I’ve been kind of preoccupied for a couple of weeks by a tense situation with our neighbors. Actually, I’m not going to call them my neighbors. Let’s say I’ve had a series of altercations with the people that live next door to us. I will spare the details, but the short of it is that we were unable to come to an agreement regarding a non-compliant structure that they put up. I hate confrontation, but the hazards to our property and personal safety that were being created by what they were doing demanded that I speak up.
Things got really tense and we were unable to come to any agreement. They could not see things my way at all, and I don’t see things their way. I finally had to acknowledge that we were at an impasse and we would have to leave it to the law to decide what would happen. Which it did. Thankfully there are some good laws on the books that protect persons and property. It’s nice to have the law on your side and to be able to lean into it sometimes.
I find few things more frustrating than a communication breakdown. I’m a sensitive guy and I want so bad to connect with people and to help people that it is painful whenever I am forced to admit that someone is closed to me. I tend to spend way too long striving with someone who doesn’t see things my way and I don’t pay enough attention to how stressful the situation is getting. I’m going to try to be kinder to my heart, and the other persons, by not allowing the stress to build so high before excusing myself in the future.
I’ve known for a long time that separations from other people are sometimes a necessity. But I don’t know these people who live next door to us at all and they don’t know us at all. We had basically zero relationship going into this situation because they are new to the area and pretty much don’t talk to anyone in the neighborhood at all. I didn’t understand why they became so offended so quickly.
I finally got a clue when they took a parting shot about our “Shabbat Shalom” banner at the end of our last encounter. They had come over and knocked on our door. The husband was mad and started insulting me, calling me “an idiot”. Rebekah was there that time and we both immediately told them they had to leave. They are pastors at a Sunday church and I guess they didn’t find that very “Christian” of us.
The “Shabbat Shalom” banner is actually our daughter Hadassah’s. Rebekah got it for her to add to her prep day chores, as she loves to get the house ready for Shabbat on Friday. The banner hangs on a metal stand that we put out in our yard every Erev Shabbat. Apparently these people who live next door are offended that we claim to be believers because we are such a ‘poor representation.’
I realized that they don’t understand the nature of “Shalom”.
In their Christian world-view of peace, love, unconditional grace, and the cotton-candy “Jesus”, they probably think we are putting the banner out to “witness” to our neighbors and to wish everyone a feeling of sublime peace and well-being. In actuality, the banner is an act of war.
In her article, The Gospel of Shalom, Renalee Colon writes that, “The word meaning peace, wholeness, wellness, and completeness [Shalom] tells us that peace comes when we: "destroy" the authority that causes chaos."
Our Shabbat Shalom banner is not there to bring peace to the neighborhood, it is there to protect our borders during Shabbat. It is not there as a ‘Christian witness.’ It is there to witness to the fact that we have been set apart and to proclaim “Shalom” over our own household.
One of our jobs is to destroy the authors of chaos. This is what brings in shalom. This definition and our mindset are so at odds with the world around us that I guess it should be no surprise when people are offended by us for no apparent reason.
As we enter the season of Purim, I think that the Purim story is a good reminder that it is not a new thing for Yah’s chosen people to be hated for no apparent reason and that people are going to hate us even though they don’t know us. Many in Persia wanted to kill the Jews. And though YHVH turned the plans of the evildoers back on themselves, the Jews had to fight for their lives. In the end they were able to destroy thousands of their enemies. It was necessary, but it probably didn’t feel good.
I recently listened to an interview with a WWII vet who was on the ground during the Normandy invasion. He related the details of getting into close combat with some Germans. He was the one who survived. He said, “It didn’t feel good. It made me sick. But it was either them or me.”
We are in a time of separation. This is what it means to be set apart. This is what it means to bring Shalom.
Blessed be the journey,
Isaac