By Jane Korvemaker
Recently I found myself in a situation that caused me to see a bit of red in my vision. Online (for where else does this happen most often for us?), a woman posted artwork of Indigenous children being forcibly removed from their families, a work by Kent Monkman. She asked this large Catholic group in genuine honesty what the situation was about, as it depicted the RCMP, priests, and nuns tearing crying children from mothers who were desperately holding onto them. It is a piece of art that truly causes one to stop and reflect, as art should do. The comments, however, were much less reflective and largely misinformed.
One comment that stood out to me simply stated, “Anti-Catholic propaganda.” I gently challenged this statement, indicating that what the art remembers is a part of our history. This solicited a response of many articles claiming that everything about the residential school deaths was a complete hoax.
Well, friends, as a people who live within the communities where the reality of residential schools occurred and live amidst people whose grandparents and parents experienced first-hand the generational trauma of this system, how might you respond?
Responding With and Without Prudence
I want to yell, “YOU’RE WRONG!” (yes, in all caps) and list every precise way in which this person and the articles indiscriminately posted at me are wrong. I am filled with righteous anger over this misrepresentation.
However, I’m at a point in my life where I’m weighing my words with greater prudence than I once did (it almost shocks me that I am capable of this at times). My heart can burn with such anger over these things, and my vision can become red. It is wrong for me to respond in such a state. Even if I am right, the manner in which I respond to the other person indicates whether or not I believe that they are truly made in the image and likeness of God.
The thing is, I really do want to respect the value of every person I encounter as though they are Jesus before me. I don’t want this important Christian belief to just be hearsay. But I understand that this is often the last thing I want to choose to do in the moments of being angry, even righteous anger. The first thing I’d rather do is dehumanize them and so establish my superiority.
Let me say that again.
The first thing I’d rather do is dehumanize them and so establish my superiority.
Whoa. Wait a darned second.
When I can pull out what lies underneath my impulse to respond in anger, I see something reflective of the attitude that permeated encounters with the Aboriginal peoples.
Ouch. I don’t like that association.
So I stand on the edge of the precipice: do I allow this sneaking attitude to sway my thoughts and actions, or do I choose something different?
I’ve found that my responses now go through several filters:
- Time. Taking time away from the situation to allow my emotions to settle.
- Prayer. Taking time to ask God whether this is something important enough to speak on.
- Balance. Is the time I invest into proving my point actually going to influence this person (or others)? Would I be saying ‘no’ to something more important if I spent time responding?
- Are the fruits of the Spirit present when I contemplate responding? Do I experience love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Gal. 5:22-23)? Or do I experience paranoia, distrust, suspicion, self-protection, fear, pride, envy, greed, and/or gluttony?
- Can I walk away at any point (without leaving a last word) and feel at peace with how I’ve conducted myself?
If I cannot at the least choose to walk away instead of crucifying another with words/attitude, I am committing a sin. I am separating myself from the love of God, for I am not acknowledging Christ, even in my very wrong neighbour.
It can be hard for some of us to walk away. In this instance, it came to light that the person utterly and completely disagreed that the Church had any role in residential schools. The vehement attitude of the person was not something I could dialogue with in a meaningful way. I respectfully disagreed while authentically attempting to understand the point of view, but this task is not mine alone. I can walk away and trust that God has means that I do not and I have not remained silent.
Lent is nearly upon us. As we form our hopes for renewal this season, let’s work to humanize our encounters online. Humanize encounters the way Jesus said to do: love as he has radically loved us.
Title was inspired by this comic:
Jane Korvemaker is a B.C. transplant who lives in Saskatoon with her husband, three children, and mischievous cat. She holds a Certificate in Culinary Arts, Bachelor of Theology, Certificate in Youth Ministry Studies, and is a Level Two Catechist in Catechesis of the Good Shepherd. She hopes to one day find the perfect pairing of bacon, beer, and Balthasar. She semi-regularly writes at ajk2.ca
