The Need to Be Right (or for Others to Be Wrong)

  Can we talk?

Is it just me, or does it seem that, in general, Christianity has evolved into a matter of who’s right and who’s wrong? Even among the theological elitists, there is almost a smugness in finding something "wrong" in someone else's witness. 

Maybe it’s always been that way. The New Testament Gospels, written in the last half of the first century partly responded to heresy. The epistles, written a generation or so earlier, even though they were primarily personal letters addressing practical questions, also addressed foundations of doctrine and confronted “false teachings.”

Peter and Paul, the primary influencers of the first generation of the church—Peter in Jerusalem among Jewish converts and Paul throughout Turkey, Greece and into Rome, working among Greco/Roman converts—carried on a bitter disagreement until it was resolved at the Jerusalem Council (cf. Acts 15). What we learn through their dispute and its resolution is that Christianity is adaptable; it touches people where they are with no prerequisite hoops to jump through in preparation to receive our “right” doctrine.

The infamous Inquisitions and Crusades of the Middle Ages, and even the Protestant Reformation itself, all were intended to punish heresy and infidelity and to extend “correct” doctrine.

So, maybe the greatest heritage of Christianity from the beginning is conflict over who gets it right and who gets it wrong.

More primal is the question of “ultimate reality” and my/our relationship with it: Who gets in and who gets thrown out. Calvinism, in particular, focused more on what is considered “wrong” than on what is considered “right.” The emphasis was on who gets in and who doesn’t, and Calvin made it pretty darn difficult to “get it.”

Bottom line, it all goes back to the Garden and the “fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.” Why would “the man” (adam in Hebrew) want to “know” good and evil? He was in paradise with everything provided, including a mutually gratifying mate.

But there was the tempter: “You’ll be like God, knowing good and evil.”

Hmmmm. "If I 'know,' I’ll be in control (like God). I can do good and avoid evil and thus, by my own initiative, can control my own destiny." But what happened instead was the introduction of doubt: “What if I get it wrong?”

From that moment (one understanding of original sin?), the history of humanity has been a desperate sense of alienation from self and from ultimate reality, and a related search for assurance that I’m getting it right. Faith says, “Just trust God’s word that you are loved and accepted.” But the opposite of Faith is not doubt. It’s knowledge. And it is knowledge that produces doubt, because with knowing comes unknowing--an awareness of the limits of our knowledge; thus, “What if I get it wrong?”

So, my hypothesis is that the right/wrong dichotomy that drives the divisiveness in humanity (including the church) is a manifestation of original sin: the need to know and the rejection of trust.

And one human myth says the way to be assured that “I’m right” is to label those who disagree with me as “wrong.”

What we learn through Luke 9:49-50[1], Mark 9:38-40[2], and Philippians 1:15-18[3] is that even those who teach a different doctrine are affirmed in their witness by both Jesus and Paul[4]; therefore, can be affirmed by us.

What if we simply live as if we truly believe what we say we believe, viz., that “God did not send the son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through him might be saved.” (John 3:17)? Did God fail in God’s purpose? Do we really believe that “through him” (Jesus) we are made at one (atoned) with God and with each other; indeed, with ourselves?

Was God only partially successful in God’s intention that “the world through him might be saved?” Could God not save some because God had set up rules that have to be followed—hoops through which we have to jump—as prerequisites to realizing success? Wouldn’t that put the burden on us, rather than on the grace of God? Or is grace selective? Does grace exclude? Is grace insufficient to cover all our faults and errors?

How would we relate to another person who disagrees with us if we experienced no need to prove him/her wrong? How would we relate if we had no need to prove ourselves right? How would we relate if we trusted that our relationship with God and our eternal destinies (and the other person’s relationship with God and eternal destiny) are functions of God’s grace and not of our being right?

At another level, when you judge whether another person’s faith is wrong, does that exercise bring you closer to God? Do you experience God’s presence in the act of assigning right/wrong absolutes on others—or yourself?

