What will resolve our division?

There's so much hostility and injustice in this world. It came to another head following the recent presidential election, as protests turned violent. Suspicion proliferates about our president-elect and, arguably, our society as a whole. I was probably just as angry and anxious as any average American, leading me to the common question: What will resolve this division?

Answer: Our leader would have to die for us.

No, I'm not encouraging assassination, but let's face it: it's hard to believe that any of our leaders genuinely care about us. Politicians, special-interest group heads, and religious leaders grapple for the microphone, seeking to justify and sustain their own positions, rather than truly seeking the benefit of everyone in our country. With occasional exceptions, these supposed leaders exploit the divisive drama to foster greater dependency on themselves by their constituents, donors, and congregational members.

The media, also, happily profit from the anger and fear of one party feeling victimized by another. Their audiences go from fear and anger to lengthening moments of disgust and apathy. Consequently, profiteering media compete to find or create more sensational drama; otherwise, they will lose their viewership and its dependency upon them. Supposed leaders also must stir still more negative emotion, driven to maintain a sense of urgency, lest their sycophants and various stakeholders move on to someone else. And so on.

Something about one's death on behalf of others breaks through all of this. The value of a person giving his/her life for another, or for a group of persons, demands a certain reverence. Disgust and apathy dissipate. Suddenly, whatever that person stated before death becomes meaningful-even compelling. Why? Because to die for someone is an irrefutable demonstration of love, the absence of which seems to drive so much of our hostility and unrest.

The origin of our condition, however, lies not merely within or between us humans. It resides within the human heart - the deepest parts of what we think and feel about our origin, our identity, and our purpose in this universe - and it's fundamentally flawed. That's why we will never eradicate our divisiveness through taxes, legal wrangling, or utopic fantasies. We can try to change our circumstances, but that only goes so far in resolving the condition of our hearts.

The prevailing narratives - at least those most often supported through mainstream media and public academia - say we originated from some "big bang." This story makes humans the lucky ones in the cosmic gene pool, as we miraculously evolved into our current state of being. Our highest purpose from this narrative might be construed as a grand campout, as people aspire to leave their campsites better than they found them.

Another narrative persists, though not immune to its own distortions and disappointments. The most compelling thread of this narrative begins and ends in the same utopia we all seem to long for (Eden, Heaven), except God fulfills the role of protagonist. Humans, as the recipients of God's grace, find their identity in a special relationship with this God, seeking to love one another as he first loved us.

This love was ultimately demonstrated in the death of God incarnate. He lived a radical life of love and service, and it was followed by his willing death on behalf of each of us. He provided the ultimate solution to our injustice and hostility. As the risen Savior, he invites each of us to accept his death to resolve the guilt and shame that perpetuates division and hostility. When we surrender our futile attempts otherwise, and submit to a life that loves and honors Christ, these hearts of ours begin to change.

This time of year naturally fosters reflection upon our narratives, individually and corporately. Beyond the romanticized Nativity scenes and consumerism, maybe it's time to reconsider what we really believe and why. For me, however imperfectly, I've chosen the path of love and peace found in Christ.