Make Reasonable Boundaries Welcome Again

If you’re wondering why I haven’t blogged about the present conflict in the Middle East, there are a number of reasons: For one thing, I’m smart enough to know what I don’t know. Judging by my news feed, apparently everyone and their mothers became subject matter experts in foreign affairs overnight. And let’s be honest; no one really needs me to add my under-informed opinion to the noise.

For another, I get my head bitten off enough as it is by virtue of my hot takes on transactivism and the demonic rot known as “Christian” patriarchy. I’ve got to ration out the number of times I choose to lay my head on the proverbial chopping block in the public sphere. This morning, someone, perceiving my sympathy for Israel, sent me a grotesquely racist caricature of a Jewish man devouring the intestines of Uncle Sam. Earlier this week, a longtime Facebook friend ended up on my block list after he repeatedly flooded my comments section with accusations of genocide and barbarism. It was a bit much.

Here’s what I do know. I know my prayers are with Israel AND with all the innocent lives on either side of this conflict. I know that Replacement Theology/Supercessionism is poison that’s been used to justify egregious amounts of anti-Semitism both inside and outside the church. And I know that if I had to choose to send one of my own children to live under the leadership of either Israel or Hamas, I would choose the side that doesn’t routinely murder gay people, brutalize women, normalize polygamy, or celebrate the rape and torture of innocent civilians. But that’s just me. Does this mean I think Israel can do no wrong? Of course not. But the choice, for me, is not a difficult one.

And I’ve spent the better part of the last week trying to rid myself of the images seared into my brain by my choice to watch some of the video footage of the Hamas attack on the music festival. I can’t stop thinking of the photos of the blood-soaked baby bedding or that poor, traumatized teen girl being yanked around by the hair and shoved into the back of a jeep, the butt of her sweatpants covered in the blood of her apparent sodomy wounds. I can’t stop thinking of the crowds of men gathered around in major cities across the world (including in my own country) physically laughing and cheering at the footage of brutalized women.

And I’ve got to tell you, for the first time since moving to Idaho, I experienced a deep bone gladness to be living in a state with such an overwhelming appreciation for the 2nd amendment.

I don’t usually think this way. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always been committed to gun rights, and I tend to inadvertently surround myself with gun people, but I’ve done so with a bit of a begrudging spirit, as I tend to associate them with conspiracy theories, InfoWars, and graceless talking points that make things worse overall for conservatives. And I maintain that there really are way too many gun people who salivate over the prospect of revolution when, in fact, it should horrify them.

But in this context? The context of thousands of monstrous men in close proximity who think it’s funny to laugh at the bodies of raped and sodomized women? Then God help me, I want to be surrounded by as many gun nuts who are ready to fight as I possibly can. I want to be with people who say, “Not today, Satan. Not on my watch.” I want to be with people who don’t have a difficult time discerning that beheading babies and burning people alive is a degree of evil that can’t be permitted to stand. If that makes me a bad or an ignorant person, so be it.

But I’m sick to death of this rhetoric that insists on convincing the wide world that the only way to love like Jesus is to sing Kumbaya, weave daisy chains, open our borders indiscriminately, and play the pacifistic doormat.

It’s triggering to me in a way that I’m not sure I can describe, as someone who’s been routinely punished for setting boundaries around my own well-being. As a child, my abuser would cry crocodile tears if I did not cheerfully accept his advances. At age 5, I had already learned that the emotional stability of a grown man was my responsibility. “Don’t you love me anymore?” he used to cry. So I would cheer him up. The price for being a nice person in his economy? My boundaries.

I experienced a similar dilemma with my (now) ex-husband. I spent seven years enduring his raging porn addiction, repeated infidelities, and terrifying violent outbursts because I believed that forbearance was the requirement of love. Once again, no boundaries allowed.

When I got fired by the YMCA for opposing their decision to allow men in the girls’ locker rooms, I heard that same refrain: “If you don’t compromise your boundaries, you’re a hateful bigot.”

And I hear the same thing almost every time I try to facilitate a meaningful discussion about reasonable immigration policies. “If you cared the way Jesus cared, you would….”

But something about saturating myself in that video footage last week flipped a switch in me. Because there’s nothing truly loving about maintaining a passive response to abject evil. What does “pray for a ceasefire” really mean if it allows the monsters of Hamas to retain their power? Why do I have to be okay with the knowledge that every major city in America is flooded with Hamas supporters we were bullied into embracing in the name of Christ-like love for immigrants?

The belief that it’s “unChristian” to protect yourself and others is a lie. While it’s true that in faith circles, we are often taught to “turn the other cheek,” and welcome strangers and love self-sacrificially, if we really analyze Jesus’ way of being, we see that He was an incredibly boundaried man: He retreated to be alone with God, napped when He was tired, refused to help people who weren’t willing to help themselves (rich young ruler, etc), and said “no” to plans and requests that did not align with His mission.

You do not need to allow others to walk all over you or continually harm you. To do so would be to enable sin. It’s okay to say “no” to things and people that drain you of the energy you need to live a functional, productive life.

The Bible says, “Love always protects.” It also says, “Above all, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.” These are strong advocations for healthy boundaries, which are a form of love for both self and others.

Make reasonable boundaries welcome again.