“An embrace always involved a double movement of aperture and closure. I open my arms to create space in myself for the other. The open arms are a sign both of discontent at being myself only and of desire to include the other. They are an invitation to the other to come in and feel at home with me, to belong to me. In an embrace I also close my arms around the other - not tightly, so as to crush her and assimilate her forcefully into myself - for that would not be an embrace but a concealed power-act of exclusion - but gently, so as to tell her that I do not want to be without her in her otherness. I was her to remain independent and true to her genuine self, to maintain her identity and, as such, to become part of me so that she can enrich me with what she has and I do not."
Such a simple and beautiful description.
This is from a 1992 Journal of Ecumenical Studies reading that was assigned earlier this semester for a social justice class. I’ve thought about it all semester, however, and even shared it with several of my clients and a few colleagues. Each person has found a way to apply it differently, which I think is remarkable. It was written, I believe, in the context of rebuilding a country following civil war. One of my clients saw it, however, in a broken relationship with a family member. Another colleague saw it as a model to which to aspire for his relationships (the theory I like the most). Another friend saw it as a way for unity in the face of derision. All different ways of applying it, and they are all appropriate.
Ultimately, however, all of them saw it as a way to bring about a better future, bring about understanding, bring about peace.
How do you take it, dear reader?
Volf (1992). “Exclusion and embrace”
Source Title: Journal of ecumenical studies
Vol.: 29 Issue: 2 Date: 1992 Pages: 230-248 (20)
