It is estimated that nearly a million Tutsis were systematically extirpated in Rwanda by the Hutu in the 1990s.  300,000 of those being children.  Machetes and hand grenades were the weapons of choice.  On children.  All this in a country that was considered to be the most successful mission field for Christians in the 1950s.  How could a people, so committed to the well-being of their spirits, have done so much evil?

Of course, this isn’t an isolated incident in the 20th century.  Apartheid South Africa and Jim Crow in the American South were largely supported by communities at least outwardly dedicated to paying attention to their spirits.

So what happened?  And by that I mean, what happens?

I would argue that our brokenness doesn’t just stem from failing to pay attention to the spirit-ness undergirding our soil, but also from failing to pay attention to the soil connected to our spirit.

People are capable of terrible things when they separate the soil from their spirit.

When people make the spiritual about some other place and some other time detached from this soiled place and this soiled time, all sorts of things seem acceptable.  If we are “chosen” or “in” or “saved” to detach from this soiled place, then the rest can be simply “left behind”.  Other people become obstacles to take from or wall out. The earth, too, becomes something to strip from rather than care for.

If we see the fostering of our spirit as separate from our soil—our bodies, our jobs, our politics, our neighbors, our earth—we are truly capable of justifying terrible things.

Which is why I don’t take it lightly when someone as influential as Jerry Falwell, Jr. says this: “In the heavenly kingdom the responsibility is to treat others as you’d like to be treated. In the earthly kingdom, the responsibility is to choose leaders who will do what’s best for your country.”

He has separated the soil from his spirit.

I was in a meeting once with a group of leaders that were trying to bring God’s goodness to the people of Haiti.  There was an ugly accusation against a Haitian national that led to a broken relationship.  I asked if forgiveness was possible, and this person responded with, “I forgive him, but that doesn’t mean I’m ever going to have lunch with him.”

Well, actually, yes it does.  

He had separated the soil from his spirit.

In our current community of faith, we have been paying attention to how we can cultivate our spirits through the practice of slowness.  We sing songs about it.  We talk about it.  We seek the Spirit’s guidance with it.  We are coming to believe that our spirits are best nurtured when we slow down. (Which might make a good series of blog posts, don’t you think?)

Following one of these gatherings, as we were anxious to get home, I noticed my daughter lagging behind.  I found her in my office preparing to write something on my white board.  I told her to come, and she started writing on the white board instead. Didn’t she know we were in a hurry? I barged in, raised my voice, took hold of her arm…and was suddenly halted by what she had written: 

“I Love You :).”

My daughter knew.

I had separated the soil from my spirit.

Over and over again in the ancient Hebrew and Greek Scriptures, we are told that not only did the One create us spirit and soil, but also that the One wants to reconcile, reconnect, reintegrate that spirit and soil in us—and in our world!—that we have so carelessly rent apart.

The One is putting it all back together and inviting us to join in.  Which we do every time we care for our bodies, care for our family, care for our neighbor, care for the earth.  Which we do every time we refuse to separate our spirit-ness from the votes that we cast, the relationships that we forge, the choices that we make that impact the spirit and soil of others.

David Brooks said this of Dorothy Day and the Catholic worker movement (also of the 20th century):

“We sometimes think of saints, or of people who are living like saints, as being ethereal, living in a higher spiritual realm.  But often enough they live in an even less ethereal way than the rest of us.  They are more fully of this earth, more fully engaged in the dirty, practical problems of the people around them.” 

It is essential that we never forget that 

there is a soil-ness to our spirit.

We ignore this to everyone’s harm.