I suspect you’re somewhat like me: you’re more likely to feel a divine presence when you live and relate as if you truly believe what you say you believe, and exercise that belief, not through comparing doctrine or theology, but through an imitation of Jesus, who did not come to condemn the world…

That’s the way it looks through the Flawed Glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk,

Jim

 

---

[1] “John answered, ‘Master, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him because he does not follow with us.’ ⁵⁰But Jesus said to him, ‘Do not stop him, for whoever is not against you is for you.’” (NRSVUE)

[2] “John said to him, ‘Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him because he was not following us.’ ³⁹But Jesus said, ‘Do not stop him, for no one who does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterward to speak evil of me. ⁴⁰Whoever is not against us is for us.’” (NRSVUE)

[3]  “Some proclaim Christ from envy and rivalry but others from goodwill. ¹⁶These proclaim Christ out of love, knowing that I have been put here for the defense of the gospel; ¹⁷the others proclaim Christ out of selfish ambition, not sincerely but intending to increase my suffering in my imprisonment. ¹⁸What does it matter? Just this, that Christ is proclaimed in every way, whether out of false motives or true, and in that I rejoice.” (NRSVUE)

[4] A particularly cogent observation, since one recent right/wrong discussion regards the influence of Paul on current understandings of Jesus. Some say current Christianity is more a reflection of Paul than of Jesus, and that Paul misleads the faith (read: “is wrong”). I’m only just discovering that argument, and am not yet informed enough to weigh in.

 

The First Mutation

 “The Church is a place of great beauty and healing. It can also be a place that traumatizes, excludes, and abuses.”[1]

From the very beginning—the Acts of the Apostles in the Christian New Testament—the church has been divided. In chapter 15 Peter and Paul, the leading voices of the nascent church, locked horns over whether Gentiles should become Jews (read: be circumcised) before being accepted into the church.

The church in Corinth was divided over almost everything: which spiritual gifts were more important, whose baptism counted, which preacher they should follow… Even the Lord’s Supper was a point of contention.

Heresies abounded in that first generation of the church: Gnosticism, Docetism, Arianism, etc. The overarching question was “Who’s right?” How can we make sure we get it right, so we won’t go to hell when we die? (More about hell in the next blog!)

That issue of who’s right and who’s wrong never has been resolved within the historic church. I saw a headline today (I didn’t read the article. The headline was upsetting enough.); it read, “All Baptisms Performed by Phoenix Priest Invalid Because He Changed One Word.” Good grief!

Some of the apostles seemed to catch momentary glimpses of what was right; but they were inconsistent in their proclamation of it. Some of the early church fathers—I’m thinking specifically of Origen of Alexandria (c. 184 – c. 253)—seemed to get it right, at least part of the time. Of course, even this paragraph represents my own conviction that I’m right. (One difference is that I accept the human limitations described by the title of my blogsite: “Flawed Glass,” based on I Corinthians 13:12. I accept the possibility that I may be wrong.)

The purpose and objective of spiritual discipline—both individually and in community—is not to attain that divine love, but to experience what already is and always has been.[2]

But there’s that first mutation thing. From primordial wondering about things unseen, we humans have wanted to get it right. We have a need to be loved and accepted. We have a need to make sure we’re loved and accepted. We don’t want that faith and trust stuff, we want a solid guarantee! So we develop a binary “right/wrong” system by which we can be sure. Oral Roberts often said, “I know that I know that I know.”

So that first mutation is the move from trust to certitude. It’s not a new thing; it’s a throwback to a prehistoric human need to control the unknown. It is a rejection of faith and trust.

The truth is: nobody ever gets it right! That’s why we need grace. It’s not about being right. It never was. It’s about being loved and accepted by the source of all love. John got it right (I John 4:8): God is love!

Red, brown, yellow, black, white: you are loved! LGBTQ/Straight: you are loved! Republican/Democrat/Libertarian/Socialist/Communist: you are loved!

And here’s the thing: when we are experiencing love and acceptance, we are free from all that worry and anxiety about whether we’re “right.” The reason we wanted to be “right” in the first place was just to be loved and accepted. When we experience love we are free to love, without concern for ourselves and without concern about whether the recipient of our love is worthy, or whether our love will be returned. We already are loved!

The natural response to experienced love is to love in return. We worship the God who is Love with praise, adoration and thanksgiving, and we serve the God who is Love by loving the people God loves, which excludes nobody! Thanks be to God!

