II Corinthians 6:16-18, NIV (Paul writing to the Corinthian Church.)

"What agreement is there between the temple of God and idols? For we are the temple of the living God. As God has said:
'I will live with them and walk among them, and I will be their God, and they will be my people.' [Leviticus 12: 26]
Therefore, 'Come out from them and be separate, says the Lord. Touch no unclean thing, and I will receive you,' [Isaiah 52:11]
And, 'I will be a Father to you, and you will be my sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty.'" [II Samuel 7:14]

Sometimes we're faced with the struggle of reconciling apparently opposed "truths." Like finding a way both to keep our children close and safe while releasing them so they learn to survive and thrive without us. The Christian life includes any number of such paradoxesⁱ as, for instance, in "love your enemies," or "whoever seeks to save his life shall lose it."

A particularly thorny paradox for my Anabaptist faith community for centuries now has been the paradox of separation/engagement. While Jesus "ate with sinners" and urged us to go out into the world to "preach the gospel to every creature," Paul channels the Old Testament in a plea to early Christians to separate themselves from the pagan world around them. In Old Colony and Hutterian Brethren branches of Anabaptist faith, for instance, separation taken very literally has become a core principle. In more liberal branches engagement holds equal sway or predominates, manifested in material aid: health and education provision; peace, justice and development efforts.

It seems too simple to say that solving the paradox is easy: separation in faith and ethic, engagement in mission and outreach. Problem solved.

Not really. What we've learned from experience is that when we "engage," it's almost inevitably with people who live under a similar separation/engagement paradox. Take immigration to Canada of Muslim families. For them the separation/engagement paradox is a source of stress and anxiety and something as simple as applying Christian neighbourliness to them is never a one-off-and-done project. It's persistent, patient relationship-building without a mandatory end-result in mind that's needed. This can't happen unless we've come to terms with our own separation/engagement anxieties and confusions, and a separation complex, isolationism can't achieve this; the dream of a world of peace and justice will come to mean very little to us if withdrawing from the public becomes our defining ethic.

There's something practical and necessary about urging a new Christian (say a recovering alcoholic) to steer clear of old haunts and habits, to "separate." The break may be instant (a born again experience?) but as has been shown repeatedly, it's engagement over the long haul that makes the difference. I think it was a similar exception that Paul was talking about to newly-converted Corinthian Christians.

It also seems practical and necessary in raising our children that we prevent their absorption into haunts and habits leading toward destructive ends, but "stay away from the Herdmans" is not precaution enough; I think Jesus would have us engage with the Herdmans, build a relationship that could help them onto a new path . . . if that's what's needed.

A "wise" Christian has probably sensed and acknowledged the tension between separation and engagement, and has through study, dialogue and contemplation learned how to "divide that 'truth' rightly" (II Timothy 2:15). Unfortunately, we've too often opted for dividing the church wrongly instead . . . the easy way out. That choice has really proved itself to result from a separation complex left unresolved. Us and them.

I am thankful today for all those Christians who are "out there," who are risking their safety, their comfort, their reputations to foster peace and good will in their families, in their church, in their communities, in their nation, in the world generally. They're not preoccupied with winning numbers of people to their brand of separation, they're following the call to flavour (think salt) and light up (think modeling justice, mercy, kindness) the world as they find it, employing the talents with which they've been gifted.

"'Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among the thieves?'

And he [a certain lawyer]said, 'he that shewed mercy on him.'
Then said Jesus unto him, 'Go, and do thou likewise.'" (Luke 10: 36-7, KJV)

A refreshing thing about a good paradox is that, if nothing else, it can remind us that black and white aren't the only colours! "Oh look," she said, "a rainbow!"

i Paradox: a statement or proposition that seems self-contradictory or absurd but in reality expresses a possible truth.