August 14th

Room in our Hearts

Room in our Hearts
Ryan Dueck, pastor Lethbridge Mennonite Church

I recently clicked on a headline in The Globe and Mail with a sigh of resignation. “The Forgotten War in Syria.” It’s a place that has a unique place in my heart given our church’s efforts to sponsor refugees during the Syrian refugee crisis. I clicked because the war in Syria had receded into the shadows of my heart and mind and I probably felt like it shouldn’t have. The article was a plea to not just “move on” when the news does, to remain ever vigilant, ever attentive, our compassion and righteous indignation ever ready to be marshalled in the direction of all that has need of them in this fragile, broken, unjust, and violent world.

Near the end of the article, the author said something that made me pause:
But this should not be a popularity contest. There is room in our hearts and minds for more than one outcry for help.

I read those two sentences again. They sat awkwardly with me. I mean yes, in principle I agree that the news should not be a popularity contest. But in a media context where crumbling outlets are always scrambling to secure clicks in the context of ever diminishing attention spans, it kind of is. It’s sad, but it’s true. Why do most news sites have a sidebar with “Popular now” content? Popularity may not determine what content is produced, but it certainly influences it. If people stop clicking on news about Syria, news about Syria will no longer be produced. The same is true of every terrible thing that holds our horrified attention for a few weeks or months… and then doesn’t.

And then, the second sentence of that little quote. There is room in our hearts and minds for more than one outcry for help.

But what if there isn’t?

This is no whiny appeal to compassion fatigue or misguided plea for more self-care. It is just a recognition of basic human limitations. I don’t think we were designed to be aware of as much as the Internet daily puts before us. We simply can’t take that much on board. There is always too much going on that we can do too little about. Our information ecosystem places impossible demands upon us. We will inevitably triage the flow of terrible news in some way, or else just give up.

And each one of us has important things closer to home that require those same emotional, spiritual, and practical resources. Keeping food on the table in difficult economic circumstances. Children that need to be loved well amid many things in our culture that mitigate against them growing up in healthy ways. Friends and family that may be struggling. Local concerns in communities where addiction and poverty are wreaking endless havoc. Needs in our churches, many of which are struggling to maintain their vision in the context of steady decline. Trying to preserve faith, hope, and love in a culture undergoing a crisis of meaning and purpose, where loneliness and despair seem to be almost literally everywhere.

No, there isn’t always room in our hearts and minds. Sometimes, our hearts and minds are full. Sometimes, God may indeed be calling us away from the heartache across the world and toward the heartache across the dining room table or church sanctuary or in the office beside us. Sometimes God might be saying, “How about you don’t click around the outrage machine this morning and instead try to love one person in your personal, local orbit better today.