A LOVE LETTER

We’re hearing it everywhere: “Christian vitalism.” To some of us, it’s carried to our ears as a whisper on the wind. It’s the first thought on our minds waking up from an afternoon nap. It’s in the crackle of a burning trash can. It’s always been with us but we’re only now remembering what it means. It’s reemerging here and now, coming to us from outside of space and time, at this moment in history, as a country grieves and rages over the murder of yet another black man—GEORGE FLOYD—at the hands of the pig state. The simple utterance, “BLACK LIVES MATTER,” which so many find so difficult to say, has reminded us of the sacred character of LIFE.

And so we’re embracing LIFE together as friends. We’re recognizing the élan vital in each other and we’re glowing in that shared light. We’re feeling our own power in each other’s power and learning the real meaning of holiness, which here, we speculate, we have until now gotten all wrong. We’re making ourselves vessels for the Spirit’s historical mission. We’re responding to the call spontaneously. We’re carrying the torch of universal love to the streets and to the barricades. We’re getting maced outside the Barclays Center and we’re dancing on the bridges that we shut down.

In short, we are taking a position against the sterile barbarism of the contemporary political and technological schema. We take it as a demand of Christian love that we declare open revolt against the racist policing, incarceration, and surveillance apparatus, against capitalist domination, against the increasingly sophisticated technical system of repression —the organized regime of death. We’re guided by an old creed echoing in a new generation: OMNIA SUNT COMMUNIA. We’re articulating a theology of life against the peddlers of death. We’re discovering what that means experimentally and autonomously. We want you to come work it out with us.

WE ARE ONE BODY 
ONE BODY IN CHRIST

To those Party of Order types who would use the Church as a bludgeon to submit life to the organized regime of death, we have nothing to say. History has already judged you. You’re drooping and tired—so sleep. We’ve left you behind and our step is a little bit lighter for it.

It’s the season of Pentecost and we’re illuminated by fire.


Love,
Your friends
THE CHRISTIAN VITALISTS