intramuralist ™

I’m starting to believe people enjoy using the word “great” succeeded by a major, significant noun to make the phenomena sound really big… ie. the “Great Depression,” the “The Great British Baking Show,” or the Covid-prompted “great resignation.” Today’s discussed “great” is the “great realignment,” identified recently by Axios’s Josh Kraushaar (who is quoted below) as “arguably the biggest political story of our time… Republicans are becoming more working class and a little more multiracial. Democrats are becoming more elite and a little more white.” The parties are changing. Why?

Allow us to again wrestle with the words of respected author and economist David French: 

“There’s talk of realignment in the air. If you think all the way back to 2012, you might remember a certain phrase—the coalition of the ascendant. This was the Obama coalition, the collection of all of America’s growing demographics, from nonwhite voters to single women. The Romney voters, by contrast, were fading. White, Christian, and married, they were the demographic losers in a population that was becoming both more diverse and more secular. Democratic dominance was inevitable.

That analysis should have caused us to feel a certain looming dread. Nations that use race or ethnicity as the organizing principle of politics are often quite unstable, and quite violent. This is true across the world, and it’s true in our own land. Systematic racial division and oppression fractured the country once. It’s foolish to think it couldn’t fracture again—especially when the political class intentionally mobilizes voters to vote as a racial bloc.

Optimistic Democrats didn’t see Donald Trump’s victory in 2016 so much as a refutation of the coalition of the ascendant theory as a quirk of the electoral college and a reminder that Hillary Clinton wasn’t Barack Obama. The nation wasn’t quite majority-minority yet, and thus that the white majority could still win races when identity politics reign supreme. 

But 2020 told a different tale. The Democrats got whiter, the Republicans got more diverse, and now all the assumptions are scrambled. Donald Trump lost the popular vote by a far wider margin than he did in 2016, but he did materially better with Hispanic, Asian, and black voters. In fact, Trump did better than Romney with nonwhite voters in 2016 (an improvement then mainly attributed to Hillary Clinton’s weaknesses), and he improved on that showing in 2020. What was once seen as an aberration now looks like a trend.

The trend continues. Last week Axios’s Josh Kraushaar described an ongoing ‘seismic shift’ in the two parties’ coalitions. As outlined in a New York Times/Siena College poll, ‘Democrats now have a bigger advantage with white college graduates than they do with nonwhite voters.’ The Democratic Party’s losses with Hispanics are remarkable. Whereas Obama won 71% of the Hispanic vote in 2012, and Biden won 65% in 2020, now the Hispanic vote is ‘statistically tied.’

Moreover, there are good reasons to believe that Hispanic voters will continue to migrate to the GOP. As Ruy Teixeira described this week on his Substack, comprehensive issue polling from Echelon Insights demonstrates that strong progressives have substantially different political and cultural views from Hispanics.

Hispanic voters are far more likely to believe that America is ‘the greatest country in the world,’ far less likely to support defunding the police, far less likely to believe ‘racism is built into our society,’ and far less likely to believe that transgender athletes should play on sports teams that match their current gender identity. In most cases, the polling gap is just immense. 

What accounts for such monumental differences in beliefs in values? As my colleague Jonah Goldberg often (and rightly) says, we should reject monocausal explanations for complex social phenomena, but here’s a factor that simply isn’t discussed enough. The Democratic Party has a huge ‘God gap,’ and that God gap is driving a wedge between its white and nonwhite voters…

A party that’s culturally disconnected from (or perhaps even scornful of) traditional religious faith is going to alienate itself from tens of millions of voters it could otherwise reach. The danger to the nation is a version of the same danger represented by ethnic identity politics. If there’s one thing that can fracture a nation as thoroughly as ethnic division, it’s religious strife. The historical examples—from Catholic/Protestant to Hindu/Muslim to Sunni/Shiite—are too numerous to count. Indeed, we’re watching a great power war unfold in eastern Europe that’s motivated at least in part by profound religious animus. Our nation will be far, far healthier if we don’t divide on sharp religious lines. 

