Through the Gray

 

More than ten years ago, I wrote a reflection titled “It’s Black or White.” It explored the concept of moral absolutes and questioned whether there is a clear line between good and evil or if society has blurred the distinction. I argued: “There is black and there is white. There is good and there is evil. There is truth and there are lies. There is light and there is darkness.” The general response from the confused people of the time was that there is also gray, and I replied, “I don’t want to live in a world of darkness, of gray areas, or of evil. I want to live in the Light.”

Over the years, I have seen this grayness take hold—not only in how people view morality but in how we communicate, how we lead, and how we approach conflict. The distinction between good and evil has become so blurred that many can no longer recognize the truth. Even more troubling is the decline of wisdom, humility, and the willingness to engage in meaningful, compassionate dialogue. The evidence of a morally deteriorating society is everywhere, but it became especially clear to me while watching the discussion between Zelensky and the United States. Instead of engaging in a dialogue rooted in wisdom and compassion, the conversation seemed driven more by power than by a genuine pursuit of peace.

We don’t have to wonder what Jesus would do because we know what Jesus did. By the time he was twelve, Jesus’ homeland had long been under Roman rule. In 6 CE, Judea became a direct Roman province, intensifying tensions among the people. Some rebelled, others submitted, and many lived in fear or indifference. Yet Jesus did not respond with hostility or division. He spent his short time in ministry standing with the oppressed, healing the sick, and restoring dignity to those cast aside. His actions were rooted in deep compassion—a sorrow for those burdened by suffering and a relentless desire to bring them hope. He clearly distinguished good from evil, recognizing that oppression thrives when power is valued over people. But he also called for something greater than resistance or submission—he called for transformation through love, humility, and a pursuit of peace.

A compassionate response begins with empathy—the ability to understand, feel, and share another person’s experience and perspective. In this case, we can only begin to grasp what Zelensky must be enduring, the weight of leading a nation under siege, and the frustration that inevitably follows. If we’re honest, most of us have been overcome with anger or despair over far less than years of war against an overpowering aggressor. If we lose our ability to see through the eyes of those who suffer, how can we expect compassion when our own trials come? True empathy should not be conditional, nor should it require a personal stake in the suffering of others. It should arise from a deep, unwavering recognition of our shared humanity—one that shapes the way we listen, the way we speak, and the way we seek peace.

The exchange between these leaders made me sad. I could almost hear Jesus saying, “If you, even you, had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes” (Luke 19:42). I am not asking for blind allegiance or simplistic solutions, only for leaders to engage in dialogue that seeks peace over power, and for the rest of us to advocate for the same. Words have the power to heal or wound, to build bridges or deepen divides. If we fail to promote thoughtful and compassionate discourse, we risk losing our ability to respond with wisdom and understanding.

Let’s open our eyes—not to the noise of the media, but to the presence of God. Let’s close our ears to propaganda and listen instead for His voice. Just as the people of Judea in 6 CE faced the weight of oppression and uncertainty, so too does our world wrestle with conflict and division. Yet Jesus did not respond with power plays or condemnation—he responded with compassion, wisdom, and a call to peace. If we truly listen, God will guide us “to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, and guide our feet into the way of peace” (Luke 1:79). In a world of uncertainty, let us not be lost in the gray, but choose to “walk as children of light” (Ephesians 5:8).