Is this the hill to die on?

I’m raising a preteen middle-schooler, and so I say this to myself at least twice a day as we negotiate, yes negotiate, time management, homework, sports, lessons, chores and video-gaming. I have clear values and principles and some concrete skills I want this kid to have in life. And all of these seem to be at stake in these afterschool (and before-school) interactions. But they aren’t. Most times, whatever we are talking about is nothigh stakes. And by the next week, this kid has learned a lesson in their own way (although harder than needed) and is closer to being on track.

But sometimes, there are hills we must metaphorically die on. There are times when we must throw down the gauntlet and echo the words of Martin Luther, “Here I stand. I can do no other.” And thus the Protestant Reformation was born – even though it was not Luther’s original intent.

In the last year, I’ve found myself in more high-stakes conflicts that ever before. It does have something to do with the heightening political conflict in the U.S., bold anti-Blackness, global awareness of wars and genocides in eastern Europe, Africa and the Middle East and ongoing violence against LGBTQIA folk. Many of my alignments are because of who I am and the identities and experiences of who I love. And some are just grounded in my own moral compass. And I suspect the people who disagree with me feel the same way.

Never before have I felt like I’m on the hill to die on as much as I have in the last 12 months. I’ve found myself in peaceful but lengthy conversations with people and communities I love. African American writer James Baldwin once said, “”We can disagree and still love each other unless your disagreement is rooted in my oppression and denial of my humanity and right to exist.” It’s hard to know when to transform a situation from within – from a place of genuine love. Or when to walk away. Like Baldwin, my line is when my core humanity is at issue. I just don’t think I can argue or defend when we get to that point. But staying or going .. I suspect that each route is a calling.

Recently, my colleague Tom Oord continued his bold stance for Christian love and inclusion for LGBTQIA folk in his home denomination, The Church of Nazarene. And he was declared a heretic, defrocked and excommunicated for it. Yes, in 2024. In a wonderful article for Newsweek, Tom wrote about the church trial saying, “I was found guilty, but I do not feel sorry.” This was his hill, and I stand with him 100%.

But there are costs to this hill-dying thing. One can lose friendships, employment and communities. Those have to be rebuilt anew. Which is hard and lonely. And why so many people choose not to take unpopular stances. 

I’ve done this. I’ve seen my parents model this. I’ve walked away from friendships and communities and jobs because my (or someone else’s) humanity was up for debate and I had to throw down my personal gauntlet and take the risk. So far, I’ve recovered from the losses. 

But there is always an aching. Many of my community affiliations are non-rational. I maintain and participate in them because of the deep emotional resonance I have with them. Some people and traditions are woven into my soul. We are connected because of who we have been to each other. It’s not something I can think my way into or out of. Navigating this world without something that has formed you and constitutes you is not easy. Just when I think I’ve divorced a situation, I can find myself back there with an open heart. 

Far too often, I’m hacking out a path that feels lonely and sparse. I don’t have any insights into what makes this better because I think we all need community and it’s some real work to “make new friends.” I guess the only blessing is that it’s a beautiful responsibility to be clear enough in one’s principles to know when you are on that hill.

If you’ve made hard hill-life decisions, I’d love to hear about them. Especially how you re-built what you walked away from. Drop me a note and share, please.

Dr. Monica