That’s the way it looks through the Flawed Glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk,

Jim

---

[1] Bruce Epperly, endorsing Mark Gregory Karris, Religious Refugees (Orange, California: Quoir, Kindle Edition, 2020) p. 4.

[2] I’m grateful for this insight discovered in David Artman, Grace Saves All: The Necessity of Christian Universalism (Wipf and Stock, an Imprint of Wipf and Stock Publishers. Kindle Edition 2020) p. 105.

Unresolved Concerns

Rules and laws are inversely proportional to trust: more rules indicate less trust, while a greater level of trust is indicated by a relative absence of rules.

Rules and laws usually come about in reaction to a hurtful interaction within a group, or to prevent its happening (again). Our United States Constitution was intended to prevent replication of the monarchial tyranny the Colonists fled and against which they rebelled. The Constitution essentially limits government by establishing boundaries beyond which it may not go; but within which it is free to act.

Two ideologies clashed at the Constitution Convention. Situational revisions aside, those two groups continue today. They were born in animosity and that animosity has increased. It’s amazing that the Constitution got finished![1]

One group bore an unqualified distrust of government, but trusted individuals to be responsible and ethical in their dealings. They stumped for minimal central government, preferring to give more power to state and local governing bodies. That perspective is extended into today’s conservative political system.

The other group distrusted the integrity of individuals, especially in regard to unregulated commerce and banking. They advocated a stronger central governmental regulation against the threat of economic oligarchy . Today’s liberal principles emerged from that foundation.

Both ideologies remain virtually absolute, with neither crediting anything good to the other. Few, if any, voices call for acknowledging any good in both, and there is an ominous absence of any effort to find common ground on which to build consensus on anything. No political balance or trust is to be found.

Rules and laws are meant to restrict the influence of whatever entity is mistrusted. The power pendulum swings from left to right, and back. Endless partisan adjustments to and rescinding of laws, and the institution of more laws are meant to shackle the mistrusted “other party.” The result today is a convoluted system of laws, many of them self-contradictory, which transcends most human comprehension.

But, lack of comprehension does not discourage the hostile debates that indicate a gross decrease in trust and a consequent need for power and control.

In a pioneering study in group dynamics, Jack Gibb and others named four primary concerns for evaluating the level of trust within a group’s culture. The concerns determine the level of trust formation,[2] regardless of the group’s size. The following graph offers a visual guide to understanding the aforementioned concerns:

Primary Concern	Derivative Concern	Symptoms of Unresolved Concern	Symptoms of Resolved Concern
Acceptance	Membership	Fear/Distrust/exclusion	Acceptance/Trust
Information Flow	Decision-making	Politeness/caution/ Strategy (often secretive or behind-the-back)	Spontaneity/feedback
Goal Formation	Productivity	Apathy/Competition (silencing innovation)	Enthusiasm/Creative work
Control	Organization	Dependency vs. a Counter-dependency that challenges for leadership	Interdependence/role distribution

In my opinion the dynamics in the column labeled “Symptoms of Unresolved Concern” is a portentous description of our beloved United States of America.

So, what is the source of the mistrust, and how do we overcome it? When in any kind of conflict resolution setting, the first question I always ask is, “Do you truly want to resolve the issue between you, or do you just want to win the fight?” I find little evidence on social media that anybody really wants to resolve anything.

I suggest the mistrust is a product of hurtful experiences in our past. As a child I was pulled off my bicycle and chewed on by a big dog and, to this day I grow anxious when a big dog approaches me. I’ve learned compensatory behaviors to defuse any threat; but the mistrust is still present—until a relationship is built.

If building a relationship is key to overcoming mistrust, some concerns must be considered. Trust, by definition involves risk. So does love, which I believe should be the ultimate goal and intention of all human interaction.

Trust and love require—indeed, they are defined by—vulnerability. There is risk of betrayal and rejection. The alternative is to insulate oneself from betrayal and grief, but the payoff is fear and distrust. So I repeat: trust and love require—indeed, they are defined by—vulnerability.

A second concern in building trust is re-learning the lost art of listening. I’m not sure I could be a good listener had I not had extensive training in counseling and in conflict resolution. Even with the training and years of experience, it doesn’t always come naturally. Often, I have to be intentional about flipping on the “LISTEN” switch.

