Robert Reich, a former Secretary of Labor in the United States (1993-1997), posted on Facebook this past Monday, encouraging people to practice decency, integrity, courage and kindness whenever we can, and to celebrate these values wherever we see them. “We can maintain decency in the time of monsters,” he writes. “We must. It is the first step in resisting the monsters, and the prerequisite for overpowering them.”
My husband Tim commented on the post saying,
I really appreciate this. However, if we are going to celebrate integrity and decency, we cannot call anyone a monster. I am a huge critic of Trump and Musk and Vance— they are making monstrous and harmful choices. But to call them monsters is joining them in the indecency of dehumanizing people. We have to resist the temptation to stoop to their level.
Tim’s words echo a deep commitment he and I both have to the refusal to demonize any person. That shift from the adjective, monstrous, to the noun, monster, is significant. Tim and I were taught (and we have taught our children) that every person is a person. As Mister Rogers said at the end of an episode wherein he had visited a Special Olympics practice session: “We’re all persons. You’re a person. Your mom and dad are persons. If you have a sister or a brother, they’re persons. Your friend is a person. Each person in the Special Olympics is a person. Each person in the world is a person.”
Each person is a person, capable of both good and evil – which is humbling to think about as we look at our own lives and challenging to grasp as we consider the lives of those behaving monstrously. As Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn said, “If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being.”
Paul also tells us in Ephesians 6 that “our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms” (v. 12).
The powers of this dark world and the spiritual forces of evil are at work. I believe they are at work in and through the actions of the current administration. But I am not willing to call them monsters. In other words, I agree with Tim.
Most others who follow Robert Reich on Facebook did not agree with Tim. At all. Commenter after commenter “respectfully disagreed.” Trump, Vance, and Musk, must be called monsters in order to accurately narrate what is happening. In fact, Tim’s refusal to call them monsters meant to some commenters that Tim was an enabler – not unlike a Nazi sympathizer.
Perhaps some of you disagree with Tim as well. Fair enough. This is a conversation we need to have. Because words matter (as new regular Reformed Journal blogger, Marilyn McEntyre, has helped us see – and will continue to help us see – again and again). Words create worlds, and violence in language is a precursor to all kinds of other violence.
Calling people monsters is also reductionistic. As my friend, Thyra Van Keeken wrote many years ago in an article that has stuck with me, “I think it’s more complicated than that.” To call someone a monster in their essence dismisses the complexity of the way evil has taken hold in them. It decomplexifies the relationship between the Imago Dei and the depravity of a person. Trump is a monster? Well, I think it’s more complicated than that.
In 1983, M. Scott Peck wrote the book, People of the Lie: the Hope for Healing Human Evil. I’ve paged through my copy this week, and also appreciated this summary. There were people that Peck encountered in his years and years of psychotherapy who were, what he would call, evil. They were committed to evil at the core of their being. Their evil was demonstrated by their inability to see their own faults or to grow spiritually, their scapegoating and dehumanization of others, and their patterns of destructive behavior. “Evil … is that force, residing either inside or outside of human beings, that seeks to kill life or liveliness” (p. 43).
According to Peck, there are people who not only do evil things, but in whom evil has taken up residence. But they are still people. They are “of the lie,” but they are people of the lie.
The category – People of the Lie – is helpful. It shows that the dividing line between good and evil doesn’t cut through everyone’s hearts in the same way. For some, every inclination of their thoughts is only evil all the time (Genesis 6:5). But equating people with the dark forces – relegating them beyond the line to the land of evil – both paves the way to violence and reduces our understanding of the complexity of human sinfulness.
It also eliminates the possibility of (or hope for) transformation.
On that point, a story (from an article that you should definitely read in full: The Mister Rogers No One Saw, by Jeanne Marie Laskas):
Fred Rogers was socially progressive in many ways, but was very careful not to engage publicly in politics. However in 1992, as a favour to a friend, he attended a campaign fundraiser for George H.W. Bush. Everything about the way Fred showed up in the space made it clear how uncomfortable he was as a pacifist and a critic of Bush’s war in the Persian Gulf. He did not want to be there. But there he was.
