Resistance of polarized view of the world

There is a subtle and profound movement underway, globally. ISIS wants to resurrect a mindset and mythology in which the world is divided into two camps: Muslim and Christian. Perhaps they want to do so, because the last time they knew who they were and the world made sense to them was within a configuration that looked like that. They are inviting the whole world to return to that simplistic and primitive ordering of reality. Ironically, there are those in our own society that mirror this desire, almost perfectly – and would be quite content to revert to that way of thinking as well.

ISIS can be compared to someone who brings the negative end of a magnet into proximity with a pile of metal shavings in order to consolidate them into a positively charged charged group in opposition to itself. 

I, myself, am a Christian (in the interest of full disclosure), yet am wholly intent on resisting having my world shaped by the definitions of these who want to assemble my mindset and world in this polarized way. If I were living during the Middle Ages, I might have a different response. As tempting as it is, though, to raise the flag of Christendom, and to assemble our armies under that banner, I believe that to do so, at this point in history, would be in defiance of the Spirit. Instead, it would be merely another version of giving into "the flesh" – of giving into that which is convenient and makes sense from the level of baser instincts. It would not be an unambiguous exhibition of virtue or strength. Rather, strength requires nonconformity when presented with this tempting pattern. I resist a Christian banner, not out of opposition to Christ but out of a desire to be open to him.

Those who are eager to respond as a mirror image to Islamic extremism may want to ask themselves how it is that they are letting their own cultural and theological agenda be determined by those with whom they claim to differ so radically.

One way of seeing ISIS is to think of them as a bully who enters a weight room, benches 300 pounds, and dares anyone to equal it. One version of defying this bully is to believe we must top that 300 pounds. Another version is to refuse the challenge, saying, "I refuse to accept that task as the measure of what is meaningful." I propose that this latter approach is more disturbing and unsettling to the bully than the former – and more affirming of what constitutes our true greatness and potential. It forces us to rely on our higher instincts; but it's time, in our humanity, that we insist on relying on those, anyway. We are smart enough, in our better moments, to figure out ways of thwarting ISIS – including halting beheadings – without becoming barbarians, ourselves. Let's have patience to find those ways.