In these days following the Blue Tsunami, I’ve heard a lot of propaganda about the coming scourge of socialism or communism or Sharia Law or __fill in the blank__. The fear mongering messages keep drawing me back to a core memory from my own years in congregational ministry:
Several years ago, as part of a congregation’s Lenten study series, we tried something different. Instead of hearing lectures from experts on a given topic, we focused on practicing civil dialogue — and we acknowledged the variety of expertise already in the room.
Each week, after reciting our covenant for caring conversation, we took on a different hot button issue: immigration, church/state, etc. But instead of duking it out and drawing lines in the sand, we followed a very important guiding principle: no one could talk about their position on an issue. Instead, around dining tables, church folk were invited to share their EXPERIENCE of the issue.
Rather than arguments starting with “I believe” or “Well, I think,״ people told stories from their lives: stories of working and living along the US/Mexico border, being welcomed into an immigrant’s family, feeling uncomfortable when workmates all switched to a different language, and on and on. As those stories were shared, understanding blossomed. We weren’t labels, positions, or recited propaganda. We were people whose understanding of issues had been shaped by experience: both our own and the experience of loved ones.
During those mealtime conversations no ideological demands were made of one another, yet views shifted. Why? Partly, I think, because of the covenant we remade, week after week, to show up, tell our stories, tap out when needed without being judged, and listen – especially when it was hard. Perhaps more importantly, views shifted because when we tell the stories of our lives, speaking them into community, our experiences are alchemized, becoming SHARED experience.
That might sound a bit “woo woo” upon first hearing, but the same is true of the stories found in scripture. I know the sign of a true neighbor is not where they live but how they care for others, and I know it because I’ve experienced a Samaritan who cared extravagantly for a Judean traveler who’d been left for dead on the Jericho road. Likewise, I know the extravagantly loving hospitality of Muslim families because I’ve been nourished by my friends’ experiences living in Egypt or sharing meals with Muslim neighbors in their own American neighborhoods.
The greatest threat to propaganda is experience. When you find yourself being told who to hate or who to fear, turn to your actual lived experience of the human beings being blamed. Does it fit the propaganda narrative? Truly? Or are you being swayed because you have no actual experience with those groups of people? If that’s the case, and the propaganda is projecting onto an experiential blank wall, seek out the people and their stories. Fill the wall and THEN see if the projection holds up. I’m betting it won’t.
Experience. Story. Truth. May they lead us out of fear and into beloved community. Amen.