When he got up to the podium to speak, he told a story about a child drawing a picture of God and then he prayed (in a way that reminds me now of the Reverend Marianne Budde’s homily at the National Service of Prayer). He prayed that people would listen to the cries of despair in America and “turn those cries into rays of hope.”
But almost before he was done speaking, Fred darted off the stage and left the building. His companions “found him outside, next to an oak tree, motionless and relaxed.” (Oh, that is so Fred.)
What he later said to Jeanne Marie (the author of the article) helps us to see the inner conflict he experienced in that moment on the stage. He did not want to be seen as being publicly supportive of a politician whose actions he viewed as harmful. And he did not see it as his role to call the president out.
I wasn’t about to participate in any fund-raising or anything else. But at the same time I don’t want to be an accuser. Other people may be accusers if they want to; that may be their job. I really want to be an advocate for whatever I find is healthy or good. I think people don’t change very much when all they have is a finger pointed at them. I think the only way people change is in relation to somebody who loves them.
Two things I would like to note here:
First of all, Fred leaves room for the accusers. There are many parts to the one body that will work toward healing the wounds that this administration is inflicting. Some of those parts will be those who call out and accuse. “That may be their job.” Perhaps it is even the job of some to use the language of ‘monster’ (though I am skeptical that this will have the hoped-for impact). But there is room for it, is there not? The imprecatory psalmists make room (e.g., Ps 109). One could argue that Jesus makes room when he looks at Peter and says, “Get behind me, Satan! You do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns!” (Mark 8:33) There is room to accuse. [And there is certainly room for those who need to stay far away from the Person of the Lie, and to focus all their love on the people the Person is harming.]
But second, and finally, Fred leaves room for hope. He has hope that people who do monstrous things might be transformed when “in relation to somebody who loves them.”
M. Scott Peck would agree. After writing an entire book about evil, he arrives in the final few pages at the hope for healing. And what is the hope? The hope is love. (Read: Love. Not blind worship. Love.)
This is so simple-sounding that one is compelled to wonder why it is not a more obvious truth. The fact is, simple-sounding though it may be, the methodology of love is so difficult in practice that we shy away from its usage. At first glance it even appears impossible. How is it possible to love people who are evil? Yet that is precisely what I am saying we must do. (p. 267)
As I prepared to publish this blog, I wondered if I should abandon it. As ‘right’ as it is to honor the Imago Dei in all people (even People of the Lie), I wondered if this was the wrong time to call us to that work. Loving those who are responsible for so much harm is infinitely complicated, and quite likely impossible. There is a part of me that wants to disagree with Tim. However, a part of me continues to believe that using dehumanizing terms (nouns instead of adjectives) is an attempt to overcome evil with evil. And that doesn’t work.
And so, in the midst of this internal conflict, I will admit my inability to love and will entrust the loving to the One who is Embodied Love. One Day, the People of the Lie will meet face to face the Person of Truth and Goodness and Beauty. Whatever conversations that need to happen will happen.
And somehow… all things – all persons – will be made new.
*Header Photo by Anton Shuvalov on Unsplash
32 Responses
Preach it.
This is such a thoughtful and necessary conversation. Thank you, Heidi! It is becoming very difficult, though. I need to ration my exposure to daily news, blogs, and even certain friends and churches!
I must admit that my mind takes me down the “yes but…” road. You are right, I believe, about “monsters,” yet there is a progression and conditioning to sin and narcissism that removes conscience and dulls the consciences of observers, including Christians. The audacity threshold continues to rise! The title Christian itself must now be differentiated and qualified. ” not one of those kind of Christians.” I must confess my own struggle here.
Richard Rohr correctly reminds us “the best condemnation of the bad is the practice of the good.”
Last night we attended a celebration of Black History Month put on by a local Christian school. It was framed as a celebration, perhaps a declaration, but not an obligation and certainly not a confrontation. This school and its leaders have been on an intentional pathway of assertive celebration and inclusion for close to 2 decades. It was joyful, respectful, educational, and powerful, worshipful, in fact. This was constructive engagement on display. No lecturing or shaming.
We Christians (or perhaps Christ-followers) own the template: Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, self-control.
Thanks again for the reminder. It is difficult to discern how not to be silent.
Thank you, RZ. I am struggling with you. Right there with you. I love the constructive engagement story you tell. Life driving out death.