Religious conflict and political religious separation is also dangerous to religion itself. Turning one party into the ‘faith party’ not only risks repeating many of the compromises of the Trump era (many Christians saw supporting the GOP as their only real choice), it also risks melding together faith and power and faith and ideology in deeply destructive ways. 

Countless political and cultural issues don’t have a clear ‘Christian’ policy solution, yet when a party’s members perceive it to be the party of American Christianity, then the platform is wrongly infused with religious fervor, even on issues (like tax rates, gun policy, environmental policy, foreign policy, and countless others) where the correct religious answer is far from clear…

The future is not yet written. Both parties are at a crossroads. There is time for secular progressives to understand that Christians (including especially the black church) are an indispensable element of the progressive coalition. At the very least secular Americans should demonstrate respect and real tolerance for traditional religious beliefs…

Conservative Evangelicals—who come disproportionately from the South—have a real opportunity to turn the page on generations of terrible sin. Why are black Christians still so politically separated from the white church? Because for centuries all too many white Christians viewed their black brothers and sisters less through the lens of a common faith and more through the bigoted lens of a different race. It was white identity politics that separated the church, and its lingering legacy is a roadblock to unity today.

While Hispanic Americans don’t share the same history as black Christians, the hateful and fearful language around immigration (including, for example, ‘replacement theory’ discourse) causes too many Republican Christians to view Hispanic immigrants more as a political threat and less as brothers and sisters who likely share the same faith.

In December 2016, the executive editor of the New York Times, Dean Baquet, famously told NPR’s Terry Gross, ‘We don’t get religion. We don’t get the role of religion in people’s lives…’

But if we don’t ‘get religion’ we won’t fully get the seismic shift in American politics. America is a multi-ethnic, multi-faith, and deeply religious republic. If one or both parties can embrace each element of that reality, then we have a chance to make sure that seismic shift moves our politics towards the respectful pluralism that America requires.”

David French… always makes me think… of someone more than me.

Respectfully…

AR

Let me start by acknowledging I’m really not qualified to write this. It’s not because I’m not a boy, as let’s be honest, no one gender, ethnicity, etc. can speak for all others of the same demographic — a point we oft ignore.

I also am not qualified even though I have semi-successfully/semi-not co-parented three solid young men of said age. My experience does not equate to expertise — another oft missed reality.

Perhaps what would most make me qualified to write would be if I were some sort of licensed professional counselor. I work with many… but alas, I am not.

Hence, I write not from a place of omniscience nor even competency. I’m simply sharing an impassioned perspective… dare I suggest, one more framework of sharing we oft fail to disclose. We’re passionate. Reasoned. We have solid opinions, perspective, even conviction. However, we do not know all. No matter how impassioned we may be.

I keep looking at the gun issue… the violence issue… the evil. Actually, I somberly appreciate that there is indeed a collective heartache across the country when it happens. No one wants it to happen. We just don’t know how to stop it.

I thought it again this most recent weekend, as the incident occurred in my high school stomping grounds.

I therefore also appreciate the valiant efforts to make the violence stop. While persons disagree on which gun control efforts are effective — which thoughts and prayers are vital — the reality is that each wants the awfulness to stop. To be clear, there are spaces and places to have that respectful debate; sometimes that’s been here. But today, this is not one of those places. I want to honestly wrestle with a sobering, different question…

Why is it that the profile of the shooter is often a 20-something man? (FYI: According to the FBI’s analysis of active mass shooters in 2021, 98% were male, and 57% were under the age of 35.) Few women mess with mass shootings. We also aren’t seeing many men in even some midlife crisis. In the mass shooting — meaning a minimum of three or four victims of gun violence (not including the shooter) in a public place — why is it typically a young man?

