a third way - to bear witness
a third way — to bear witness
by Danielle S. Castillejo
November 2, 2020
Dear Friends,
Trauma and Politics. Jesus, where are you?
The anger, rage, hurt, hopes, dreams we carry both alone and together are awake in our bodies. Our great common ground, whether we vote one way or the other, is that we care deeply and fear one another. However, this mixture of care and fear resonating inside of us is often fragmented and disembodied.
Wisdom is grounded in embodied knowing, holding complexity without losing conviction. We must imagine a third way.
The embers of fear flaming fires in both conservative and liberal circles are scorching the earth. Conservatives demand their right to live in independence from their neighbor. Liberals threaten to steal any sense of individuality. These fears steal personhood, hijack shared faith, and command our society to bow to white supremacy and nationalism.
Our shared trauma is shrapnel penetrating our limbs, causing a life-threatening infection.
Fear—not faith, not liberty and not justice for all—dictates the platforms of both political parties. Our fear is a mask for the common shames we carry. Fear is the common denominator for those who hail as lifelong conservatives and lifelong democrats. It is powerful. It is packaged, sold, and weaponized. We use fear to protect our collective and personal shame.
This shame thwarts restoration, and intensifies our personal and collective trauma.
We hide from one another, producing a patronizing indifference for what is inadequately called “our” trauma. I turn my face from my enemy because I am afraid to see my reflection in their eyes. Likewise, my enemies turn away. The Jesus I learned about has been too fragile to tell the truth about sex, slavery, life, birth, guns, shame and redemption – he keeps me on edge, and also keeps me from allowing love to rest in my body. His command to “turn the other cheek” is cheapened as an obligated surrender to people and systems.
Jesus enters heartache, families, AND systems. He is far more expansive – a reflection of beauty and brokenness. He tells the truth. He offers hope.
I need a witness to heal.
My enemies need a witness.
If I am to call on Jesus, he needs to be able to bear my brokenness and beauty, birthed out of knowing his face is lovely so that I too, can walk into the camp of my enemy and see creation reflected in their face.
My body and face reveal brokenness and beauty. As I allow Jesus to witness me, I open doors of honor, paving the way toward a different kind of knowing. It’s a knowing birthed from a place of kindness and truth. Leaders who work with their own narratives, holding their experiences of shame and harm with THE kindness Jesus reflects back to us, provide a safe place for healing, challenging patterns of survival of those they work with.
Fears and struggles are invitations to life, community, connection and healing. Remen (2001) writes, in "My Grandfather's Blessings," "The wisdom our wounds can offer us is a place of refuge. Finding this is not for the faint of heart, but then, neither is life." I believe God is in the business of offering refuge in our fears, struggles. Jesus struggled, feared and brought peace. I give myself to the One who offers His presence, wait for Him in my fears.
It is in the collective witness of our trauma, shame — the beauty and the brokenness — which we find the possibility of reconciliation for conservatives and liberals. Jesus asks us to repent of our reliance on shame and fear, and engage the intersection of rage and worship.
We are called to truth which enters heartache and anger, strangling shame —turning our faces toward a living God.
We are called to a third way — to bear witness.
Standing with you, fighting for a third way, bearing witness as we are called to - AND loving our enemies, as we care for our souls in 2020.
Love and prayers,
Danielle S. Castillejo
Sources: Dan Allender, Chelle Stearns, Angela Parker, Rebekah Vickery, Steph O’Brien, Jo Saxton, Miguel De La Torre, Eliza Cortes Bast, Maggie Hemphill, Kali Jensen, Rachael Clinton Chen, Jenni Waldron