Weaponizing Goodness

A friend posted this article, which tells a lovely story about the new pope making a point of calling in person to cancel his newspaper subscription, along with a snarky political comment. I also noticed that the article itself is followed by some snarky political comments.

It is a beautiful story about human connection and humility. Why can't we just let a story like this wash over us and inspire us? Why do we have to turn the example he sets into a weapon and use it to condemn others?

A Simple Miracle

I stole the following from an anonymous friend, written in 2010.

"Reflecting on the story of the loaves and fishes, I realized that the miracle of the story might be as simple as Jesus asking for help and finding one boy who was willing to share. Perhaps heaven didn't need to provide the bread and fish. Perhaps other people, who had food but were keeping it for themselves, watched the boy, felt the spirit and had a change of heart. Perhaps when they all shared--when they all took a moment to think about other's needs--there was more than enough food for everyone. Perhaps the lesson Jesus needed to teach was how we can solve our problems if we work together. With the fear and anger in our communities, perhaps the miracle we need most is the miracle of changing hearts."

Eden

The story of Adam and Eve is to me a metaphor for the development of human consciousness, when we shifted from operating on instinct to becoming sentient beings who began to understand our world on a whole new level. We became aware of our actions and the actions of others. We became aware of the impact of all of those actions, for both good and evil. We became children of God.

I think, to our detriment, we've been trying to create the bubble of protection we sense we had in the Garden of Eden ever since. 

It can manifest itself in different ways for different people. We search out and cling to pat answers. We don't face hard things straight on. We create dogmatic systems of rules that lull us into believing we're doing something good when we follow them. We refuse to listen to people who don't see things the way we do. We whitewash history (of our faith, of our nation, of ourselves) because that is more soothing than owning up to and learning from mistakes. We resist commitment (to people, to ideas, to meaningful work). We use what we earn not just to sustain us, but to make ourselves comfortable. We ignore things that make us uncomfortable. We separate ourselves from people we view as sinners. Or who are different from us.

We fear knowledge, the fruit of the tree.

Instead of following the admonition to live IN the world, but not OF the world, we want the safety of living ON the world, but not IN the world. Engaging is painful and messy and dangerous.

We think we are protecting ourselves, enabling us to get through this life unscathed and on to the next. But instead we miss out on true spiritual growth. We miss out on life.

Another Day, Another Meme

Maybe this sounds good in theory. Maybe. But I can tell you from experience that making such a distinction can get really muddy really quickly in practice. It's not always easy to judge who is needy and who is simply lazy.

For example, hopelessness often presents itself as laziness.

And there's this: when we put so many barriers into place in our attempt to make sure that the undeserving don't get something they don't deserve, we often fail in our goal to help people when they really need it.

Siege Mentality

Nearly every semester I have at least one student who writes about some aspect of gun control. One hundred percent of them have been pro gun ownership.

Last year, shortly after the Utah State Legislature passed a law that made it legal for people with concealed weapons permits to carry guns on public college campuses, a couple of students wanted to focus on that.

A few weeks into their research, one of my students came to me, dismayed.

"I thought I'd turn up more data than not to support my opinion that more guns in the hands of law-abiding citizens will make us more safe," he said. "But I'm finding it's a bit of a draw." (Okay, so that last bit wasn't his exact phrasing, but I'd have laughed at the pun if he said it that way.)

According to his findings, sometimes people are safer if someone has a gun, and sometimes people are in more danger. It can go either way, and there aren't enough instances of public shootings or attempted shootings to make a definitive claim one way or the other.

We talked about what the options could be if the data he was turning up was inconclusive. Ultimately, he proposed a thesis that stated if that is the case, we must err on the side of the Second Amendment. His position was sane and well reasoned, and, because he had learned about situations that flew in the face of his original opinion, he was not afraid to address legitimate safety concerns. While he argued that people with concealed weapons permits should be free to carry a gun on campus, he also argued that the process involved in issuing concealed weapons permits should be wisely regulated.

At the end of the semester, I had to ask him if he ever carried on campus. Turns out he did. Every single day.

Personally, I told him, I would not choose to carry a weapon like that. I would not want to live with an ever present reminder of a threat that would most likely never materialize. It would make me more fearful, less free. I think he felt empowered. I would feel imprisoned. I'd rather take my chances.

On the other hand, now that my students are armed . . .

Fetishizing Self Reliance

I want to start out this post by saying very clearly that I believe in the principle of meeting our own needs whenever possible, especially so we can be in a better position to provide assistance to others. Providing for ourselves, living within our means, all of it. It's personally satisfying, and it's good citizenship. Both of my jobs involve helping people get to a place of self reliance.

But I wonder if the value we place on self reliance is causing us to lose important perspective. Too many voices I hear are becoming more judgmental and less charitable. And they are getting louder.

The other day I was talking with someone who represents a private religious charity that provides temporary aid for people who have no place to go (a few nights of shelter, a change of clothes, a bus token). He mentioned that they'd discovered a particular client had managed to get help from several of their offices to the tune of hundreds and hundreds of dollars. What should they do with clients like him? Clients who are becoming dependent?

Turns out I've met the particular client he was referring to. He's a man who has brain damage from being shot in the head twice.

He is becoming dependent!? That is the main concern?

When on earth did Jesus ever say to give to the poor unless, of course, you are concerned that they are becoming dependent?

Heaven help us!

We Delude Ourselves

Four years ago I had a student in my freshman composition course who focused his research on answering the question of whether the United States has been justified in its military actions over the past 20 or 30 years.

He looked into some of the major or most well known conflicts (Bosnia, Somalia, the first Gulf War, Afghanistan and Iraq) and concluded that each decision to engage was worth the cost in blood and treasure.

I didn't push back like I might have under other circumstances. In this case, he had enlisted in the military himself and wanted to be sure he was doing something he could believe in. I still wonder if I made the right choice about that.

The truth is I don't believe the U.S. has been justified in all of its military actions over the years. Of course, we should defend ourselves. But we seem to have stretched the meaning of the word defend pretty darn thin.

Preemptive war to stop Iraq from developing weapons of mass destruction. Protecting against the theoretical falling of theoretical communist dominoes. Protecting business interests in the middle east and Latin America.

Killing innocents and risking the lives of soldier surrogates to protect the profits of a small percentage of people is not even remotely the moral equivalent of protecting our homes and families.