Whether it’s the isolated mass incidents or the weekends of many urban streets, why is the shooter — the perpetrator of violence — most frequently in recent years, a 20-something man?

What’s in that young man’s head that makes him think this is ok?

It makes me ask what we’re teaching the young men in today’s society. What cues from culture are they getting that confuse them so? … that make them think that such an abhorrent activity could be wanted or wise in absolutely any possible way?

You’ll remember I said I wasn’t really qualified to write this. I’m not sure who exactly is. For if we knew what it was and we knew how to control or to at least limit the manifestation of evil, we would do so. So let us ask a few questions of the person whose brain may still be forming…

What do they believe about themselves?

Do they see themselves more highly than they ought?

What’s most important to them?

How do they view other people? Do they respect all others? Believe in serving others?

Why don’t they value all human life?

Have we taught them to hate anyone or any one demographic?

Have we taught them another’s thinking, opposition or even existence matters less?

Are they entitled? Are they lost? Are they too isolated?

Who do they trust?

Where does their value system come from? Have we somehow taught them that whatever they believe is good and right and true?

What do they think it means to be male?

Do they know what it means to be a wise father?

Do they have a faith? Do they find identity in being God’s kid or in something lesser?

Do they have healthy community? Do they know that accountability, respectful submission and authority are good?

And where do they turn for help when they are confused inside? Is it even ok to admit they are confused? … hurting? … that they don’t have life all figured out? … that they each indeed do matter? … always?

Only questions, friends… no judgment. Just trying to understand. Obviously, our culture is knowingly or unknowingly giving cues to our kids that are somehow confusing. I cannot assume to know what nor why nor how all of the above succinctly and specifically applies. I’m not qualified.

But our lack of qualification shouldn’t deter the asking of the complicated question.

Respectfully…

AR

For the last five years a wise mentor has repeatedly asked me about the above, bold question. Not only has he asked me the question, he’s also stayed put for the answer. He didn’t run when he received feedback that wasn’t fun. He didn’t deny when he heard a response that was hard. There was no trigger to flee or fight. He craved wisdom. Growth. He thus has always remained present and asked sincere questions of what he doesn’t understand.

Help me learn more…

I’ve learned much through our frequent give-and-take process. It’s been so insightful, I’ve written much about it here. The question:

What’s it like to be on the other side of me?

I love the key behaviors embedded in the learning… staying present and put, not running, no denial. Asking questions of what we don’t understand.

The beauty of such an interaction is that it sharpens us both…

No judgment. No shame. No arrogance whatsoever.

I observe, too, a competing phenomenon — when we fail to be simultaneously bold and humble enough to ask the above question…

When we really don’t care what it’s like to be on the other side of us…

Sadly, we lose credibility. 

When we’re mad as hell and don’t give a damn, so-to-speak, in regard to what we say, how we say it, and who it hurts, the person on the other side of us makes a fairly firm conclusion….

They have no desire to be like us…

… think like us…

… or adopt any aspect of our point of view.

Who is attracted to the one who leads with judgment, shame or arrogance?

Who is attracted to the one who thinks they have it all figured out and only the one on the other side of them needs to grow and change?

And who wants to think like the one whose passions and politics have blinded themselves to the beauty of relationship? … community, too… 

Friends, there are a plethora of passionate opinions out there. This is true on all sides… from all 360° angles… maybe more. But let me humbly propose a tiny nugget of wisdom. When we engage and interact with judgment, shame or arrogance, the person on the other side of us isn’t all that thrilled to be there. When we drown out or demonize, the person on the other side of us has zero desire to be like us. In any capacity. 

We aren’t making a positive difference.

It’s thus been a sad couple of weeks. We’ve seen the echo chambers huddling; we’ve seen them even be blind to what they actually are.

What if instead of hanging out in insulated groups where we rhetorically bully the different, we instead asked questions of what we disagree with, don’t understand or both?

