The Skin You’re In

A friend from seminary preached at church this week and talked about the passive aggression behind the phrase, ‘bless your heart.’ Most of us have been a part of a conversation when someone says or does something others consider less than appropriate or intelligent, and a ‘bless her heart’ is offered. These three words keep the offender at a safe but affectionate distance. 

Then there are those who truly offend us; those for whom we hold no affection. In How to Think, Alan Jacobs references the phrase ‘repugnant cultural other’ to describe those who diametrically oppose our own ideologies—our neighborhood ‘outgroup.’ Define ‘neighborhood’ however you like, but most of us can identify characteristics of ‘our people’ and those of ‘others.’ And there’s often an air of repugnance when we talk about the latter. 

But those ideas, beliefs, behaviors, and even apparel that make our stomachs turn and eyes roll are only a tiny part of that human before us. Each human, all of them made in the image of our loving God, has a heart and mind that guide their daily lives. We share much more in common than we have differences. But it’s the differences that we see first and loudest—the comment that catches our attention or the social media post that catches our eye, the t-shirt, laptop sticker, hat, or other consumer choice that stands out in a crowd. 

One might argue these outward facing signals are the skin we choose. Our outward selves before others project our priorities, lest anyone not know who and what we value or what trend we support.

According to the collectively accepted account, Saint Bartholomew the apostle was flayed alive and beheaded, then his remains were thrown into sea (which made their way back). Either out of honor or a solid sense of humor, he became the patron saint of tanners and neurological diseases. Bartholomew is also believed to be the one mentioned as Nathanael in the Gospel of John. In the first chapter Jesus refers to the purity of Nathanael/Bartholomew’s heart, that there was no duplicity in him. It’s what’s inside that counts after all.

What if we assumed something similar about our neighbors: that they are true of heart. They are doing the best they can at any given moment.

Our differences make us, as a community, better. Considering new ideas is how we innovate and remove antiquated beliefs from our collective canon. And it’s on us to be diligent about not silencing those we see as other, repugnant, or those whose hearts we bless from afar, ignorant that it is we who may be in the wrong.

In On Liberty, John Stuart Mill writes, ‘The peculiar evil of silencing the expression of an opinion is that it is robbing the human race; posterity as well as the existing generation; those who dissent from the opinion, still more than those who hold it. If the opinion is right, they are deprived of the opportunity of exchanging error for truth: if wrong, they lose, what is almost as great a benefit, the clearer perception and livelier impression of truth, produced by its collision with error.’ 

To barricade ourselves and our families inside a purposefully close-minded camp of values and opinions without valuing the human experience of the ‘other,’ irresponsibly perpetuates an us versus them, ingroup versus outgroup way of seeing the world. 

My church works to push against the us versus them mentality by including local churches, even those with whom we disagree, in our prayers each week. We also pray for our local schools and all those who work in and for them. We are called to love others; even those with whom we disagree. 

In his new book The Art of Being a Creature, the Rev. Ragan Sutterfield argues that if we are truly humble, we do not risk humiliation. He quotes Australian monastic Michael Casey, ‘Humility is, above all, a respect for the nature of things,’ then Sutterfield goes on to say that ‘Humility is a way toward love. It helps us to enter the world, the real world that resists our desires to shape it according to our wills. Real love is always built in relationship with another that is not ours to possess or mold. … In my love, I come to adore them in their otherness.’ 

So how do we lower our defenses, suspend our judgment, and challenge our own settled thinking?How do we develop our habit of hospitable, grace-filled thinking and model that for our children? How do we love anyway? 

Funny you should ask. I have an idea. 

During Advent, many churches put out a food collection calendar. During Lent, we absorb new disciplines. What if, in what remains of our Ordinary Time, we make a purposeful effort to un-other some of our neighbors? These neighbors made extraordinary simply because, like you, they were made in the image of a loving God. 

I present to you, the Love Your Neighbor family bingo card. It is purposefully ambiguous, open to your interpretation, includes opportunity for engagement from family members of all ages, and includes no “service,” per se, just a charitable spirit to see past the skin and facade to an other’s heart.