Nevertheless, listening is a key requirement for building trust. Evidence is extensive on social media that people don’t really listen—not even when the message is written in clear script. Instead of listening, they are preparing their rebuttal (even though they may not—probably don’t—really know what’s been said). How many times, while reading a Facebook conversation, have you discovered, within relatively few exchanges, the focus has been diverted totally from the original topic?

Someone posts about compassion for the poor, and within two or three responses the conversation is diverted to how liberals are shoving a welfare state down our throats. The diversion kills a conversation that may have led to a charitable proposal acceptable to all concerned. And mistrust, if anything, has increased, along with animosity.

Or a Facebook conversation about compassion for immigrants is diverted to a condemnation vs. defense of President Trump’s wall. The conversation might—might—have been more productive if the responders had listened and stayed on the subject, which probably was a concern for national security and public safety. If the responders wanted to pontificate against the wall, they would be better advised to start their own conversation. But, then, in all likelihood that conversation would be diverted, too.

How on earth can we build trusting relationships if I don’t really know what you’re saying, and you don’t know what I’m saying? Without that knowledge, we’re left to assumption and opinion, neither of which is trustworthy. A portion of those on social media see something I’ve written and blow it off with, “Oh, he’s liberal; so, I already know what he’s saying.” And another opportunity for productive dialogue is missed. While I work hard to read and “hear” what is being said by most people on social media, I’m sure I slip into my “lazy” mode sometimes and make similar assumptions about my conservative friends.

At the infamous bottom line, while there is risk in trusting, there also is risk in listening. If I really hear you, I risk learning something new; indeed, I may hear something that requires me to reconsider previous convictions.

But, then, that would mean I’d have to admit I am, at least partially, wrong—that my opinions are not absolute. And that may be the greatest risk of all.

That’s the way I see it through the Flawed Glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk,

Jim

---

[1] In many ways, it’s not finished, even yet. As a living document it is adjusted according to ongoing needs.

[2] Leland P. Bradford, Jack R. Gibb, and Kenneth D. Benne, editors, T-Group Theory and Laboratory Method (New York: John Wiley and Sons, 1964)  

Rules vs. Trust

Rules and laws are inversely proportional to trust: more rules indicate less trust, while a greater level of trust is indicated by a relative absence of rules. 

Rules and laws usually come about in reaction to a hurtful interaction within a group, or to prevent its happening (again). Our United States Constitution was intended to prevent replication of the monarchial tyranny the colonists fled and against which they rebelled. The Constitution essentially limits government by establishing boundaries beyond which it may not go; but within which it is free to act.

Two ideologies clashed at the Constitution Convention. Situational revisions aside, those two groups continue today. They were born in animosity and that animosity has increased. It’s amazing that the Constitution got finished![1]

One group bore an unqualified distrust of government, but trusted individuals to be responsible and ethical in their dealings. They stumped for minimal central government, preferring to give more power to state and local governing bodies. That perspective is extended into today’s conservative political system.

The other group distrusted the integrity of individuals, especially in regard to unregulated commerce and banking. They advocated a stronger central governmental regulation against the threat of economic oligarchy . Today’s liberal principles emerged from that foundation.

Both ideologies remain virtually absolute, with neither crediting anything good to the other. Few, if any, voices call for acknowledging any good in both, and there is an ominous absence of any effort to find common ground on which to build consensus on anything. No political balance or trust is to be found.

Rules and laws are meant to restrict the influence of whatever entity is mistrusted. The power pendulum swings from left to right, and back. Endless partisan adjustments to and rescinding of laws, and the institution of more laws are meant to shackle the mistrusted “other party.” The result today is a convoluted system of laws, many of them self-contradictory, which transcends most human comprehension.

But, lack of comprehension does not discourage the hostile debates that indicate a gross decrease in trust and a consequent need for power and control.