… What if we stated our opinions in ways that refrained from making character judgments?

… What if we processed perspectives without attacking another’s integrity?

… And what if we really were a tolerant people? Because let’s face it. We aren’t.

It’s been a fascinating few weeks, we’ve said — but fascinating in not necessarily a good way. It’s amazing all the people who claim to stand for something so moral and just — on all sides — but then turn around and attack another. Sorry, but my sense is that such equates to not being quite so moral nor just.

So as the discussions continue, maybe we should be bold — and yes, humble — enough to ask: 

“Tell me… what’s it like to be on the other side of me?”

Then respond with grace. Compassion and questions, too.

And then maybe, just maybe, we’ll each make a little more positive difference in the world…

Respectfully…

AR

Allow me to confess something I’ve said sincerely and humbly in private circles. In order for our country to really be the land of the free and the home of the brave and a place we can each be proud to call “the beautiful,” we need wise leadership. 

My faith is not in any one person. My faith is also not in any one party. No person is so capable and no party is so full of integrity.

My sense is simply as a country we would benefit immensely from wise leaders who are consistent in communicating what is good and right and true… who are men and women of unquestionable honor, who will adhere to the Constitution, who fully comprehend the issues, who work not to deflect all blame, and who will resist the urge to appease their party’s political fringe.

Let me be sincere but bolder still… For our leaders to lead wisely and well, we shouldn’t have to sacrifice either compassion or competency. With sincere, all due respect to our two most recent presidents, this obvious lack has hurt us.

I find myself wishing for the insight and wisdom of presidents past — imperfect still, as each of them were. But we can be encouraged and learn, for example, from the relationship between former presidents Bill Clinton and George W. Bush. As first published five years ago by Perri Konecky:

“Bill Clinton may have beaten George W. Bush’s father in the 1992 presidential election, but the two former presidents seemingly have a unique and fascinating friendship. During a forum at the George W. Bush Presidential Library on Thursday, July 13, the two discussed their bond… they discussed importance of unity and ‘humility’ in the Oval Office.”

[Intramuralist note: emphasis on unity and humility.]

“As for Clinton’s close friendship with Bush’s father, Bush said, ‘It starts with Bill Clinton being a person who refused to lord his victory over Dad. He was humble in victory, which is very important in dealing with other people. Dad was willing to rise above the political contest. It starts with the individual’s character and both men, in my judgment, displayed strong character.’

‘Why do I have a friendship with him?’ Bush asked of his bipartisan bromance with Clinton. ‘Well, he’s called a brother with a different mother’…

‘If you want to be president, realize it’s about the people, not about you,’ Clinton said. ‘You want to be able to say ‘things were better off when I quit, kids had a better future, things were coming together.’ A lot of these people who are real arrogant in office, they forget . . . . You don’t want to say, ‘God, look at all the people I beat.’

The men also referenced the advice former presidents pass down to their successors. George Bush Sr. gave Clinton advice about being the commander in chief, and Clinton did the same when George W. Bush was elected president after his two terms. Bush did the same for Barack Obama, which also explains the warm relationship Bush and Michelle Obama share.

The two reflected on the power of the presidency in their conversation. ‘The decisions you make have a monumental effect on people,’ Bush said. ‘Presidency is often defined by the unexpected. It makes the job interesting.’”

Oh, what we can learn from previous leadership…

Noting what’s important…

Humility. Strong character.

Knowing it’s about the totality of the people — not about the person or President.

How to handle the unexpected.

Not deflecting all blame.

Never sacrificing compassion nor competency. Ever. Making no excuses for one or the other.

Just pondering today, friends… always craving what’s better and more… what brings us together… and focusing on what’s good and right and true.

Respectfully…

AR

Thank you, Charlie Puth, for your 2016 Nine Track Mind hit…

We don’t talk anymore

We don’t talk anymore

We don’t talk anymore

Like we used to do

We don’t love anymore

What was all of it for?

