Hatred

“We cannot pray in love and live in hate and still think we are worshipping God.”

A.W. Tozer

Admittedly, I don’t know much about A.W. Tozer. I know he was a Christian pastor, a humble man of great depth, and he is often quoted with reverence as a great teacher.

Reading these words of A.W. Tozer, in this time of great national turmoil, caused me to sit up straight and think—yes, those people, those awful hateful racist people are betraying their alleged Christian values, those Pharisees aren’t worshipping God.

Brakes squealing. I cringe to think of some of the racist attitudes I have had in my long life. As much as I try not to be like those awful racists, those ugly other people, my own knee-jerk racist attitudes are like an indelible stain on my own conscience. I am humbled, embarrassed, and I pray forgiveness. I’ve been blind and there’s no excuse. I wish I had done better.

And then . . . do you see what I just did? I’m throwing stones at other racists, especially those who call themselves Christian. Do I hate them? I want to follow the adage—"love the sinner, hate the sin,” but even that involves pointing a finger at others. Should I point the finger at myself?

And honestly, I admit to big, big hate for the elected leader of this country. I have such a visceral revulsion for the man and for everything he does. If it’s wrong to hate, then no hate is excusable. Is there another word for this feeling I have?

I have no answers to any of these questions.