In his groundbreaking book, The Church’s Mission in a Polarized World, Father Aaron Wessman writes in the introduction, “Negative polarization and division in the United States are affecting all that we hold dear: our country, communities, schools, places of worship, relationships, and families. The scene is heartbreaking.”
In my bedroom, I keep a photo of my great-grandfather, Egidius Mueller, dressed in his Civil War uniform. I often look upon his image and ponder his life and his world. An immigrant from Baden-Baden, Germany, he fought for three years in the Union Army, enduring some of the bloodiest battles of the war.
This July marked the 163rd anniversary of the Battle of Gettysburg. Fought from July 1 to July 3, 1863, it left over 50,000 casualties. Ponder that for a moment. It is staggering! Green fields turned red. One can imagine the sorrow echoing across generations: “I killed my brother with malice in my heart. Hatred destroyed my family.”
Times have changed, but history continues to teach us the cost of polarization: death, destruction, and division — even among those we love.
Today, we encounter an additional kind of battlefield: social media. The forums offer only a glimpse of a person or a situation, yet we are quick to make sweeping judgments based on our own beliefs and experiences.
We might ask ourselves: when we are weighing the faults of others or assessing a situation, are we tempted to “put our thumb on the scale” (Bryan Legenfeld)? How unfair is that? And how do we feel when others do the same to us?
“There but for the grace of God go I.” This proverb calls us to humility and gratitude. It reminds us that it is only by God’s grace that we are spared from the same blindness or failure we so quickly recognize in others. It cautions us against judgment and invites us to see our shared human vulnerability.
As Glenmary Missioners, we minister in remote, rural areas of the United States. There, we — Brothers, lay coworkers, and priests — are called to proclaim, through both our lives and our words, the Good News of Jesus Christ, that he died for all and desires unity for all. We are called to see in the wounded stranger on the roadside our sister and brother; to heal, to bind wounds, to listen, and to love.
Above all, as missioners, we serve with humility. For we, too, are fallen. We, too, are blind. Recall the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector (Luke 18:9–14), a cautionary teaching of Jesus about humility, prayer, and justification before God. While the self-righteous Pharisee boasts of his good works, the humble tax collector asks for mercy. Jesus declares that it is the humble man who goes home justified.
As you read through the summer issue of The Challenge, you will notice a consistent theme across the many and varied ministries. Each, in its own quiet way, seeks to break down polarization where it serves — advocating for and visiting folks in long-term care facilities, sharing food with the hungry through blessing boxes, teaching youth the joy of serving in their community, and more.
At the core of our missionary ministry is the love that impels us to share with others what Jesus has shared with us: “I pray not only for them, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, so that they may all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I in you, that they also may be in us, that the world may believe that you sent me” (John 17:20–21).
May we be instruments of that unity in a divided nation.
