The news over the past month has been filled with many stories of horrible things happening across the world. It seems as though one day we hear about civil unrest in one country, natural disaster in another, and then leapfrog around the world between the two issues. Many of these names carry powerful emotions behind them now. Egypt. Libya. Christchurch. Japan. Afghanistan. Bahrain. When reading stories about these issues, or thinking about our own problems in general, it can be very easy to dwell on and get discouraged by them, and wonder what if anything could be done about them. I speak from my own temptations here, and so partly for my own sake I’d like to address the human problems that we create for ourselves in the world, particularly in relation to the sort of violent conflict currently going on in my country.

I write this with the background noise of ambulances constantly roaring down the road next to my apartment, running dangerous excursions to the “front lines” where mobs have been fighting, riot police are deployed and now an international military coalition parks their tanks, waiting to be called on.

In my particular country there is a heated, passionate dispute between the existing government with their supporters, and pro-democracy reformers with their supporters. One is a majority ethnoreligious group, and the other a minority. The majority has, by all measurable means, not been represented in what is supposed to be a representative government. This issue isn’t unique to my country, it’s been repeated around the world and throughout the ages. It’s very easy to “pick sides” with a large, oppressed majority and to demonize a corrupt government. Partly because we’re fond of the underdog and skeptical of large bureaucracies that tend to abuse their power. And there can be good reason for this. Jesus-followers are called to advocate for those that have no advocate (Matt. 5:3, 4), and to have a great, legitimate desire for justice (Prov. 21:3).

By and large, for those two reasons, I’m very angry with the existing powers that be that have promoted oppression violently, created slander, promoted racial prejudices and created laws for the official subjugation of non-party followers. Practically, that subjugation has worked its way out in poverty, denial of basic human rights, and now death. In spite of all that, however, I find myself empathizing with both sides of the conflict. I’ll tell a story to illustrate.

When I was a little kid my family would eat dinner together and, for a time, since I was the youngest and had a different diet, my sister would get served dinner first. I went through a phase for a short time where I would cry and storm because she would get served food on her plate maybe 10 seconds before I did. Every single meal I’d get upset. Of course, after those precious 10 seconds I’d get my own food on my plate. My parents gave me plenty of nutritious, delicious food – my Mom was and is a great cook. During those 10 seconds, to be sure, I thought I was not merely getting the short end of the stick, but that I was getting utterly rejected from the meal altogether.

When I was a kid my insecurities would get the best of me because I didn’t know better. As an adult I have fewer excuses, but my insecurities still get the better of me. There are still times when I feel entitled to things. And I do believe we all have a right to something as necessary as food. However, if I’m not loving God and don’t believe in His consistent, prevailing care for me, I would be ready to go down fighting. Without that assurance from God as displayed in Jesus, I might steal someone else’s bread. Without security in His lasting provision, once I have enough bread, I might begin to stockpile it just in case I need it later. Once I’ve stockpiled my bread, I may also then proceed to arrange a building to protect it. I might hire some guards to protect the building. I may even manipulate individuals, communities and entire national government systems to ensure I never lose my ability to protect my bread. The great costs involved with those sorts of protective measures can nearly guarantee someone else cannot access their own bread, and certainly not mine.

I’m prone to insecurity that would drive me to those lengths. I’ll restate it in case it was lost in the text: without the rich, consistent assurance that God cares for me in all areas of life, most notably demonstrated in His Son’s provision on the cross, I have no rational choice but to fight tooth and nail for my own good by my own means, no matter what and no matter who gets in my way. When I’m concerned about my livelihood, that’s the only reasonable alternative, and I – along with anyone else – might kill to preserve myself. I know the evil that both myself and everyone is capable of.

For this reason I find myself empathizing with both the oppressors and those oppressed in this country. Both are in a depressing, anxiety-filled state with no lasting promise to address the fundamental insecurities in play. An abundance of riches resulting from either hegemonic, iron-fisted rule, or from an idealized yet ever-distant perfect democracy will always fail to provide the security that only God provides.