In a pioneering study in group dynamics, Jack Gibb and others named four primary concerns for evaluating the level of trust within a group’s culture. The concerns determine the level of trust formation,[2] regardless of the group’s size. The following graph offers a visual guide to understanding the aforementioned concerns:

Primary Concern	Derivative Concern	Symptoms of Unresolved Concern	Symptoms of Resolved Concern
Acceptance	Membership	Fear/Distrust/exclusion	Acceptance/Trust
Information Flow	Decision-making	Politeness/caution/ Strategy (often secretive or behind-the-back)	Spontaneity/feedback
Goal Formation	Productivity	Apathy/Competition (silencing innovation)	Enthusiasm/Creative work
Control	Organization	Dependency/ Counterdependency that challenges for leadership	Interdependence/role distribution

In my opinion the dynamics in the column labeled “Symptoms of Unresolved Concern” is a portentous description of our beloved United States of America.

So, what is the source of the mistrust, and how do we overcome it?

I suggest the mistrust is a product of hurtful experiences in our past. As a child I was pulled off my bicycle and chewed on by a big dog and, to this day I grow anxious when a big dog approaches me. I’ve learned compensatory behaviors to defuse any threat; but the mistrust is still present—until a relationship is built.

If building a relationship is key to overcoming mistrust, some concerns must be considered. Trust, by definition involves risk. So does love, which I believe should be the ultimate goal and intention of all human interaction.

Trust and love require—indeed, they are defined by—vulnerability. There is risk of betrayal and rejection. The alternative is to insulate oneself from betrayal and grief, but the payoff is fear and distrust. So I repeat: trust and love require—indeed, they are defined by—vulnerability.

A second concern in building trust is re-learning the lost art of listening. I’m not sure I could be a good listener had I not had extensive training in counseling and in conflict resolution. Even with the training and years of experience, it doesn’t always come naturally. Often, I have to be intentional about flipping on the “LISTEN” switch. 

Nevertheless, listening is a key requirement for building trust. Evidence is rampant on social media that people don’t really listen—not even when the message is written in clear script. Instead of listening, they are preparing their rebuttal (even though they may not—probably don’t—really know what’s been said). How many times, while reading a Facebook conversation, have you discovered, within relatively few exchanges, the focus has been diverted totally from the original topic.

Someone posts about compassion for the poor, and within two or three responses the conversation is diverted to how liberals are shoving a welfare state down our throats. The diversion kills a conversation that may have led to a charitable proposal acceptable to all concerned. And mistrust, if anything, has increased, along with animosity.

Or a Facebook conversation about illegal immigration is diverted to a condemnation vs. defense of President Trump’s wall. The conversation might—might—have been more productive if the responders had listened and stayed on the subject, which probably was a concern for national security and public safety. If the responders wanted to pontificate against the wall, they would be better advised to start their own conversation. But, then, in all likelihood that conversation would be diverted, too.

How on earth can we build trusting relationships if I don’t really know what you’re saying, and you don’t know what I’m saying? Without that knowledge, we’re left to assumption and opinion, neither of which is trustworthy.

At the infamous bottom line, while there is risk in trusting, there also is risk in listening. If I really hear you, I risk learning something new; indeed, I may hear something that requires me to reconsider previous convictions. 

But, then, that would mean I’d have to admit I am, at least partially, wrong—that my opinions are not absolute. And that may be the greatest risk of all.

That’s the way I see it through the Flawed Glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk,

Jim

---

[1] In many ways, it’s not finished, even yet. As a living document it is adjusted according to ongoing needs.

[2] Leland P. Bradford, Jack R. Gibb, and Kenneth D. Benne, editors, T-Group Theory and Laboratory Method (New York: John Wiley and Sons, 1964)  

My 2016 Lenten Journey -- Day 9

February 18, 2016

My 2016 Lenten Journey: Exploring the Gospels to discover what following Jesus and becoming more like him would look like? ‘And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself” (John 12:32 NRSV).

The Sermon on the Mount continues: Matthew 5:17-20.

The Scribes and Pharisees were uber conservative, known for their self-righteous legalism. They believed it was possible to live a perfect life, and were pretty sure they were doing so. The trick, they believed, was to obey all the rules. There was a teaching that said if all of Israel would keep the law for one day, Messiah would come. But the distinction had become very vague between the laws of God and the rules of the Pharisees. And they weren’t the same thing!

