REFLECTIONS ON HATE


My upbringing has stood me in good stead while I have dealt with the death of (yet another) dream over the past two weeks. Raised in a fundamentalist Christian home I was taught not to hate. We knew from a young age that the word was forbidden … you did not HATE goulash or green peas, you cleaned up your plate or you went to bed without TV. In exploring boundaries (as I have always been wont to do) I was told that it is OK to HATE Satan. And his minions. And hell, of course. But certainly not little black children when they were sent by President Eisenhower to attend school with whites in Little Rock, Arkansas. My mother explained that her parents who lived in nearby Searcy were wrong to be so upset about that. That was the beginning of my way down the long road to becoming a “libtard.”

Later I learned that it was OK to hate the SIN, but never the SINNER. That has saved me from alienating completely the friends and family members on Facebook who announced months back that they would be voting for the candidate whose behavior and views I detest. And I do hope I will not lose them when I explain why I consider their vote on November 8, 2016 to rise to that level of transgression that makes me seethe inside when I allow myself to think about it. It is impossible to ever stop loving  them, as they have not rejected me as it has become clear over the years that my brand of Christianity is very different from theirs, and that my lifestyle as well is one they will never be able to accept totally. Sinners can and should be forgiven, we were taught; and while repentance may enter into the equation, it is never a precondition. Not in my belief system anyway. 

So, in that light, I hope to continue to have discussions with my SINNER friends and family members in the coming years about the state of our nation and our society, as we learn together what lies in store for us under the looming presidency of Donald J. Trump.