So good, so important, so helpful, Heidi. Thanks.
Thank you Pastor Heidi, this is very relevant in these times. This message is very much needed right now.
Thank you for this thought-provoking piece. It challenges me. But …in a democracy, we all share some responsibility for the nation’s policies and actions. Given that, isn’t it essential to call a lie what it is – a lie? Isn’t it important to recognize the person telling those lies as a liar? When a lie is used to justify a policy with potentially devastating consequences such as claiming, “Ukraine started the war,” how can we fulfill our civic responsibility if not by calling things what they are?
I am 100% with you, Ron. We can (and must) call lies, lies. And liars, liars. To say that Trump is a liar is different from calling him a monster. The nuance is subtle, I realize. But to me, “monster” is dehumanizing, whereas “liar” is not. Thanks for engaging.
Thanks for your affirming reply. I so appreciate everything you write.
I think I disagree with you but I struggle here. I believe some people have give so far toward evil (absence of God) that they are recognizable as monsters. There is no good to be found in them (Sodom and Gomorrah). That doesn’t mean that God is not capable of redeeming them. Maybe it’s just semantics but I think some people are truly monsters.
I hear you. I find myself there at moments as well (disagreeing with myself). I was talking with my 17 year old about it this morning, and she said: I understand that he is a person. But I think some people can be monsters.
I think there are some important and real distinctions underneath the semantics of it all… Sigh. Lingering at the tension.
Thank you so much for articulating some of the many thoughts and struggles I continue to have in these times as we are bombarded (hourly?) by new policies, actions (and inactions), and words by this administration and other parts of this government. Monstrous to be sure, but also human image bearers as well. That and I miss Fred Rogers’ voice and example for us all.
“And somehow… all things – all persons – will be made new.” Including me I hope. Thanks for putting this together Heidi; well done.
Me, too. Amen.
I love your heart, your bravery, your words. Yes to all of this. Not succumbing to simple monstrous condemnations is hard. I have to steer my heart away from it constantly. But I do believe we are called to a harder, better path that leans into love and grace for all.
I’ll be reading (and sharing) this one again. Thank you.
I take your point. But searching on OED definitions of “monster” I just found eight definitions. One as a frightening imaginary creature (scary, but no reference to evil!). One just any large ugly animal or thing. Most of the rest refer to malformed natural things; but several refer to people, including one specifically defining a monster as a person who is very cruel and evil. Not sure where to go with this. Maybe we just try to love even monsters, knowing/hoping the imaginary ones will just disappear and any real ones may still be transformed; but that the love will be greater. Can we wield love as a weapon?
Yes, Peter. Thank you. I hear you on the various monster definitions (see my daughter’s comment from a reply above)… AND I refrained from mentioning a whole list of non-human names people are calling the current president that have even less-human alternative definitions. It may be less about semantics and more about posture and motivation. Perhaps there is a way one could call him a monster with love, just as Jesus called Peter Satan… with love.
Love as a weapon… in the spirit of healing burning coals…
Let’s continue in our wondering
*heaping!
Good typo!
Heidi, this is so good. I love what you say here about Mr. Rogers and I very much appreciated the comments Tim made on the original Robert Reich article. I also appreciate that you’re still wrestling with it and letting the tension exist, as your replies to some of these comments show. But your point that we cannot overcome evil with evil is an important reminder.
Heidi, I join those thanking you for lifting up the struggle many of us are having these days.
Dehumanizing is wrong. All/each are created in the image of God and must be respected as such.
Yet, we can be in the grip of dehumanizing actions, habitually doing evil things.
Love truly is the answer, applying caring actions in each and every situation and person.
The lectionary texts for this coming Sunday are really appropriate. “Love your enemies,” etc, Luke 6:27-38
Thank you Heidi.
Another thing. I am addressing “RZ.”
RZ, please come out from behind your anonymity!
For a while, I would avoid reading RZ in protest. But that didn’t seem right.
You’ve contributed in this space for a long time, even more intensely in recent weeks.
Occasionally someone may self-identify as Paul or Rich or whatever. Fine.
To be a regular contributor in this forum and remind anonymous seems wrong to me.
How about it? Thanks.