Oh, we don’t talk anymore

Like we used to do

We have trouble with the most basic of things. Why? Maybe because we can’t talk. We talk intelligently, maybe, sometimes, but also inflammatorily, disrespectfully, arrogantly, partisanly, etc. etc. Oh, we don’t talk anymore like we used to.

Note the Supreme Court recent ruling in Kennedy v. Bremerton School District, objectively summarized by Ballotpedia:

• The case: High school football coach Joseph Kennedy prayed at midfield following the conclusion of games. The school district told Kennedy this violated school board policy and required him to stop so as not to violate the Constitution’s establishment clause. Kennedy stated that he would not comply. The school district attempted to accommodate Kennedy’s expressions, but Kennedy declined the offers and prayed on the field again after two more games. Kennedy was placed on administrative leave. Kennedy sued the school in U.S. district court for violating his right to free speech. The court ruled that the school district suspended Kennedy solely to avoid violating the establishment clause. The Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals upheld the judgment.
• The issue: The case concerned religious expression at a public school and the Constitution’s establishment clause.
• The questions presented: 1. Whether a public-school employee who says a brief, quiet prayer by himself while at school and visible to students is engaged in government speech that lacks any First Amendment protection. 2. Whether, assuming that such religious expression is private and protected by the Free Speech and Free Exercise Clauses, the Establishment Clause nevertheless compels public schools to prohibit it.
• The outcome: The court reversed the decision of the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 9th Circuit and held that a coach praying on-field after a football game is an activity protected by the First Amendment.

To ensure we are unambiguous in our representation of this situation, initially Mr. Kennedy prayed on his own. Over time, some players asked if they could pray alongside him. Kennedy responded by saying, “This is a free country. You can do what you want.” Most of the team ended up voluntarily joining him. This occurred for over 7 years with no voiced complaints.

Note also for the purposes of accurate discussion: the U.S. Supreme Court has consistently banned school-sponsored prayer in public schools. But this wasn’t school-sponsored; it was the appearance of school-sponsored prayer.

Hence… was the prayer actually private? Was it public? Did players participate voluntarily? Do they have the right? Were students in any way coerced? Was peer pressure involved? Does that matter? Was the public school system endorsing religion?

Also reasonable questions… Was this an erosion of the separation of church and state? How much does voluntary matter? What’s the relationship between prayer and free speech?

(And for us personally…) Where are we inconsistent in our application of free speech? How much does my alignment or lack of it with the cause impact my judgment of what’s constitutionally protected?

We’re trying to always get to what’s good and right and true, friends. So how do we talk constructively about what this is and what it isn’t? How does the freedom of expression of religion apply? I’d love to get to what’s healthy/not about said decisions and minimize those partisan rhetorical pockets.

As Wendi Hendricks said last week as a contributor to Real Clear Policy, “For perhaps the first time in America’s history, you can’t express a difference of opinion without fear of being shunned by your friends, disowned by your family, let go from your job, and canceled on social media.” We now have trouble with even the freest of speech.

Why? Because…

We don’t talk anymore

We don’t talk anymore

Like we used to do…

Oh, it’s such a shame

That we don’t talk anymore.

Respectfully… always…

Ann

The Intramuralist wrote about respected economist David French’s eye-opening book, “Divided We Fall,” addressing potential secession… two years ago. Note what the author so poignantly shares now, as written recently in The Dispatch:

“… I’m growing increasingly wary of the binary analysis of American life. The more I travel this country post-pandemic, the more I encounter the third faction—the ‘exhausted majority’ first identified by More in Common’s ’Hidden Tribes’ survey all the way back in 2018. Under this analysis, America isn’t just red and blue. It’s red and blue and just plain tired.

