In
my previous post, I suggested that conflict is both an inevitable and a necessary
part of the world we live in. I also suggested that the experience of conflict
has to do with our being made in the
likeness of a good God.
The
earliest human experiences, as told in the Bible, are experiences of conflict
and of learning to engage with conflict in ways that bring forth life. There is
the conflict of resting from work when there is so much work to be done. There
is the navigating of the conflicts of tending a garden: not enough water, and
plants cannot grow; too much water, and plants cannot grow: water must be
channelled; plants, too, must be cultivated, not left to overrun, to encroach
on others. There is the conflict resulting from being different from the other
animals and needing to find a corresponding companion. In engaging conflict, the
human beings are participating in the life of all creation, and in the life of
God.
A
new character finds voice in this unfolding story, a character who calls into
question something God has (not) said. What follows is often considered to be
the root cause of conflict, between male and female, between humanity and the
planet. But we might read it as another
opportunity to engage with conflict (conflict = difference + tension), and one that reveals to us our ability
(perhaps, propensity) to engage with conflict badly, with negative consequences.
The
serpent brings a bad report, calls God’s character into disrepute, suggesting
that God has acted in a particular way out of selfish and unloving motives,
perhaps out of fear. God is not present to be asked and to offer clarification,
in order that a greater understanding be reached. Initially, Eve challenges the
serpent’s report (she adds to God’s words to the man, and much has been
speculated as to why and whether it matters or not), but ultimately a series of
related conflicts –
abundance
/ perceived lack
perceived
food / perceived wastage
delighting
in / consuming
wisdom
/ knowledge –
are
resolved badly. Compounding the situation, attempted physical withdrawal from
the situation, defensive and aggressive survival strategies are all employed,
drawing relationship apart.
Complex
consequences are set in motion – complex not least because each response to
every conflict has the potential to draw us further apart and the potential to
draw us closer together; complex also because conflict is inevitable, and is
the (very) raw material for a good end, which will be brought to fruition
through hard work and perseverance.
From
here on in, throughout the Bible, we see this conflict - reconciliation played out: on the micro-level of the
relationship between brothers; to the macro-level of relationships between
nations; to the meta-level of the relationship between all creation and God.
The goal is not a return to a fresh start in an unspoiled garden, but something
altogether greater. It is also ongoing.
Our conflicts are not a distraction
from entering-into the life, the love, of God. They are the very places of
transformation where it becomes possible to do so.
They are the places of our passing from death into life. The labour pains of
something new, something longed-for but as-yet unknown, un-named. Every
conflict is a kairos moment, where
the kingdom of heaven has come near, if we are willing to repent (to change our
perspective) and believe (to live out a different way of being).
How,
then, can the abundance of conflicting hopes and dreams and needs and visions
and desires and preferred futures and painful pasts and frustrated ‘now’s be
engaged with graciously, lovingly, for
the transformation of us all?
That
is what we are called to, as human beings. That
is what we are called to live out, as the Church.