"There's a difference," I heard a wise man say, "between polarizing a situation and demonizing the other." In public life, he insisted, we sometimes polarize a situation in order to clarify interests and intentions. We hope to make transparent the motivations of parties involved. In a fight for affordable housing, for example, we polarize a situation in order to see who's interested primarily in affordable housing, in housing for working people, and who's simply interested in property values or the status quo or keeping 'immigrants' out of the neighborhood. Maybe our interests are a complicated mix of the two. Transparency makes it possible to see the mix and make a choice for the common good. And transparency makes it easier to organize working people and families around their interests and needs. Sometimes we have to polarize a situation, strategically and thoughtfully, in order to get to that kind of clarity and commitment.
But that same wise man was quick to remind us that "there's a difference between polarizing a situation and demonizing the other." While we polarize a situation with the common good in mind and human decency too, we demonize the other when we objectify and stigmatize the perceived adversary. A legitimate end is corrupted by suspect and dangerous means. Even more, to demonize an opponent in this way is to perpetuate the very spirit of division and suspicion we seek to overcome. That kind of politics is a dead-end. Worse.
Now this is hard, hard work. And I'm not always sure where the line is - where polarization becomes demonization. Still, I am convinced that people of faith, people of good will, people committed to justice, have to pay attention to the danger. We have to. This is not to dissuade us from important political work, quite the opposite. We need the kind of discipline and heart that make it possible to reflect on our praxis, to pray on our prophetic task, to examine our motivations - so that we are vigilant in pursuing the common good with 'agape' (love) and big-hearted compassion. All this takes a great deal of political sophistication and spiritual purpose. Churches and other institutions become key centers of learning, practice and reflection.
There's that odd line Jesus tosses around about "coming to bring not peace, but a sword." I kind of wonder if this isn't what he has in mind. He is clearly committed to nonviolence, but he understands the critical importance of polarizing situations in order to clarify interests and choices. I remember how he stands by a woman accused of adultery and insists the priests and pastors without sin should fire away. There are all kinds of stones around. Plenty to choose from. "Fire away." It turns out, of course, they're less interested in the kingdom of God than they are in moral superiority and patriarchal power. Jesus helps expose that. Not to humiliate or demonize. But to save a life and heal a wound. And the priests and pastors, reminded of their own sin, scatter into the city to consider things anew.
I guess I want to say that I need a whole mess of humility to do this kind of work. Whether it's the work that stirs consciousness around sexual orientation and inclusion within the church. Whether it's the work that resists oppression, occupation and insanity in the Holy Land. Whether it's the work of pushing for affordable housing and comprehensive health care reform in this country. Pursuing the common good requires some hard choices and some polarizing strategies at times. But it must not, it cannot make me proud or mean.