We close 2023 on a Sunday. A day to reflect.

I find myself left a bit spiritually breathless at the end of this year and realize so much of it stems currently from the conflict in Gaza. The sheer magnitude of loss has overwhelmed me at times. The grief over Israel’s leadership and their determination to wipe out an entire territory. The intense grief from those Israelis who lost family members in the horrifying attacks of Oct. 7.

All of it.

And this brings me to the resolve I want in my life moving forward.

RESOLVED: I will continue to resist the temptation to fall back into the binary choices my culture keeps trying to throw at me.

The conflict in Gaza is Exhibit A.

Part of my resolution means that my resistance also needs more effort on my part to voice my objections with grace and love.

In our binary system of today, our dualistic choices, we are supposedly forced into hating Palestinians and supporting Israel or hating Israel and supporting Palestinians. To voice anything other than 100 percent support in one direction or the other is to be, in the parlance of the progressives, a “squish”, and in the parlance of the Trumpophiles (for here on out I resolve to quit using the term “conservatives” on people who are clearly not), I would be called a “loser” or a “communist.”

Gaza and Israel are far too complicated for binary choices. The simplistic solutions are almost laughable. One I saw on social media said it wasn’t that hard for the U.S. to end the conflict in Gaza. Just quit giving them money for their military and they’ll run out of ammo in a week.

It’s “not that hard.” One act of cutting funding and it’s over. So… the war in Gaza is Joe Biden’s fault. It makes it easy.

It is not “squishy” to work to understand the history of the region, not just with Israel and Gaza but how the Arab world has treated Palestinians in the whole mess over decades of political gamesmanship. It is not “squishy” to call out progressives for being as anti-Semitic as right wing nationalists when they call out phrases that strike true fear into Jewish hearts and simply say, “Well, I don’t mean it that way.” (Along with claiming free speech just because it’s on a college campus.)

It’s not being unfaithful as a Christian to say Israel is being brutal and going far beyond the pale of “self-defense” to slaughter innocent children by the thousands.

It is worth the effort to work through all the issues and find yourself angry at both sides of the conflict.

It is worth the effort to mourn over the thousands of lives lost, and not stop weeping when I come to Palestinian names or Israeli names because I can only weep for loss on one side.

It all goes beyond just the Gaza conflict. It is to continue to see the world in more complicated themes, and also to see the world in incredible beauty and complexity, because dualistic thinking is just too… small.

The binary choices of “capitalism” or “socialism” (or whatever competing “ism” one would like to put here) aren’t enough. The binary choices of “democracy” or “anarchy” (or whatever competing ideology you would put here) aren’t enough.

The given choice of “one” OVER the “other” is just too … small.

And, above all, to try and shove all of this into some human form of philosophy or structure is just too … well… small.

What I’ve tried to bend toward is to see where the Kingdom of God is at work because it is the only thing I’ve seen to be able to transcend all these smaller arguments. I don’t read a passage of Scripture and then shove in my proof text of, “See! God is a capitalist!” or “SEE! God is a Socialist!”

I want to see a world where the Kingdom of God is my biggest filter. When I can do that, I find a complex and beautiful world. Yes. Beautiful. In all the mess we’ve created, there is still incredible beauty.

And I’m resolving to be more purposeful in communicating that.

This is why I will try to plunge more deeply into Christopher Watkins work, Biblical Critical Theory alongside Augustine’s The City of God this next year. These are reminders of the structure of the thinking I already use, but they give me wording for framework in how I want to think.

Part of my resolution to see more beauty in the world, and work through the complications of all that this world offers, is to be even more purposeful (and verbal) in my choices of where I can be found hanging out.

When I came to Alabama almost 6 years ago, I knew I would be saying good bye to my lifelong church home. I wasn’t going to cease being Pentecostal, but I wasn’t staying in that house alone anymore.

I needed to find an ancient path that rooted me in the historical church. I have found that home in the Anglican Church and that is where I serve most of the time as a vocational deacon. I need that ancient rhythm of the church year, the remembrance of feasts, the prayers prayed through the centuries, and the thoughtfulness of theological positions.

I also knew I needed to learn more from the historic Black Church. At the time, I knew the Spirit was leading me, and almost six years later I can understand the “why.” (I am a slow learner.)

The Black Church gives me context. It is how to serve with joy, to worship with gladness, and to walk on with grace in this world in a culture that didn’t want you to be seen as human in the first place. It is a context that understands the Exodus theme of Scripture, and that we are always thankful that Jesus has set us free. It is joyful perseverance. It is sweet community. It is honest conversation.

In these two places I have found “home”… for now. (I also have resolved to not wait so long in a place when things change and I need to see it sooner.)

There are sweet friendships in both places I call home. There are deep conversations. There is a refusal, for the most part, to think in binary terms of how to see the world.

Living in both these “homes” I find things are truly worth the effort.

These are my year end thoughts. I live with hope for tomorrow and 2024.