po·lar·i·za·tion
/ˌpōlərəˈzāSH(ə)n,ˌpōləˌrīˈzāSH(ə)n/
noun
- division into two sharply contrasting groups or sets of opinions or beliefs.
“the polarization of society between rich and poor” - PHYSICS the action of restricting the vibrations of a transverse wave, especially light, wholly or partially to one direction.
“changes in polarization of light passing through the atmosphere”
Half a century has passed since John Lennon asked us to imagine a world free of politics, economics, and religion that divides us. Whether or not we agree with Lennon’s vision for the world, we can’t ignore his critique of sharp contrasts between groups, nations, opinions, and beliefs that polarize “us” from “them.”
Even now, such polarization is an ever-deepening wound cutting through many spheres of life, including in the Church, where unity and reconciliation ought to bear their strongest expressions, and the wounds of Christ are meant to heal us as one (see 2 Corinthians 5:16-18).
In some ways, the Church has become one of the prominent ‘wounders’ in the world, with groups divided by opinions, beliefs, and doctrines with all the polarizing actions these words and beliefs prompt in us. All too often, questions like, “Who do you agree with?” and “What do you believe about this?” divide Christian communities by the very words we attach ourselves to. (In my own role as a Church pastor, I find myself becoming ever-cautious of what I share and who I share with, knowing my words can create all kinds of suspicion and division between me and others.)
Like Lennon, I believe this is not how it should be: the wounds of polarization should be overcome, must be overcome, and, probably more than anywhere, this ought to be a primary concern in the Church.
But how? How do we begin to not only envision de-polarization but also actualize it in the real world?
I want to suggest that we can begin by reconsidering our words…
Let’s begin with the first story in the Bible. Here, nothing exists except a God who speaks. God’s words are not yet the written and bound words of well-articulated books and Bibles, but they are there, in the beginning, as a sort of “living word” by which all things were made (see John 1:1-3).
This is easy to gloss over in our many-worded lives: before any other words were spoken, written, or shared between us, there was one word speaking earth and sky and life into being. Even now, our best words merely echo this and other events. And our attempts to reflect and retell the world’s story can only ever touch the edges of the much bigger whole.
This is where so many of us stumble into unfit postures of polarity. We often drift, consciously or not, into postures where our words, ideals, doctrines, and that ever-popular term “truths” become far too certain and immovable; where we place our words about God’s events as the “right ones” and others as the “wrong ones.” But in doing so, we misplace ourselves and shoulder the responsibility of truth-bearing impossible for any one to hold – a responsibility we were never intended to have.
Neither you nor I nor any creature were meant to say everything about God and God’s activity. Only God’s word can do that – and it did … or rather, he did.
The first chapter of John’s gospel holds the key to de-polarization that the Church must take to heart.
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made” (John 1:1-3).
And further, “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us” (John 1:14).
Before anything else, our faith is a reflection of events far greater than any of us but involving each of us. In Creation, God spoke. And in Jesus Christ, God spoke again in living form. Of course, we make use of our words as best we can to make sense of God’s words and actions, but this is always secondary – always ‘downstream’ from what is ultimate: the living, all-encompassing Word of God.
Whatever words we use or adopt about God and God’s truth, we must consider what came first, and what remains ‘above all.’ We must learn to see ourselves and one another as alive “within God’s word” that brought us into being and still holds all things together (see Colossians 1:17). Even my best words, alone, do not hold all things together. But God’s Word does. It enlivens me, holds me, describes me, and invites me to reflect openly.
And it does this for each of us.
This simple recognition begins to set us free from postures of polarization when words, opinions, and doctrines seek to become more than our best attempts to describe God, each other, and God’s world. Recognizing the limits of our words allows others to be free and alive before God. And it allows God’s greater “living word” to come to life within and among us.
So, perhaps we might revise Lennon’s words to say, “Imagine there’s a heaven, it’s easy if you try, where words before beginnings, speak above our sky.” Only then, with a humble posture before God’s word and our own, can we consider that my words are not final – and yours, as new and different as they might be, may say something rather important about this God beyond the skies.
That, I suggest, is the first and most basic step to the de-polarization we must pursue. Let’s hold our words properly, and together seek the one word above all.
Corey Parish lives in Fergus, Ontario where he works as a local church pastor and social service worker. He completed his doctoral research at Tyndale University in Toronto where he trained as a practical theologian and Certified Spiritual Director. As an adult with Autism Spectrum Disorder, Corey’s research and writing focus on intersections of theology, neurodiversity, and community structures in the Church and society.