I clearly remember one particular statement from an ethics class in seminary over 35 years ago. Dr. Stanley Hauerwas was teaching about love and sacrifice, and he said that in a romantic relationship, it is the person who says “I love you” who has the power. Many of us young 20-somethings were perplexed. All of us in that class knew that in a dating relationship we did not want to be the first person to say I love you. It would leave us vulnerable — it would leave us open to rejection and heartbreak.
More than 35 years later, as lead minister of Piedmont UU Church, the statement makes so much more sense to me. True courage and power come in being vulnerable. That is understandably scary. It is important to embrace our fears so we might be able to embody courage more fully. Author Beau Taplin wrote, “Softness is not weakness. It takes courage to stay delicate in a world so cruel.”
I want to be clear that there need to be guidelines for vulnerability. If we are in a situation where we are not safe — whether physically, spiritually or emotionally — or if we are being dehumanized — vulnerability is not needed. During those situations, we need to care for our own well-being first. When I am encouraging vulnerability today, it is not in those types of situations.
We live in a society where the “tough man” image is held up as the ideal. We are confronted with this continually, especially by the leaders of our government. Our Department of Defense secretary spends an inordinate amount of time posting videos of himself working out with military personnel to show how “manly” he is and talking about “testosterone.” He uses extremist Christian language to justify his crusade to make the military more “manly” and “lethal.”
I believe Shakespeare had a deep understanding of human nature when he wrote, “The lady doth protest too much.” The more vocal and obnoxious people become, the more they are terrified to confront their own vulnerability. They’re too scared to come face to face with the truth of who they are. And I look forward to the time when we are not confronted with this daily from the highest office in our land.
When we think of great spiritual leaders in the world, the courage to be vulnerable is a common theme. Jesus was clear that the first shall be last and the last shall be first. He said that he came in the guise of the most vulnerable in society. He proclaimed a message of peace, inclusion and going against what society celebrated and honored.
I know many of us remember a famous photo from 2016, after police murdered two Black men — Alton Sterling and Philando Castile — among other violent acts that sparked the Black Lives Matter movement. Iesha Evans was a young Black woman, a nurse and a mom, who calmly stood in the middle of the street, hands openly in front of her, wearing a simple, flowing sundress — while police in riot gear rushed towards her. As she stood there, she was completely vulnerable. No protection, no armor, no defense. She later told reporters, “Sometimes, you get a job you didn’t apply for. I had to do something. I appreciate the well wishes and love, but this is the work of God. I am a vessel!”
The courage of Evans’ vulnerability inspired countless others and became a symbol of a vitally important movement in our world.
Our vulnerability is our strength. Accepting and loving our vulnerability is one of the most spiritual things we can do — it’s a deeply courageous way to live. Our vulnerability is beautiful and strong. It is that divine spark, connected to Divine Source, which lights the way in a dark world. As we continue to fight the good fight in our country and in our world, let us embrace our vulnerability and know it is our strength that will embolden our courage.
“Dear Neighbor” authors are united in a belief that civility and passion can coexist. We believe curiosity and conversation make us a better community.
