Guns, God and Country?

Just saw this sign in front of a neighbor’s house.

My first response?

To write a quick, hopefully witty blog where I say something like, “No words,” and let you figure out the rest.

I’m pretty sure that most of you reading this would share my sense of amazement at that sign. How do those words go together? Guns and God? Trump and God?

I expect that we might shake our heads at someone who would buy a sign like that. We would love to remind them that God is a God of love, not of guns and country, especially if we limit “country” to just our country, the good old USA. We would say that Jesus came to bring peace, that he never armed himself. He cared for the widows and the orphans, the poor and the downtrodden. He wasn’t a fan of the religious establishment. He wasn’t much of a patriot. He was sort of an anti-Trump.

(I am tempted to cut that last sentence. I know it could be offensive. But I think it’s true. This is me trying to be brave, friends.)

Then, I was thinking how that sign nicely encapsulates so much of what I’ve been learning from Richard Rohr’s teachings about “First Half of Life” spirituality vs. “Second Half of Life” spirituality. My neighbor with his Trump sign? Clearly in the first half of life! The first level of consciousness is dominated by security, safety and defense needs. Dualistic thinking is common, Rohr says. An obsession with guns and country and believing that’s what God loves too? That’s low level spirituality. See Rohr’s book “The Naked Now” for a beautiful introduction to the “Levels of Development.”

For a moment, I was feeling pretty good about myself. Proud that I was able to clearly identify first half of life spirituality. Proud that it wasn’t me that had such a ridiculous sign on her front lawn.

Then it hit me.

I am not so very different from my neighbor.

As soon as I start pointing fingers and judging,  I’m at those lower levels of spirituality, too.

Whenever we start judging who is good or bad, right or wrong, and we decide that we, of course, are good and right, and those people out there, the people with the dumb signs on their lawns, that they are wrong?  When I start to congratulate myself on my superior politics and my correct understanding of our good God? Then that’s me, first half of life Robin, large and in charge. Without a gun, of course. But proud of  my evolved knowledge of God.

I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I find the sign troublesome. I think President Trump is, to say it kindly, problematic. I think another four years of him as our leader would be disastrous.

Yet I love people who support Trump. Many, many people who love Jesus support Trump.  I feel like somehow we are living in two different realities, two different worlds. I don’t know what to do about the divide between these people I love and me. I don’t know what to do about the divide in our country. I don’t understand the emotions that led my neighbor to proudly display that sign on his lawn. But I have a feeling that he would say hello to me if we passed on the road, walking our dogs. He would help me if my car was stuck in the ditch. He bears the image of God. He is full of the light of God.

What does it mean for me to love him? What would it mean to have a conversation about the sign? To disagree, yes, but then to offer a handshake, a hug, and say, “I am here and I am with you.”   To see the light in him. To know that we are in this together. It would be a gift. I’m not sure it seems possible right now.  But maybe a first step for me is just to offer thanks for him and all that is light, every time I pass his house, every time I see his sign.