In reading through my FB feed this morning, I came upon this, a post from Jenn Hatmaker written two years ago. This is another way to explain the division - but I still believe this is the result of the difference between those that are willing to break rank with their entire circle of influence in order to embrace a new theology and those that are too afraid of being different:
Quoting Jenn Hatmaker:
I got way down to the bottom of something this weekend, a nagging burr in my saddle I couldn't quite identify.
In hindsight, I realize this goes way back to my high school youth group days when I was armed with a sketchy, incomplete set of apologetics and turned loose on my local public school to do battle for Jesus. The verse that rang in my ears inducing a fresh new wave of terror every time: "Whoever denies me before man, I will deny him before my Father in heaven." This was always taught to me with a nervous eye toward the sky, because if I knew anything about God, it is that He was WATCHING and taking stock of defectors and certainly prepared to be punitive.
This "I am not ashamed" posture, the "take this hill!" language, this big time warrior narrative...it is the burr in my saddle. Some combination of being incredibly defensive, incredibly offensive, and generally about a war, which usually means other people become our enemies, sends me quietly walking backwards, wondering what it is about spiritual battling that leaves me so unsettled.
I dug down to the bottom of it this weekend after reading some war language online again, then forcing myself to sit still in prayer and figure out why it made me feel out of sorts. Found it:
In my lifelong relationship with Jesus, I have never identified as a warrior. I have always felt like a neighbor.
The neighbor is the one you call when you're hurt, the one you invite over for dinner, the one that welcomes you to the neighborhood and tells you the best pediatrician in town. The neighbor has your back, even if the two of you came from wildly different places. The neighbor is the Good Samaritan, not the priest and the Levite who crossed the street to avoid spiritual contamination.
The neighbor brings Good News, not war.
The warrior is out to win. The warrior is always feeling attacked and persecuted, keeping an eye on the horizon for impending enemies, real or perceived. The warrior uses weapons which often cause great and lasting pain. The warrior sees herself as the hero of the story - defending, protecting, ultimately winning.
But God doesn't need us to defend Him; He needs us to represent Him.
I guess a good litmus test is how people on the other side of us feel: If we are in a war, I bet they feel like enemies. If we are acting like good neighbors, I bet they feel loved.
Now, sometimes we must defend PEOPLE. Oh yes. Waging war against injustice and inequality and bondage and hatred: HERE FOR IT. But I would still identify that work as being a good neighbor. That's just showing up for your folks, like good neighbors do.
Anyhow, I'm not arrogant enough to imagine that we all need to have the same spiritual posture and that warriors are not needed in certain places and spaces. We are not all one thing. Thank God I am not God. He can run His own world.
But as for me, as you come to me for whatever it is you come to me for, I hope to serve you as your neighbor, strengthen your courage as a neighbor, point you to Jesus as a neighbor, and basically be glad we live on the same street. I am not against you; I am beside you. (End of quote)