c. 2004 Religion News Service

EMERALD ISLE, N.C. _ A real estate agent pounds on her computer, looking for information about our reservations for 2005. It is a slow process, thanks to an antiquated computer program.

Do I hate her for it? Well, no. As I tell her when she apologizes, “We have driven a long way to have this conversation.” Extra seconds make no difference.

At FlipperZ, we take a booth and order “fish and chips.” Our waitress looks baffled. “Flounder and fries,” I explain. Now she gets it. Do I hate for her not knowing my terminology? No.

In fact, I make it through this entire day without hating anyone. I don’t hate whoever wrote the brochure for not being accurate about the property we are previewing. I don’t hate the receptionist at a retreat center for telling us not to look inside rooms that others are using. I don’t hate the incessant wind for chilling my beach walk.

No hatred is required. And these are conditions that actually get in my way. They steal my time, convenience, free movement, comfort. But why hate? Why offload my impatience by blaming and despising? Why ruin my day by allowing external conditions to crowd out higher purposes?

These are hate-filled times in America. More so than any that I can recall. I tend to blame right-wing Christians, because I am occasionally the object of their hatred, as are people and situations that I know to be decent. But I can tell from their e-mails and articles that they feel hated themselves. Even if you discount the victim-role whining that is common in Christian discourse, many people feel loathed.

This hatred arises from conditions that don’t actually get in our way. Our respective beliefs are just that: beliefs, ideas, theories, musings, and not physical obstacles or harm. When we hate over sexuality, political opinions, lifestyle preferences, Bible interpretation, values and ideology, we fixate on abstractions and fundamentally private matters and give them power to impair our lives.

To justify our hatred, we claim to be fighting God’s battle. We claim to be “hating the sin, not the sinner,” as if that meant something. We claim to be preserving ultimate values, like “Christian orthodoxy” or “family,” as if those were fragile treasures always at risk of being subverted by someone else’s ideas.

In fact, we are just hating. We are allowing externals to crowd out higher purposes. We are allowing abstractions and unseen conditions to ruin our days. We are allowing hatred to corrode our souls and turn our hearts to stone. When we do it in Jesus’ name and feel justified, we make God small and push God away, so that we feel more alone than ever, with nothing but the fiery companionship of fellow-haters to comfort us.

Why do we hate? I think that is the question we must address. At some point, we should study the pathology of hatred. But in the religious community, we need to start by looking inward, each into our own heart. Why do we allow someone else’s belief to have that much power over our own faith? Why do we feel endangered by some stranger’s lifestyle choices? Why do we find energy and meaning in mobilizing to deny someone else their freedom? Why do we sit in church and learn to glare, not to glorify? Why do we think controlling others will make our own lives better?

It isn’t difficult to understand the fomenters and manipulators of hatred. Theirs is a time-honored way to gain power and wealth. But why do we go along? This toxic stew has nothing to do with faith.

I think we need to set aside our dueling Scriptures, doctrines, clever slogans and conspiracy theories. Before we sink this commonwealth that we all love dearly, we must examine our need to hate and to feel hated. God never handed us this scorpion.

MO/PH END RNS

(Tom Ehrich is a writer and computer consultant, managing large-scale database implementations. An Episcopal priest, he lives in Durham, N.C. Visit his Web site at http://www.onajourney.org.)