One

Unity in a Divided World

Deidra Riggs

• Publisher: Baker Books
• Year: 2017
• Print ISBN: 9780801018435
• eBook ISBN: 9781493406524
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Religion

Jesus didn't say that the world would know we are his followers by our biting rhetoric, our political leanings, our charity work, or even by our knowledge of Scripture. He said the world would know us by our love for one another. Yet it's so easy to put others at arm's length, to lash out, to put up walls. Deidra Riggs wants us to put our focus on self-preservation aside and, like Jesus, make the first move toward reconciliation.

In One, Riggs shows readers that when Jesus offered himself up in our place, he was not only purchasing our salvation but also setting an example for us to follow. She helps readers understand that they are secure in God's inexhaustible love, making them free to love others lavishly--not just in what they do but in what they say, what they don't say, what they will endure, and what they will forgive.

Anyone who longs for unity in the church, in their family, and in their community will find in this book both inspiring examples of loving done well and encouragement to begin the often unnoticed hard work of building bridges with those around them.

1. A Soul that Hears Well

The purpose is not to defeat your enemy, but to defeat the force that makes you hate each other. —Michelle Higgins

When my husband, Harry, was young, maybe three or four years old, his mom took him to a child’s birthday party. Another boy at the party was bigger than Harry and fairly tough looking, as preschoolers go, but just a few weeks older than him. We’ll call him David.

When Harry showed up at the birthday party, David was holding a helium-filled balloon. Spying the balloon, Harry walked up to David, looked into David’s eyes, and said, “I’m going to take your balloon.”

After Harry laid down the gauntlet, professing his intent to separate David from his balloon, David stared down his nose at Harry and said to him, “I will beat you up if you take my balloon.”

Needless to say, Harry didn’t get the balloon. He later recounted the details of the incident to his wise mom, who listened closely to the story and, in that moment, decided the best way to handle the situation would be to set up a playdate for Harry and David. She contacted David’s mom, arranged a day for them to get together, and the next thing anyone knew, Harry and David were becoming best friends.

Their friendship grew and their families became close. They traveled together and spent holidays together; they grieved together and celebrated together.

Then one day, when Harry and David were about ten or twelve years old, David became very sick. He spiked a high fever—high enough that David had to be hospitalized. After he arrived at the hospital, David fell into a coma and the doctors and nurses worked resolutely to restore his health. Harry’s family gathered to offer support and, thankfully, David began to recover. On the day David awoke from his coma, he asked to see Harry.

Being just a young boy, Harry had been fairly oblivious to the details of David’s illness. All he knew was his friend was sick, so when Harry’s mom told him David was awake and wanted to see him, Harry didn’t think twice. He got in the car so his parents could drive him to the hospital to sit with David.

All these years later—almost five decades!—Harry and David remain close friends.

When I hear a story like this, I start feeling all warm and fuzzy on the inside and think to myself, I love a story that ends well like that. It’s easy for me to forget how one wise and seasoned mother positively impacted the trajectory of this story. When Harry and David met, both were focused only on having that balloon. Harry’s mom, however, was focused on the relationship between the young boys.

Isn’t that how it goes? As those two boys saw it, getting that balloon was most important. But there was just one balloon and that one balloon could not be divided. Only one boy could have it, and each assumed the balloon should belong to him. As David saw it, the balloon was his in the first place. But, as Harry saw it, the balloon was something he wanted, and Harry was used to getting what he wanted.

In her great wisdom, Harry’s mom knew more was at stake than just a balloon. What mattered most was the relationship between these two boys, and the impact a friendship could have on them both.

What’s at Stake

When I watch my brothers and sisters in the body of Christ argue with one another or hear of churches splitting up or notice a congregation or conference with little to no diversity, I have to wonder what’s at stake. I wonder what it would take to set up a playdate of sorts so we could try to figure out what common ground might look like. I wonder what answers I might get if I started asking questions like, “What’s at stake for you here? Why are you arguing so loudly and calling people names? Why can’t we keep worshiping together? Why can’t we figure out how to add some people of color (or some white people or some women or some fill-in-the-blank, depending on the situation) to the speaker lineup? What are we clinging to so tightly?”

What’s “at stake” for you?