From early on it seemed to them that Jesus played fast and loose with the law. Social conventions (including religion) tend to become ends in themselves, at which time they generally become counterproductive. Such was the case with the Scribes and Pharisees in their obsession with perfection.

The Pharisees obsessed over observing the letter of their rules and then boasting of their righteousness. Jesus said they missed the point. The tail was wagging the dog. He said, “Unless your righteousness exceeds that of the Scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (vs. 20).

Jesus didn’t discount the law; indeed, he said the dotting of every “I” and the crossing of every “t” would be kept with integrity “until all is accomplished” (vs. 18). Until what is accomplished? What was God up to? Obviously the Scribes and Pharisees didn’t know—in spite of their attempts to make it all happen through their own efforts.

I’ve read the last chapter; so I think I know. But, could it be that my efforts to figure it all out fall as short as theirs? Perhaps I should simply celebrate the mystery and follow Jesus, trusting that where he leads is where God’s purpose is accomplished.

“Whoever has seen me has seen the Father” (John 14:9 NRSV)

“And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself” (John 12:32 NRSV).

That's the way it looks through the flawed glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk,

Jim

Trust is the Opposite of Certainty

We have seen that Jesus interpreted Scripture in the rabbinic spirit of faithful questioning motivated by love. We have noted that Jesus’ interpretation of Scripture was in direct contrast to that of the Pharisees and other religious leaders of his time, who read the Scriptures in a spirit of unquestioning obedience and were motivated by an obsession with correct doctrine. The Pharisees were concerned about who was “right” and who was “wrong,” and were determined to enforce their “right” understanding, even if such an effort required violence.

We have said that over the centuries the Church has tended not to follow the pattern of Jesus, but rather to follow the pattern of the Pharisees, striving to maintain orthodoxy and labeling those who disagree as heretics. The result has been a long history of various manifestations of the church enforcing their authority through violence or the threat of violence—all in God’s name.

The struggle to know what is “right” has replaced Grace as the foundation of faith. In far too many cases our trust is more in the correctness of our doctrine than in the Grace of God. Such an application of religious faith establishes an “us vs. them” mentality, which always leans toward an exclusionary witness and far too often is forcefully inflicted.

While the exclusionary witness establishes categories for judging who is acceptable and who is not, Jesus’ witness was to go out among the outcasts and the fringe people—to eat with them, to touch them and through loving inclusion to restore their lives to wholeness. Too often our approach has been to demand that those on the outside become “like us” before they can gain admission and acceptance. Our doctrine becomes "the way, the truth and the life."

We all read Scripture selectively, and justification can indeed be found for both approaches. They stand in direct contradiction within the Holy writ, and we choose one way or the other:

1.       The way the Pharisees chose: unquestioning obedience to what they had determined to be the “right” doctrine (Law), and enforcing that doctrine as the prerequisite of faithfulness—excluding (and sometimes punishing with violence or threat of violence) all who do not conform (including Jesus).

2.      The way Jesus chose: faithful questioning the violence in Scripture and bearing witness to unconditional love (Grace), including all humanity in a divine embrace of reconciliation and restoration. All humanity. And "All" means "All."

Our celebrated First Amendment rights which grant freedom of speech and religion actually came about in direct response to the church’s legacy of persecution and rampant bloodshed committed in the sincere (but sincerely wrong) effort to maintain purity of doctrine. As a result of those Constitutional rights, there are no more burnings at the stake today.

So, what is the greater wrong: not getting the formulation of the Trinity quite right, or slaughtering those who do get it wrong? What is the greater sin: questioning a doctrine or working to destroy people’s careers and livelihoods because they question it?

Equally important as what we profess is how we profess it and how we live what we profess. When we act in any way to harm others in the name of Scripture or faith or morality we demonstrate that we are neither scriptural, moral nor faithful. Jesus said the whole law and the prophetic writings were predicated upon love of God, love of neighbor and love of self (Matthew 22:36-40). And Paul wrote, “Love does no harm to a neighbor. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law” (Romans 13:10) When we do not act in love, nothing we do is right, and nothing is faithful, not even according to the law.

