"I'm Looking Hard for the Lessons in This"

A Reply to a Reader Who Got Fired by Trump and Elon

This post is an open response to a message I received from a reader last week (printed with his permission).

Hey Duncan. I appreciated your latest missive. Trump and Elon fired me last week as part of their purge of public servants and systematic dismantling of the CFPB [Consumer Financial Protection Bureau]. . . I'm the primary source of income and benefits for my family, so, here we are, not knowing where the next paycheck comes from. I join the ranks of the displaced and confused.

I've been thinking about God through all this. Specifically, I've been looking hard for the lessons in this, rather than just being mad, anxious, and sad. I've been reflecting on how to handle earthly challenges with faith and composure. How to give myself to God when I'm not so obviously received (i.e. fired from what I thought was a good cause). How to muster forgiveness for Trump and Elon and those who effectuate unlawful orders that negatively impact thousands of families. How to strive for a next step that is consistent with my spirituality-based values, and not driven by financial desperation.

If any bible passages come to mind, I'm all ears. I opened the Bible the other night to a passage about how the law had been used to bring inequity and darkness to the land, and how the ultimate source of this wrong was man's separation from God. At the end of the passage, God suits up in armor and prepares to vanquish those bringing the inequity. I found it apropos and calming.

What a time!

I hope you and your family are well, and continuing to find your way and place in El Paso.

Dear Reader,

I have two small suggestions and a big concern.

My first suggestion is about Bible passages. No particular passage comes to mind but a way of reading the Bible does. The ancient practice of Lectio Divina or “Sacred Reading” provides a structure so that you can not only be “thinking about God through all this” but also be encountering Him as a guiding, challenging, loving presence. You can read more about the background and steps here. My second suggestion is that your feeling “displaced and confused” can be a powerful and genuine starting point for prayer. The Welcoming Prayer begins with those feelings and the associated body sensations and gently invites God into them. I’m prone to spiritual bypassing - using spirituality to avoid hard and complex psychological experiences - during times as shocking and disorienting as what you’re going through. The Welcoming Prayer has helped to ground me in my body, my emotions, and God even when I wanted to hide out in the temporary comfort of my thinking.

My big concern is that the very mindset that I’m guessing has brought you success in work may fail you spiritually. In your message you sound so thoughtful and eager to learn. I hear how you want to grow in faith and forgiveness from this experience of being fired; you don’t want to get stuck in resentment or self-pity. I imagine that such a “growth mindset” has contributed to your success arriving at a job that sounds as meaningful and important as Consumer Financial Protection for a federal agency.

I began having my own doubts about this mindset’s helpfulness in spiritual matters a few years ago. It happened not only through my growing self-help book collection and simultaneously diminishing self-respect and self-esteem, but also through an encounter with a book of theology. In Resident Aliens (a very readable but controversial classic in late 20th century popular theology) Duke professor and theologian Stanley Hauerwas reflects on the Beatitudes. Even if you aren’t a churchgoer you probably are familiar with these words which Jesus preached to a crowd early in his public ministry:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me.”

Hauerwas says that all too often Christians understand the passage as a vision for a saintly life - a description of a life open to suffering for God’s sake which all Christians should strive for but which only the saints achieve. He contends that most of us at our best admire those who embody the virtues of the Beatitudes, ask for forgiveness for our shortcomings, and then commit to trying harder. We make peace with falling short over and over again of a nearly impossibly high spiritual bar.

We’ve got it all wrong, Hauerwas argues. Instead of seeing the Beatitudes as a description of spiritual superstardom most of us can’t achieve, Hauerwas says that we should see the beauty and difficulty of the Beatitudes as an invitation to life in community. He argues that the primary ethical unit of Christianity isn’t the individual but the church; if anyone has a chance in hell to bear witness to the blessings Jesus describes it’s only because they have the support, encouragement, admonition, and love of a community.

I ditched my self-help book collection after reading Hauerwas because he helped me realize that the only times I’ve ever come close to embodying mercy, consolation, purity of heart or any of the other Beatitudes blessings is because of Christian community. The only time I’ve approached mercy with homeless folks was as part of a church group where we held an informal prayer service outside a Boston T stop, welcomed homeless folks to help lead the service, chatted over Dunkin Donuts, and distributed lunch and clothing on nearby streets. The only time I’ve approached purity of heart and forgiveness was with the guidance and challenge of a spiritual mentor, the accountability and support of spiritual friends, and a shared set of steps for spiritual growth. Visited a prisoner, welcomed a migrant into my home, sat with someone grieving the loss of a loved one, publicly protested injustice and been arrested - the list is lengthy of good things I’ve only mustered the goodness for because of my belonging to a Christian community.

My concern is that I didn’t hear you mention Christian community in your message. I hear that you want to learn “earthly challenges with faith and composure”. Whom do you admire in that endeavor? Do you talk to him or her regularly about how they developed their composure? We don’t expect people to become pianists or soccer players without a coach, team, and regular practice; how are you going to learn to forgive Trump without a spiritual director, a spiritual community, and a teaching on what one can do to cultivate a forgiving heart?

So what I wish for you more than any spiritual lesson is spiritual community, or at least a friend or two to laugh, love, learn and lament with. My experience, and my chosen theology, is that you won’t find what you seek without that. The Rev. Alexia Salvatierra in my podcast interview with her last month about organizing around immigrant rights said, “It’s not a DIY project.” I think the same could be said of following Jesus more generally. Church can be so boring, so befuddling, so disappointing, and yet I don’t know a better place to find the community you need to receive the blessings you desire.

What a time indeed! May God bless you with Christian community to make it through with your soul strong and your heart aflame!

Sincerely,

Duncan