Praying into the politics of fear

Source: mg.co.za

A good novel or poem reveals a truth you always knew, but never realised you knew. The same holds for the Christian gospels. They tell us things we always knew but now, in this moment of reading, discover in an entirely new way as if for the first time. They are ‘true’ in this moment in a way they were not true in the past, or even five minutes ago. All of the sayings of Jesus were spoken with this idea in mind.

When truth is suddenly come upon it becomes a ‘moment of truth’. Moments of truth (and there can be many) often occur at that particular point in our life’s trajectory which intersects with that of the world in such a way as to allow for perception, understanding, or a creative ‘eureka’. A greater reality declares itself. Such moments do not only come about through the reading of a sacred text. They could just as easily happen through a novel or a painting, or in the few vacant minutes we find ourselves resting in while standing in a queue or waiting for the lights to change, or in encountering someone’s gaze as you shake their hand. James Joyce would have called these moments of truth ‘epiphanies’.

Such moments are not neutral. They are ‘charged’ with something. But they are also unknowable in the sense that they elude any kind of definition or analysis. Allowing for the advances made in the language of mathematics, it is artists and poets who probably come the closest to being able to define ‘truth’ when it is spoken of, or experienced, in this way. The truth they reveal to us (without always knowing they are doing so) is also the ‘unknown’ of quantum mechanics and the ‘unknowing’ of all that pertains to knowledge of God.

We are sentient beings whose perceptions have been sharpened by our memories, the memories of our own continuing pain, and by the suffering of the world. Here, and in our memories, we encounter a God who takes into himself the effects of our tendency to selfishness and violence as these are worked out in the politics of fear which continue to exercise such a hold on us and to dominate our world.

So, to look into the ‘unknowingness’, or darkness, of God is also to look into the world’s darkness and not to flinch from the fear it generates. But we need to look into our own darkness first. Looking into our own darkness, and thence into the darkness of the world and its politics, is not an exercise for the faint hearted and it is certainly not an exercise for those who think of themselves as spiritually strong. But it is vital work.

Those who are called upon to do this work will have known fear in one or more of its many psychological manifestations. They will be familiar with their own dark place, in the way a blind person or animal is familiar with the layout of a room because they know where the furniture is. The furniture is the cause and effect familiar to us in whatever our fear syndrome happens to be. We should know the furniture of our own dark habitation because it defines the limits of the space from which we can pray into the world’s darkness and into the politics of fear which emanate from that darkness. We should have the humility to pray only from within these limits.

The image I have chosen for this post is by now well known. Here is a spiritual exercise to go with it. It takes only a few seconds. 

Try looking at the faces of these two men while holding on to the truth revealed to you about what they represent for the future of millions, and perhaps of the whole human race. Yes, it is something to be fearful about. But if you look closely you see that they too are afraid. They are afraid because they cannot trust each other and they cannot trust each other because they are afraid. Allow all this to reveal itself as you look at the cold and hesitant handshake.  Look at the fear and take it into your particular dark room. Leave it there with the familiar furniture. Then look at the men again. 

Now, keeping your eyes on the men while remaining open and vulnerable to the unknowingness of God, to your own darkness and to that of the world, pray this: Lighten our darkness, Lord, we pray; and in your mercy defend us from all the perils and dangers of this night; for the love of your only son, our Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.