The simple formula of the New Testament witness is “Grace Trumps Law.” It’s simple; but it’s not easy. It requires that we “let go” of our efforts to justify ourselves through adherence to “right” doctrine, and that we instead “take hold” of the Grace God offers and surrender to the power of that Grace to mold us into the likeness of Jesus. That whole process of “letting go” and “taking hold” is called “Trust.” Trust is the opposite of certainty, and certainty is a first cousin of control.

And we are a culture of control addicts. Maybe we need a 12-Step program to facilitate recovery. “Hello. My name is Jim; and I’m a controlaholic.”

That’s the way I see it through the flawed glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk,

Jim

What's In A Name?

A few days ago a Facebook friend posted the following :

While he and I disagree on almost every element of political ideology, we still are able to maintain a healthy respect and love for one another—I suspect because neither of us takes ourself with ultimate seriousness. 

We’re also cousins, and we realize that our relationship is more important than any issue that may arise between us.

I understand his post. I don’t agree with it, and think it presents half-truths and inaccuracies; but I understand the feelings behind it because I have very similar feelings myself; therefore, I have undertaken to respond in kind:

      WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?

I’m UNAMERICAN for not being an “Obama Basher”.

I’m a TRAITOR because I favor accountability for gun ownership.

I’m a LEFTIST for supporting the whole Constitution, and not just that part that undergirds my political ideology.

I’m a NATIONAL SECURITY THREAT (plus, I’m unfriended by 14 Facebook “friends”, and blocked by 6 others) because I speak my mind.

I’m a TROUBLEMAKER for asking unanswered questions.

I’m NAÏVE AND GULLIBLE because I dare accept the documentation of the President.

I’m a COMMUNIST for exposing the corruption in the American corporate world.

I’m A CONSPIRATOR for presenting documented facts (which nobody will accept unless he or she already agrees with them).

I’m ANTI-AMERICAN for not toeing the party line. [Sorry. I’m also a Grammar Nazi, and “towing” means to pull.]

I’m UNAMERICAN because I support the troops but not necessarily the political corruption that puts them in harm’s way.

I’m a SOCIALIST because…

1.      …while I believe I’m entitled to what I earn (which, incidentally, includes Social Security, Medicare and Veterans’ Benefits), I don’t’ believe I have a right to intrude on others’ rights or wellbeing in the process of earning it.

2.     …I believe there are people who legitimately need the safety net of Food Stamps, unemployment and other public assistance programs.

3.     …I believe it’s unjust to remove a public assistance program because some people abuse it. Humans can always find a loophole, and nothing is so pure that it does not have its pornographers.

4.     …I believe in protecting the innocent at all costs, even if in the process some of the guilty “get away with something,” and I don’t believe in punishing all the guilty at all costs IF IN THE PROCESS some of the innocent are harmed.

5.     …I believe the abuse of public assistance programs should be eliminated as much as possible; but without depriving those with legitimate needs from their benefits.

6.     …I believe, related to public assistance programs, that fraud and abuse are relatively small, and that fraud is much heavier at the administrative level than at the receiving level.

7.    … I support labor (but not necessarily unions).

8.    …because I believe human need always trumps political or economic ideology.

Now, the original post ends with an antagonistic, “So what?” I’d like to pursue that “so what?”

1.     So, there are two sides to every issue, and every person deserves to have his or her side heard, understood and respected.  

2.    So, name-calling is a useless exercise that accomplishes nothing good, and accomplishes much harm.

3.    So, until we decide as a society that our ideological log-jam is the greatest immediate threat to our unity and security, we will continue to be a house divided.

4.    So, as long as a substantial population of Americans believes, “I’m totally right about everything and anyone who disagrees with me is totally wrong and is an idiot (or whatever name comes to mind),” we will continue to be a house divided.

And you know what is said by so many, including the Lord of Christianity, about a house divided: “It will not stand.” At this point in history I am much more afraid of our own obstinacy than I am afraid of any outside threat.

There are proven ways of negotiating and collaborating and finding common ground upon which to build. But all of them require that we let go of our absolutism and that we give valid effort to find something good in those with whom we disagree. 

The first step to unity is a question: “What if I’m wrong?”

That’s how I see it through the flawed glass that is my world view.

Together in the Walk,

Jim