Mandorla.

We have just witnessed the conclusion to a bitter political struggle in the 2020 presidential election, and the aftershocks keep rolling. In my conversations and observations this year, almost no one felt ambivalent on the outcome: Whichever party people folks supported, they felt super strong about it. One candidate was definitely right; the other was definitely wrong. And I feel that personally too—the emotional hooks are strong!

I explored our all-too-human tendency toward tribalism is my September 25 blog post, and this post is a continuation of that theme. Somehow as Christ-followers, we must find a way to hold our personal beliefs with conviction while simultaneously welcoming those with opposite convictions in a spirit of authentic love, without feeling threatened or alienated. It’s a tall order sometimes.

I recently became acquainted with an ancient Christian symbol, the mandorla, the Italian word for “almond.” It represents the shape formed in the intersection between two circles, often known as a Venn diagram. Each circle represents one perspective, one “truth,” one belief system, one tribe…that lies in opposition to the other circle. The circles themselves appear to be mutually exclusive in theory, but in practice they overlap. Let’s look at some examples…

The first is where we started today: our two dominant political parties. While they have obvious differences in platforms, both are anchored in the democratic process and the rule of law. Another example is theological: sovereignty and free will. Just as the political divide is represented by two parties and ideological systems, so this theological divide is represented by Calvinism and Armenianism. Yet both systems are anchored in the trinitarian God of the scriptures. Many more mandorlas exist sociologically: urban and rural, traditional and contemporary worship, white and black ethnicities, introversion and extraversion…the list is endless.

But there’s a reason that the mandorla came to be associated with Christian iconography, and the reason is revolutionary! Because the Kingdom of God shows up incarnationally in the intersection of these polarities. Jesus himself defined the intersection of humanity and divinity and represented the overlap between heaven and earth. As followers and representatives of Christ, we too live in the mandorla, occupying that same space between two worlds and seeking their full integration. We could say that the gospel, the good news, is graphically represented by the mandorla: where heaven penetrates earth… first through the presence of Jesus and subsequently in our presence.

So what does this mean for the community of faith? Everything!

Often Christians wind up being as polarized as the rest of the world—we’re often known more for what we’re against than what we’re for. When that happens (as our tribal instincts often determine), we lose our message and cease to carry the redemptive presence of Christ in this world. We move outside the almond of intersection and over-identify with one or another of these human systems. If we are to remain in the mandorla and champion the Kingdom of God, then the church must advocate for the overlap and welcome those who see the world in diametrically opposite ways from us.

I don’t know about you, but I find the concept compelling but the implementation difficult. Whether we’re talking about presidents or theologies or worship…or heck, even what kind of wine is better, I find that my tendency is to stake out my opinion on one side or the other. And sometimes even to demonize the other side, even if I hold those feelings inside. But I want more for myself, and I want more for the community of faith: My hope is that we can enter into the spirit of Christ and not only put up with our differences but maybe even begin to delight in the sheer spectrum of diversity represented among those who bear his Name in the world. Again, it’s a tall order, but how can we settle for less?

My practical intention is to try to articulate this vision more frequently and then try to create spaces where we can invite the conversation with curiosity and respect—asking questions to better understand, listening to the heart behind the words, and then being willing to offer our perspectives without being attached to other people’s agreement. Maybe we’ll learn to love better and more broadly—not just those who look and sound and act like us.

Here’s how Jesus put it…

If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect. (Matt. 5:46-48)

 Don’t get thrown by the word “perfect.” The Greek word teleios carries the sense of being complete or whole. The implication is that if we can only enjoy our own tribe of people, then we’re no different than the rest of the world. But the love of God’s kingdom is much more expansive and inclusive than that: It requires a fully-orbed, all-encompassing love that welcomes the “other” within the embrace of loving presence. It recognizes that we are ultimately all of a single tribe called humanity. God didn’t come to seek and save just one side of our tribal polarities; God came for us all! And if we want to represent God’s heart in the world, we have to learn to expand our hearts to match the divine intent. This is a stretch for all of us, so let’s reach for that together and encourage our small steps in that direction!

ThriveTip

Look for someone who carries an opposite view from you on something. Take some time to inquire and explore why it’s important to them…without criticizing or championing your view. Be led by your curiosity: Ask, listen, and maybe reflect back what you’re hearing for confirmation. “Practice the presence” of another person with no other agenda than to understand and love.

Takeaway

Live in the Overlap.