The Village ILWIDIot

Walt Wiltschek

“Make an effort to preserve the unity of the Spirit with the peace that ties you together.” —Eph. 4:3, CEB

A few months ago I read a book titled “The Other Wes Moore: One Name, Two Fates.” In a bit of worlds colliding, it happened to be a book assigned to students by the English department at the local high school where I’m currently working, but it was written by the now-governor of my former state of Maryland, Wes Moore.

In the book, he unspools the parallel tracks of two men named Wes Moore who grew up in Baltimore. One, the author, is now a governor. The other is a convicted murderer in prison. He talks about various experiences that diverged their paths (mentors, grandparents, educational opportunities), but one that stuck with me occurred while he was doing an internship in South Africa as a young adult. Talking with a woman whose husband had been arrested and beaten during the apartheid era, he asked her, “How are you now able to forgive? … How are you so able to move on?”

Her answer was deceptively simple: “Because Mr. Mandela asked us to.” As he reflected on this, Moore wrote: “Her simple and profound answer helped me to understand that ubuntu (a Bantu-Xhosa word describing a sense of human interconnectedness) was not simply a word. It was a way of life. … The common bond of humanity and decency that we share is stronger than any conflict, any adversity, any challenge. Fighting for your convictions is important. But finding peace is paramount. Knowing when to fight and when to seek peace is wisdom.”

Much that is happening in the world right now might stir us to fight, to push back, to make noise. There are certainly places where it is appropriate to do so. But in that righteous anger, it’s also important that we do not lose our humanity and our sense of interconnectedness with one another.

On a smaller scale, a similar dynamic is playing out within the church. As denominational staff member Stan Dueck led our clergy gathering recently (see more below), he described all the significant shifts taking place for the church and the fear and conflict those shifts can generate. We might need to push back on some trends, but we might also need to adapt and acknowledge our vulnerable places. The faith communities that succeed in this reality will keep core values, but they will also demonstrate flexibility, curiosity, and willingness to reimagine— putting people and vision ahead of buildings, programs, or church politics.

To paraphrase Wes Moore, knowing when to hold firm and when to open up to the Spirit’s scary new possibilities is wisdom. Through it all, our own ubuntu—our interconnectedness with each other and our neighborhoods through Christ—can hold us together, even when it might feel that so much around us is falling apart.