The first time
I sat down for a conversation with my new colleague, his first words were, “I’m
a black-and-white sort of person.” His reputation for stirring things up had
preceded him, and my immediate thought was, “That explains it.”
He and I enjoyed
a trusting collegial relationship as we worked together, and I still hold our friendship
dear. He is intelligent and knowledgeable (and opinionated) about a wide
variety of topics, he is deeply compassionate and deeply spiritual and can be
very charming. But his “black-and-white” approach to life continues to be
counterproductive in both his relationships and his vocational pursuit.
In my
observation, a black-and-white approach has a counterproductive impact on
virtually every part of life. It lends itself, almost de facto, to adversarial confrontations, and is never—ever—an effective vehicle for
negotiation or collaboration or effective problem-solving; indeed, it more
likely will create conflict than resolve it.
Black-and-white
people are perceived (correctly, all too often) as arrogant and obstinate, and often
project an attitude of intolerance. They aim more frequently at persuading
others than seeking to understand them. And, whether accurate or inaccurate, they
are heard to say, “I’m right; therefore anybody who disagrees with me is wrong.
Period.”
The “right”
must prevail; and since I’m right, I must prevail. It’s only a short hop from
that pronouncement to an “ends-justify-the-ends” ethic. But, in truth, the
noblest cause, if achieved ignobly, is tainted, and thus ignoble.
Given the
tirade above, it probably won’t shock you to know that I consider myself a
both/and person. I live in the gray. My black-and-white friends (I truly am not
aware of any enemies), consider me weak, malleable and even naïve. Compromise
is a dirty word to them. But I find it a strength to be able to listen to both
sides of any issue, to consider them in light of circumstances[1]
and sometimes even to take parts of both to create a whole new reality.
My long-time
readers may grow tired of reading, “I believe in absolute truth; but, I don’t
believe any human or group of humans is capable of perceiving truth
absolutely.” Truth is not relative; but my perception of it is, and therefore
it is incumbent upon me to keep searching and growing in understanding.
And so, I am
brought up short when I realize that Jesus uncompromisingly took sides in a
debate that was as old as Judaism. Was Jesus a black-and-white person?
As I’ve
outlined in previous blogs, the ancient debate, faithfully recorded and later
included as part of Holy Scripture[2], presents contradictory understandings as
part of an effort to discern the nature and will of God. Which is it: (1) Is God a
warrior/despot, jealous of his conquests and harsh in judgment upon those who
stray from his pronouncements and laws, or (2) is God a creator, loving redeemer
and merciful sustainer whose concern is the well-being of God’s creation?
There’s a third possible reading: God is both, because the
Bible says so. This understanding requires that I jump through one of two
hoops: (1) I have to overcome the hang-up that such a reading understands God
as schizophrenic, or (2) I have to overcome a hang-up regarding the definition
of Grace. If God relates in one way to “those who stray from his pronouncements
and laws” and in a different way with “the people who choose to live in
relationship with God,” then the divine/human relationship is based on human
behavior rather than on God’s Grace, and the whole Christ event is rendered
impotent and irrelevant. We are back under the law: obey or die.
We’re under Grace or we’re under the Law. Limited as I am by
the clay of which I am made, I cannot conceive of having it both ways. I am
fortified in that belief by my Lenten journey, in which I am discovering how
Jesus read the Bible. Jesus consistently chose the side of the debate that
understands God as loving and restoring, and rejected the alternative of God as
vengeful and blood-thirsty. That choice directed all he taught and preached and
how he served. And his choice qualified the intent behind his invitation: “Follow
me.”
So, here I am, touting my liberal openness, claiming to be a “both/and”
kinda’ guy, confronting a black-and-white” choice. It’s what Thomas G. Bandy
calls a “bedrock belief.” It is the limit beyond which I can see no other
alternatives: Grace or Law. Upon the choice I make I stake my eternal destiny.
I choose Grace.
It’s also by choosing Grace that I am free to acknowledge the
gray and to live there fearlessly, trusting that my relationship with God and
my eternal destiny are based upon God’s Grace, and not upon whether I’m right
or wrong about anything.
That’s the way I see it through the flawed glass that is my
world view.
Together in the Walk,
Jim
[1] Which is another quality
perceived as weakness to my black-and-white friends. To them, there is no
circumstantial consideration. Right is right and wrong is wrong under all
circumstances.
[2] At another time it might
be well to discuss the role of inspiration and revelation in both the recording
and the canonizing of the writings we call Holy.
As Frank Schaeffer says in his book, Why I am an Atheist Who Believes in God, many people are kinder in their behavior than their beliefs would indicate. I know a number of people who believe that certain life choices are sinful, but they are unfailingly kind to people who have made these choices. I think it is a way in which they can keep their black and white beliefs, while living in the gray. If I'm honest, I have to admit that I continue to be surprised by judgemental, unexamined assumptions in my own life. I am currently struggling with the need to be right. It is much stronger than I realized!
ReplyDeleteThe kinds of confusing realizations of which you speak are precisely what make it impossible for me to be black and white. With my inquisitive mind I can always come up with a, "Yeah, but..." I wish I knew more people like you describe. In my observation it is the black and white people who most frequently are the source of judgment. But, like you, I then look in the mirror and see the log in my own eye.
DeleteI remember when Barry Goldwater was being touted leading up to the Presidential election in 1964. I was in undergraduate school. His slogan was, "In your heart, you know he's right." To which we liberal young whippersnappers smirked, "Extremely right!"
Thanks for responding.