It has bothered me
for years, and I have spoken and written about it many times; so, for those who
know me at all, this may seem redundant. Hopefully, there will be a new angle
today: some new insight you or I (or, even better, we) may understand for the
first time.
I’ve been reading
John Kennedy’s Profiles in Courage,
in which the late president quotes from John Quincy Adams’ diary:
“I
have already had occasion to experience, which I had before the fullest reason
to expect, the dangers of adhering to my own principles. The country is so
totally given up to the spirit of party
that not to follow blindfolded the one or the other is an expiable offence. … Between
both, I see the impossibility of pursuing the dictates of my own conscience without
sacrificing every prospect, not merely of advancement, but even of retaining
that character and reputation I have enjoyed. Yet my choice is made, and, if I
cannot hope to give satisfaction to my country, I am at least determined to
have the approbation of my own reflections.”[1]
John Quincy felt
he was uniquely and solely qualified and duly compelled by God alone to enact
and promote specific policies and principles. His adamancy (many called it
blatant stubbornness) did not help him win friends and influence people. As
Kennedy put it, “He was, after all, ‘an Adams … cold, tactless and rigidly conscientious.’”[2]
And yet, what most
severely alienated him from even his own Federalist Party was that he prioritized
the good of the country over the platform of his, or any other, party. After serving
as sixth President of the United States, he was elected to serve in the
legislature of his home state of Massachusetts. When first asked to serve in
that capacity, he agreed, but declared that he would not actively seek or
campaign for the office, and, if elected, he would serve on the basis of his
own sense of what was right, “completely independent of my party or the ones
who elect me.” Adams remains one of few American statesmen who served from a non-partisan
position.
It’s been around
since Cain and Able, and has manifested itself at the social level at least
since Abraham’s son, Ishmael, viz., a hateful, antagonistic division, defined
by diverse ideology or competing self-interest. We humans simply cannot
tolerate any divergence from our own individual and/or group ideology or goals.
It makes virtually no difference how large a group may be, or how the group is
constituted and designed. It can be a couple or a family, a sports team, a civic
or fraternal organization, a religious community, town, state, tribe or nation;
but, it is most visible in the political partisanism that has raged in
virtually every culture since humanity manifested a social nature.
If there is an
original sin that has cursed humanity, it’s not the eating of an apple. It’s
our failure to accept each other on the same basis God accepts us, viz., grace.
Indeed, we don’t even accept the grace God extends to us (which may well
explain our human tendencies toward adversarialism).
In theological terms,
we speak of “realized grace” as a category distinct from grace, itself. Though
grace is extended to all, without merit, we humans have great difficulty realizing
and accepting “something for nothing” (which is precisely what grace is!) In
the experience of unworthiness regarding offered grace, we humans attempt to
justify ourselves by comparing ourselves with others: “I’m not as bad as she!”
(a practice Jesus compared to taking the speck out of a brother’s eye while
ignoring the log in one’s own eye).
Yet, when we put
conditions on grace, we thereby totally erase any vestige of its qualities. The
moment it is made conditional in any way, it ceases to be grace, and we all are
condemned, “for all have sinned” (Romans 3:23). Thus, in our condition of “unrealized
grace,” our struggle for justification takes on the aforementioned adversarial
nature.
It is significant that
Jesus’ parable of the unforgiving servant (Matthew 18:23-35) immediately
follows his response to Peter’s question, “Lord, if (a brother) sins against me, how often should I
forgive? As many as seven times?” Jesus
said to him, “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.”[3]
Perhaps the first
step in overcoming our partisan divisions is to surrender our obsession with
self-justification, and to open ourselves to the possibility of grace. German-American
pastor, teacher, and theologian, Paul Tillich, put it this way in one of his
most frequently read sermons:
“There
is too often a graceless acceptance of Christian doctrines and a graceless
battle against the structures of evil in our personalities. Such a graceless
relation to God may lead us by necessity either to arrogance or to
despair.
It
would be better to refuse God and the Christ and the Bible than to accept them
without grace. For if we accept without
grace, we do so in the state of separation, and can only succeed in deepening
the separation. [Italics mine.]
We
cannot transform our lives, unless we allow them to be transformed by that
stroke of grace. It happens; or it does not happen. And certainly, it does not
happen if we try to force it upon ourselves, just as it shall not happen so
long as we think, in our self-complacency, that we have no need of it.
Grace
strikes us when we are in great pain and restlessness. It strikes us when we
walk through the dark valley of a meaningless and empty life. It strikes us
when we feel that our separation is deeper than usual, because we have violated
another life, a life which we loved, or from which we were estranged.
It
strikes us when our disgust for our own being, our indifference, our weakness,
our hostility, and our lack of direction and composure have become intolerable
to us. It strikes us when, year after year, the longed-for perfection of life
does not appear, when the old compulsions reign within us as they have for
decades, when despair destroys all joy and courage.
Sometimes
at that moment a wave of light breaks into our darkness, and it is as though a
voice were saying: "You are accepted. You are accepted, accepted by that
which is greater than you, and the name of which you do not know. Do not ask
for the name now; perhaps you will find it later. Do not try to do anything
now; perhaps later you will do much. Do not seek for anything; do not perform
anything; do not intend anything. Simply accept the fact that you are
accepted!"
If
that happens to us, we experience grace. After such an experience we may not be
better than before, and we may not believe more than before. But everything is
transformed. In that moment, grace conquers sin, and reconciliation bridges the
gulf of estrangement. And nothing is demanded of this experience, no religious
or moral or intellectual presupposition, nothing but acceptance.
In the light of this grace we perceive the
power of grace in our relation to others and to ourselves. We experience the
grace of being able to look frankly into the eyes of another, the miraculous
grace of reunion of life with life. We experience the grace of understanding
each other's words. We understand not merely the literal meaning of the words,
but also that which lies behind them, even when they are harsh or angry. For
even then there is a longing to break through the walls of separation.
We experience the grace of being able to
accept the life of another, even if it be hostile and harmful to us, for,
through grace, we know that it belongs to the same Ground to which we belong,
and by which we have been accepted. We experience the grace which is able to
overcome the tragic separation of the sexes, of the generations, of the
nations, of the races, and even the utter strangeness between man and nature.
Sometimes grace appears in all these separations to reunite us with those to
whom we belong. For life belong to life. [Italics
mine. This is the key to my thoughts today.]
And
in the light of this grace we perceive the power of grace in our relation to
ourselves. We experience moments in which we accept ourselves, because we feel
that we have been accepted by that which is greater than we. If only more such
moments were given to us! For it is such moments that make us love our life,
that make us accept ourselves, not in our goodness and self- complacency, but
in our certainty of the eternal meaning of our life. We cannot force ourselves
to accept ourselves. We cannot compel anyone to accept himself. But sometimes
it happens that we receive the power to say "yes" to ourselves, that
peace enters into us and makes us whole, that self-hate and self-contempt
disappear, and that our self is reunited with itself. Then we can say that
grace has come upon us.[4]
That’s the way it looks through the flawed
glass that is my world view.
Together
in the Walk,
Jim
[1] John
F. Kennedy, Profiles in Courage (New
York: Harper & Brothers, 1956) page 38-39 (italics mine).
[2]
Ibid, page 39.
[3] The
saying is rendered, “seventy times seven
times” in some translations. In either case, the number seven signified
completion or perfection, and to pair it with itself—or to multiply it times
itself—was to make it infinite. The intention here is that one’s forgiveness
should be without limits or conditions.
[4] Paul Tillich, “You are Accepted”, Chapter 19 in The Shaking of the. Foundations (New
York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1948).
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