Despite our good intentions, passion for justice, or desire to “defend the gospel,” we often let ourselves get in the way. In his book The Road to Character, David Brooks emphasizes this tendency:

The United States ambassador to the United Nations, Samantha Power, perceptively observes that some people put themselves “at stake” when they get involved in a cause. That is to say, they feel that their own reputation and their own identity are at stake when decisions are made. They are active in the cause in part because of what it says about them, and they want their emotions and their identity and their pride to be validated along the way.1 (emphasis mine)

This question of identity is a crucial element in the journey toward the oneness Jesus desires for us. If we can extricate our identity from the result of any discussion, argument, debate, or conversation, we stand a much better chance of achieving the harmony we so richly desire. Our identity is not impacted by whether or not others agree with us, or even by what others think about us. Instead, finding the right perspective on who we are is based on understanding whose we are. If I can rest in the confidence of knowing that neither my reputation nor my identity is founded on whether I “win” a particular argument or choose the “right” side, my investment becomes less and less about proving you wrong and more about building a relationship with you. A relationship based not on the ways we differ but on the elements of our stories, personalities, and experiences that enrich, stretch, and refine each of us.

Of course, this doesn’t mean our differences automatically disappear. They don’t. Nor should they. All kinds of differences contribute to the beautiful fabric of God’s creation. As we grow in relationship with one another, our differences become supporting players in the main act of what we are building together.

Passing Through

In a 2012 podcast, Krista Tippett interviewed Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, who said, “[We] are enlarged by the people who are different from us.”2

This is a profound thought, and it calls each of us to invite God to broaden our horizons, expand our views, and stretch us by teaching us how to pass through the differences of those who journey with us—but not like us. What does it mean to pass through our differences? We pass through our differences by being fully present when we encounter them. With our full attention, we give praise to God for his creative work, made manifest in the unique makeup of each person we meet. We suspend judgment—and pray others do the same for us. We listen with our hearts and let our view of things take a breather. As Terry Tempest Williams writes, “Can we listen with our whole beings, not just our minds, and offer our attention rather than our opinions?”3

Either we lean into all of who the other person is, or we don’t. Either we acknowledge, celebrate, and honor the differences between us or we ignore or disparage them and, by extension, cut short the potential for experiencing the fullness of the relationship—the depth of the friendship. Passing through our differences does not ignore or negate them. But passing through them, rather than pushing against them, lets us absorb and be absorbed by the things that make us different from one another. We pass through our differences again and again. This is not the same as wallowing in them until they become all we see. We pass through them in celebration and thanksgiving to God for his extravagant creativity and rich imagination. The direct result of passing through these differences is that we each stand as better, richer, more complete representations of God’s image in the world. Passing through leads from the heart. The opposite is bracing against. Passing through our differences is an exercise in grace. Grace is essential to finding oneness.

An Understanding Heart

I often wonder how best to help us find our way to oneness, which is not the same as sameness. How can we help take the focus off our personal, metaphorical, helium-filled balloons and get us to collectively focus on what matters most of all?

I guess one step might be to identify the balloon, right? For some of us, the balloon might represent power, health, comfort, wealth, safety, or the conviction of being right or justified or vindicated. For others, the balloon might represent freedom, status, peace, or shelter—for ourselves or for others. Or maybe we’re simply driven by the fact that all we’ve ever known is the importance of hanging on to our balloon. No matter what.

While Harry and David may have gotten distracted by that birthday balloon, let’s be fair in our conversation here. Many of the disputes in our history have had, at their root, the question of who gets to claim ownership of something (or—when we’re at our very worst—someone). One of the most intriguing accounts of this type of dispute is outlined in the Old Testament book of 1 Kings.

In that story, two prostitutes present themselves to King Solomon, asking him to resolve a dispute between them.

“Please, my lord,” one of them began, “this woman and I live in the same house. I gave birth to a baby while she was with me in the house. Three days later this woman also had a baby. We were alone; there were only two of us in the house.

“But her baby died during the night when she rolled over on it. Then she got up in the night and took my son from beside me while I was asleep. She laid her dead child in my arms and took mine to sleep beside her. And in the morning when I tried to nurse my son, he was dead! But when I looked more closely in the morning light, I saw that it wasn’t my son at all.”

Then the other woman interrupted, “It certainly was your son, and the living child is mine.”

“No,” the first woman said, “the living child is mine, and the dead one is yours.” And so they argued back and forth before the king.

Then the king said, “Let’s get the facts straight. Both of you claim the living child is yours, and each says that the dead one belongs to the other. All right, bring me a sword.” So a sword was brought to the king.

