Not Our Own People: What We’re Missing About The (Latest) Sean Spicer Gaffe

For the love, America. Can we not keep it together for A MINUTE? Me and my people have stuff to do this week.

I’ll be quick. When Sean Spicer said, out loud and on real tv, that Hitler never used chemical weapons, that was bad. Deplorable. Inexcusably ignorant, tone-deaf, and revealing the depths of this administration’s ignorance in regards to history. And diplomacy. And the history of diplomacy.

He was wrong, and he apologized. Which is, whatever, I guess better than nothing? But we seem to be missing the fact that he backpedaled, saying that, yes, on second thought, Hitler DID in fact use chemical weapons–but only 1) at the Holocaust centers and 2) not on his own people. 

Not on his. own. people.

Which is to say, a) that the Jewish people were not the real, actual people of Germany (and elsewhere). They were just, you know, those other people. And furthermore, the “Holocaust Centers?” That sounds like something you’d scope out on TripAdvisor. Like for a class field trip or a family getaway over the long weekend. He makes it sound like these set apart areas were pre-approved for acts of atrocity. That crimes against humanity were excusable in these safe zones because the people –Hitler’s OWN people, that is–had agreed ahead of time that this is the way to go about exterminating millions (and millions) of their neighbors.

Jesus.

In the midst of this holy week, our Jewish brothers and sisters observe the feast of the Passover; they gather to celebrate the story of their freedom from slavery, and their identity as the people of God. Meanwhile, Christians remember the story of Jesus’ betrayal, suffering and death. We are called to turn inward, to reflect on the nature of our own sin, and the ways in which we are complicit in the darker parts of the human story.

So I guess, in some backward, twisted way: thank you, Sean Spicer? for the life lesson in all of the above.

We are so deaf to the death knell of history, to the cries of humanity in our own time, that we scarcely blink when our own government continues this arc of destruction. When the spokesperson for the highest office in the land edits the darkest chapter of our recent history, dehumanizing the victims and–in some darker, more twisted reality still–making apologies for the one who enacted this evil. “That Hitler, he wasn’t such a bad guy, really.”

Lord, in your mercy… Do we not see how readily we still do what the dictators and the privileged classes have done forever? How easily we cordon off large segments of the population into “thems” and “others” and “not our own people?” We do it every day. We build a wall to keep them out; we turn a blind eye to their hunger, while we enjoy plenty; we bomb their leaders, while refusing to offer any real aid of our own; we let them rot in prison cells by the millions, or we let our law enforcement gun them down in the streets–for crimes that we get by with every day, or for crimes not committed at all.

Because in some way we cannot name, deep down, we think they are not “our people.” Those fleeing the drug cartel; those enduring the horrors of famine; those who seek sanctuary from the violence of their own government; people of color–or another sexual identity, or another faith tradition–within our own geographical borders. They’re not OUR people. Not really.

They are somehow not us. So we make peace with them dying– because they are dying over there somewhere. In some pre-approved location.

Like the Middle East, or the developing world. Or the prisons. Or the Holocaust Centers.

Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer. Hear our words of contrition, and our liturgies of confession, and our lament for all the ways we let this stand. Every single day.

And may our Jewish brothers and sisters forgive us, too: for the ways we are gradually letting the memory of their suffering fade from our shared narrative. For the ways we skim over our country’s own complicity in those crimes; and for the ways we forget the role that Christians played in demonizing the Jewish people in the first place. As they gather at their tables this week, may they extend a measure of grace towards us…not that we deserve it. But now’s the time to speak our sins. And so, speak them we will.

Or rather, Sean Spicer spoke them for us.

And as we move through this Holy Week, may we also be mindful of the ways we talk about “the Jews” when it comes to the story of killing Jesus. They are not other people. They are our own.

They are all our own people.

Meanwhile, let’s not forget that, no matter how appalling the (latest) flub from Spicer, he is still just the front guy. The spokesperson, mouthpiece, talking head, whatever you want to call it. No matter how many times he sticks his foot in his mouth, he is still not the one writing this story. I’m not saying to give him a pass or anything. He needs to go. But when he does get the boot, let’s not forget the larger machine moving behind his words; the larger play unfolding on the global stage, from which Spicer and his counterparts only offer brief distraction.

Ok, carry on. I’m getting back to my Easter sermon. Because I need to be done with it by 10:30 Saturday night. So I can watch Melissa McCarthy burn this thing to the ground.