Whenever a belief that formerly seemed self-evident and true has lost its place, when it is transcended by newer thought, only then does it make its most absolute and aggressive claims to power. It is like a mortally wounded bear. It is dying, but it will not flee or be pacified. It will fight with renewed ferocity.
In the Middle Ages, the Christian public simply accepted that the Scriptures were literally true, and Catholic Christians trusted that God guarded the church's doctrine.
By 1870, following the age of reason and the rise of the scientific method, the educated public had accepted evolution as a fact and recognized that no human being is infallible. Only then did the Niagara Bible Conferences of 1878-1897 find it necessary to articulate the tenets of what would become Christian fundamentalism. The First Vatican Council of 1869-70 found it necessary to assert that the Pope is infallible when speaking ex cathedra. When old beliefs are mortally wounded, they assert their absolute claims.
That idea may be a lens for the present moment. It wasn't too long ago in our history when it was accepted that white people have a place of special leadership and power in this nation. Especially heterosexual male white people. And wealthy white people.
We can be grateful to those white landowners who risked so much to establish the foundations of these United States. But they weren't infallible. And their founding documents had flaws.
Today we recognize that their original intuition that "all men are created equal" is better framed as "all people are created equal." We are recognizing a fuller expression of inalienable rights that includes and empowers women, as well as people of color, various religious beliefs, sexual orientations and economic conditions -- people not necessarily included in our original vision.
Change is hard. Especially for the group accustomed to having power. It is hard to share power. It's harder to surrender privilege and entitlement. Especially when those who used to be "less than" you now claim that power.
I am a straight, white male born in 1952. I inherited immense unearned privilege. The people who ran everything were people who looked like me.
In my childhood, most of the mothers were housewives, or secretaries and clerks. Some were teachers or nurses. Schools, public facilities and neighborhoods were segregated by race. And I never knew anyone who was gay.
That world is gone. For me it started in fifth grade when a young black man wanted to go to the university in my home town. It took the National Guard, federal marshals and U.S. Army troops to safely enroll and protect him. I believed he should be able to go to school, and I lost a few friends over that. Over time I've made a lot more friends from every race imaginable, and have been deeply blessed.
In 1977 I met the first gay person who would patiently answer every stupid question a straight, Southern boy like me could ask. I remember the weekend he left to attend the 50th anniversary celebration of a gay couple. I was married only two years, and I saw a 50th anniversary as a personal goal. A moral goal. Something shifted in me. In the subsequent 43 years I have been blessed with numerous LGBTQ+ friends and loving couples. Friends that I never could have known in that old world.
I'm so happy in this new world. It fits my religion. I believe every human being is created in the image of God. I believe that we are to love one another. That works well in this new world.
But it's hard for lots of us white folks. So much has changed. A whole world – the way it "always was" – is mortally threatened. Some are mad. Some are reacting extremely.
They are good people. They've just had their world pulled out from under them. Mostly by people who aren't very much like them. It's hard when the world you were secure and comfortable in seems to turn on you.
When what everyone once knew as true loses its place and power, it's dangerous for a while, like a mortally wounded bear. We do need to protect one another from their overreactions. But give them space and time. Their world is dying. Be generous.
Today in my home town, anyone can go into a restaurant. Gay and interracial couples walk safely hand in hand. Sure, we've got a long way to go. But it is a different world. A better world.