Then he said, “Cut the living child in two, and give half to one woman and half to the other!”

Then the woman who was the real mother of the living child, and who loved him very much, cried out, “Oh no, my lord! Give her the child—please do not kill him!”

But the other woman said, “All right, he will be neither yours nor mine; divide him between us!”

Then the king said, “Do not kill the child, but give him to the woman who wants him to live, for she is his mother!” (1 Kings 3:17–27 NLT)

The women who stood before the king were motivated by intense feelings of loss and fear, grief and shame, anger and pain. Imagine yourself in their place. At first, it may be tempting to jump to the defense of the woman whose child was alive and had been stolen in the night by the woman whose child had died. “How could anyone steal another woman’s child?” we may be tempted to ask. But what must it be like to wake up and discover your child’s lifeless body there beside you in the bed, and then to realize their life had slipped away while they lay sleeping, beneath your own body? How must that impact your sense of reality? It was a tragic situation, to be sure, and the two women found themselves at an impasse. Blinded by their very real and legitimate anguish, these two women sought a solution in the court of the king.

This story has stood the test of time as an example of the great wisdom of this young king. Not long before these two women stood before him, desperate for a resolution, King Solomon had asked God for an understanding heart to lead his people, and God granted his request (see 1 Kings 3:9–12). Many translations of the Bible render the phrase understanding heart as wisdom, and that’s not far from the truth. However, we get closer to the true meaning of Solomon’s request when we return to the original language for the phrase “understanding heart”: שָׁמַע לֵב, pronounced shama’ leb.

Shama’ means “to hear, listen to, obey.” Maybe you’re familiar with the Jewish prayer found in Deuteronomy 6, which begins, “Hear, O Israel: the LORD our God, the LORD is one” (v. 4). This prayer, called the Shema (based on this same Hebrew word for “hear”) is a call to remember and revere the foundational truths of the Jewish faith. Solomon would have known this prayer. As he asked God for an understanding heart, Solomon may have been rooting his request in a deep-seated devotion and desire to honor the God of his fathers as he sought to rule fairly over God’s people.

While leb means “heart,” it refers to more than the organ with four chambers that pumps blood through our bodies. Heart, in this instance, means inner person, mind, will, understanding. In this instance, the word heart is closer in meaning to the word soul. And so, what King Solomon was really asking for from God was a soul that hears well; a soul that listens and then, based on what it hears, chooses the path that best honors God and serves others.

Looking at those two distraught mothers standing before him, King Solomon must have recalled his request for an understanding heart. Each woman had a lot at stake as they stood there, presenting their cases and awaiting his verdict. Like Harry’s mother, who had to make a decision about how to deal with two boys who wanted the same balloon, King Solomon desired an outcome that would have a deeper impact than a simple decision about the baby. Solomon, as God’s ambassador, was even more concerned about the heart of each woman who stood in his court, seeking justice. He was equally concerned about the heart of that child who would live his life under the import of Solomon’s decision. Solomon’s decision was for the baby. And Solomon’s focus didn’t stop there. His decision was also for the women. Both of the women.

Longing to Be Right

You and I might quickly look at two boys arguing over who gets to keep a birthday balloon or two distraught women seeking justice when only one baby is left between them, and try to figure out which one is “right.” A longing to be right is often at the heart of our arguments, our divided churches, and our small social circles where everyone thinks and looks and lives exactly like us. We choose a side, and we fight for that side. When we do this, our focus is calibrated toward about rather than for.

What Solomon’s and Harry’s mothers knew is that being “right” isn’t the goal. Jesus didn’t say, “I have come that they may be right.” It’s easy to get confused. I know this, because I’ve done it. I’ve gotten mixed up and thought the whole reason Jesus came to earth, died on...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Endorsements
• Dedication
• Epigraph
• Contents
• Introduction
• 1. A Soul that Hears Well
• 2. Integrated Experiences
• 3. What Do We Do about Evil and Injustice?
• 4. Let It Go
• 5. The Power to Unite
• 6. Awake in the Dark
• 7. Our Breaking Point
• 8. Beyond Our Wildest Imagination
• 9. One with Ourselves
• 10. Return to Home
• Conclusion
• A Note from the Author
• For One . . . or More: A Study Guide
• Acknowledgments
• Notes
• About the Author
• Back Ads
• Back Cover