Heidi, I hate living with tension. I much prefer clear lines and definite answers to life’s questions. But as I’ve lived more of life, I’ve come to realize that there are so many areas where I simply must abandon the quest for finality and live into wonder and awe. ( cf. synodical decrees that draw sharp lines of who’s in and who’s out.) I’m struggling, as you are, when I hear the daily (almost hourly) words coming from the White House. How easy to demonize rather than see the humanity (broken and fallen) of many of our leaders. And I too have a hard time loving those whose actions are so hurtful to millions, maybe billions, when we take into account the international scene.
So thank you for sharing your own struggle and allowing/encouraging me to continue in my own wonderings. I don’t expect to have all the answers to my questions until heaven, and if I don’t get answers there, I’m sure it won’t diminish the joy of being with my Lord and all my sisters and brothers whose views I may struggle with today. But I must and will continue to be serious about today’s brokenness. Head in the sand is not an option.
Thank you Heidi! Simple is best…first and foremost we are called to LOVE, regardless of how hard this can be. I understand the struggle and certainly have questions I wish I could have answered on this side of heaven, but alas, will likely not until I meet our Savior face to face..
Thank you, Heidi, as always, and for being honest about the tension that generated so many helpful responses by fellow readers who, as myself, share that provocative tension.
AMEN!!!!!
I think that the word monster is derived from a Latin word that means “to reveal”. Reveal what? Sometimes, ourselves.
Your post puts me in mind of the following vignette:
“In 1960, Israeli undercover agents kidnapped one of the worst killers in Hitler’s army from his hideout in South America. His name was Adolf Eichmann. They took him to Israel to stand trial for crimes against humanity. Prosecutors called a long list of witnesses who had either seen Eichmann commit those crimes or had seen the evidence of his crimes. One witness was a small elderly man named Yehiel Dinur, who had escaped death in Auschwitz.
When it was his day to testify, Dinur entered the courtroom and stared at the man in the bulletproof glass booth – the man, who had murdered Dinur’s friends, personally murdered hundreds of Jewish men, women, and even young children, and presided over the slaughter of millions more. As the eyes of the two men met something happened that shook the center courtroom. Yehiel Dinur stood in silence, looking at the man who had done all that, and then he began to sob uncontrollably. He collapsed on the floor and had to be carried out until he was composed enough to go back and testify.
What made Mr. Dinur react that way? He was interviewed by Mike Wallace on TV years later. Was Dinur overcome by hatred? Fear? Horrid memories? No; it was none of these. Rather, as Dinur explained to Wallace, all at once he realized Eichmann was not the god-like army officer who had sent so many to their deaths. This Eichmann was an ordinary man. “I was afraid about myself,” said Dinur. “… I saw that I am capable to do this. I am … exactly like he.”
“Eichmann is in all of us.”
Paradoxically, unless we open our hearts to this truth, we’ll be unable to love our enemies.
Powerful vignette, Jeff. I appreciate it and all the honest wrestling happening on this forum.
Yes! Latin teacher here. I was going to speak to the etymology, but you beat me to it. The verb is monstrō, monstrāre (also demonstrō, demonstrāre), and you can clearly see the English derivative “demonstrate” there. I agree that our ability and willingness to call out monsters says as much about us as it does about them. I teach 5th-8th graders, and we are currently in the middle of a monster project (think Sesame Street, not vampires), but we talk about “monsters” we encounter in the stories we read and the stories we live. Are some truly monsters? A good discussion here (thank you, Heidi), and disagreement will continue. What a weight of sorrow on the days I’m inclined to say “yes.” But what I know for sure is humans are more than willing to throw that word out there without discussion or discernment. Or prayer. Or love. For my part (and only mine, so this is testimony, not exhortation), I hope I always ask myself, “If this person is indeed a monster, do I wish for this person’s sake that it wasn’t the case?” For my sake too! Would that we all find ourselves at the table of healing and reconciliation.
Amen! I think MLK would have had a similar view.
Thank you for naming the tension. When I think or speak a dehumanizing name for someone I don’t like, it makes me feel better but doesn’t do anything to make peace. It becomes a weapon, and I believe God calls us to lay down our weapons. Easy to say, super hard to do.
Thanks to Tim for speaking truth in the way of Jesus.
Thanks for this powerful article, and thanks for including the article about Mr. Rogers.