Dong Hyeon Jeong is the assistant professor of New Testament interpretation at Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary in Illinois. He is the author of Embracing the Nonhuman in the Gospel of Mark.
Posts By This Author
Lions, Jackals, and a Bloodied Lamb
Illustration by Jocelyn O'Leary
IN THESE UNCERTAIN times, I look for witnesses who will guide me to a more hopeful future. I do so because I cannot overcome my anxieties alone. I recognize the affective, spiritual, and communal dimensions of healing and recovery. When we heal and witness together, we are emboldened to witness the life-giving hope of the divine with the other more than ever.
In this month’s reflections, I see various sources of hope and witnessing. Beyond anthropocentrism, I see that nonhumans, particularly jackals and ostriches, are guiding us in our relationality with the divine and others (Isaiah 43:16-21). In responding to trauma, I seek the wisdom of women (“daughters of Jerusalem”) who have been down this road before (Luke 23:27-31). With their guidance, I hope for a peaceable kingdom that is unmitigated by false hopes and spiritual bypassing.
My last reflection engages Thomas the Twin (John 20:19-31) and the inauguration of Donald Trump for a second time. Here, I offer a weary posture of the discombobulated mind that is still trying to grasp the impact of his inauguration. I am trying to breathe amid a sense of despair. So, I hope that you will breathe as well, say a prayer or two, talk with a trusted friend, be with your animal companion, and relish your personal solitude. In all ways, I hope that you will find hope as you witness and become witnesses of social holiness.
Restoring Our Connective Tissues
Illustration by Jocelyn O'Leary
WE LIVE IN a ruthless world that exhausts our bodies and souls. We are constantly bombarded with messages, reels, texts, and images that set our moral compasses spinning. As seekers of a more just world, the pressure to respond overwhelms us as we have never seen before. And so, I ask: When was the last time you intentionally cared for your body and soul?
The guilt one feels when one rests is a manifestation of how oppressive systems have convinced us that to rest and breathe is contrary to the necessities and requirements of a functioning society. And yet, we must breathe because the fight for a more just world is not only outside of us. It is also in us.
This month’s lectionary readings invite us to first breathe. Then, as we breathe, we are invited to become peacemakers, witnesses of righteousness, justice-seekers, and reconciling siblings. All these invitations are heavy. They are easier said than done. Many of us have probably responded to such invitations a long time ago. Our wounds and scars tell stories of what happens when we say yes.
Scars are marks of healing from yesterday’s struggles. To breathe is to reconnect the tissues of interdependence and mutuality that sustain our work for a more just world. To breathe does not neglect the issues at hand; rather, it helps us remember that we have divine witnesses who are sustaining us here and now.