It is what I do when my lesser nature – my Ego, my fragile, undifferentiated Self – decides to take control. I “other” others. The recent violence in a LGBTQ nightclub, followed three days later with more violence in a Walmart, is happening to others, at least that is what I tell myself. I can post an indignation, I can rant against gun culture, I can blame any number of things – but all of this is “othering.” And all I have done is separated myself from others, which is simply self-righteousness wearing another mask.

I other others in politics.

I other others in religion.

I other others according to socio-economic categories.

I other others along racial, ethnic, sexual, and gendered lines.

I other others by intellect, by abilities, by capacities.

Shall I go on with this confession?

Let me appeal to you, my other, and invite us to a better way of being and belonging. Philosopher/Theologian Martin Buber writes: “The true community does not arise through peoples having feelings for one another…but through, first, their taking their stand in living mutual relation with a living Centre, and, second, their being in living mutual relation with one another.” (I and Thou, p. 45)

Until we see ourselves in others – in the broken places as well as the whole – we will continue to walk perilously among the shards and fragments of brokenness. Sooner or later we too will succumb to the wounds born out of the violent othering.

With Advent quickly following Thanksgiving, it is timely to point out that Jesus was born during a violent othering. Throughout his life Jesus attempted to live with the “Thou” of others, including Samaritans, women, children, Roman centurions, and the demon-possessed. Jesus died because he became other to others, and the Imperially empowered had no room for such otherness.

Today in a world saturated by violent othering, may we remember and live alongside Christ, who othering with others, even when some think they have this Prince of Peace all to themselves.

Gratefully,

Greg