hypocrite

“Sometimes you have to go along to get along.” That’s what a Christian co-worker often says when he thinks speaking out for our faith will be disruptive in the office. It’s also the way a lot of Christians think about inclusion and diversity. 

There’s an early example in Galatians 2:11-13: “When Cephas came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, because he stood condemned. For before certain men came from James, he used to eat with the Gentiles. But when they arrived, he began to draw back and separate himself from the Gentiles because he was afraid of those who belonged to the circumcision group. The other Jews joined him in his hypocrisy, so that by their hypocrisy even Barnabas was led astray.”

Too often when I read the Bible I relate to the bad guys. I get Cephas. I find that new and different people are interesting and engaging, and add a lot to my life, right up to the moment when my tribe, my friends and family, disagree. It’s like I’m right back in middle school, watching the cool group to figure out how I should act and doing what they valued to try to be accepted.

Sometimes I find the courage to speak up when others are put down at family gatherings or during church fellowship. Sometimes I try to get people to see the longing for safety and inclusion that drives most immigrants, illegal or otherwise. I point out that guns are scary to people who aren’t experienced with them. I mention that members of the other party are often just as patriotic and love our country as much, they just see different solutions. I challenge the labels that we slap on people we don’t want to understand.

Often when I do that both sides end up frustrated and angry, because these days being right is more important to us than most other things. Those times, the pushback makes those attempts too painful. Usually I just nod my head and make simple, monosyllabic responses that keep conversations from turning into arguments. 

So I can be as much of a hypocrite as Cephas, and often am. I can enjoy my Somali friends at work and my Tanzanian all-grown-up Compassion child who found us on Facebook, and then keep silent to all the racist and anti-immigrant comments from my peers. And, I can turn around and judge the people who aren’t like me but who my friends or family value.

It’s hard to be as constant as Paul. I relate better to Cephas and Barnabas. But Jesus is the most constant and faithful of all; Jesus loved everyone, even those who killed him. And, much as I want to be accepted by my tribe, I want to be loved by Jesus even more.