn't sound very loving to me.

It's a part of being human that we are inevitably not going to get along from time to time. We need to be more okay with people admitting that they are struggling with the sin of not loving others.