Who are these tired Americans? The polling answer from the survey is the two-thirds of our neighbors and citizens (from across the political spectrum) who are fed up with polarization, forgotten in public discourse, flexible in their views, and still believe we can find common ground…

The exhausted American is in my email inbox, writing personal, anguished letters about lost relationships. The radicalized American is in my Twitter feed, furious at any deviation from the party line. The radicalized American is capturing institutions, making life miserable for dissenters left or right. The exhausted American doesn’t know where to go. Who speaks for them?

The exhausted American does not make a religion out of politics, and is thus at a disadvantage when confronting the ferocity and zeal of the true political believer. 

The exhausted American is hungry for simple decency, and will seek out friendships on the left and the right, so long as respect trumps differences. Even the most extreme disagreements are manageable so long as a friend is willing to listen and learn, and you’re willing to listen and learn in return. 

The exhausted majority is also the hope for America. 

Make no mistake, the answer is not found in the polarized wings. Each side has too much animosity to reach any kind of accommodation and too little power to achieve any kind of permanent triumph. In my book, I posited that federalism could be an answer to our political divide, but partisan animosity has grown so great that state governments are wielding local power in the service of national fights. 

State legislation has become both performative and punitive, with a focus on rewarding friends and punishing enemies. California, for example, currently bans state-funded and state-sponsored travel to 20 American states, a form of economic sanction designed to punish states that California deems insufficiently protective of LGBT rights. Florida has enacted a broad range of laws that purport to crack down on ‘wokeness’ and punish expression with which the state disagrees. 

But what happens when the exhausted majority gets just a little bit energetic? It can check the excesses of left and right. In San Francisco an exhausted progressive majority recalled radical school board members and a radical district attorney. In the Southern Baptist Convention, an exhausted conservative majority has now twice turned back a politically radicalized and vocal fundamentalist wing that would transform the SBC into a MAGA denomination. 

I know and have met people who both organized and voted for the San Francisco recall. I know and have met people who resisted the fundamentalist takeover of the SBC. And the two groups share something important in common. While they’re both political in the sense that they have political values, politics is ultimately less important to their day-to-day lives than it is to their most motivated opponents. 

Invariably this means that the exhausted majority’s political engagement is more occasional or episodic than it is constant or relentless. The polarized wings never rest. The exhausted majority stirs itself when the situation is dire, exerts its will, and then returns to its true passions—whether that’s family, work, or faith. 

There was a time when I lived my life on the polarized wings. I spent more time worried about ‘the left’ than I spent thinking through what part my partisanship played in fraying the American social fabric. I saw the triumph of my political foes as a greater threat to the nation than the partisan conflict itself. 

I now hold a different view, one that’s closer to the view of America’s wisest founders at their most prescient moments. George Washington, in his farewell address, warned his countrymen against the dangers of factionalism and regionalism. James Madison, in Federalist 10, warned against the ‘violence of faction.’

Abraham Lincoln, the indispensable architect of America’s second founding, told the Young Men’s Lyceum of Springfield, Illinois, ‘At what point then is the approach of danger to be expected? I answer, if it ever reach us, it must spring up amongst us. It cannot come from abroad. If destruction be our lot, we must ourselves be its author and finisher. As a nation of freemen, we must live through all time, or die by suicide.’

I’m concerned about our national union. I’m more concerned than I was when I wrote my book warning about the possibility of secession. But I also know that the solution to our challenge is hiding in plain sight. It’s the great bulk of the American people—the fed up, forgotten, flexible Americans who span the ideological spectrum yet don’t completely identify as red or blue. 

This July Fourth, I’m both proud to be an American and convinced that our best days can still lie ahead of us. But not if we’re too tired to engage. The exhausted majority has to get energetic, even if only for a time, to rescue America from the friends, families, and neighbors who are tearing it apart.”

Respectfully…

AR

As written by John Mitchum in 1973 — and shared here several years ago — my sense is it may be wise to pause, re-read and remember, especially now…

You ask me why I love her? Well, give me time, and I’ll explain…

Have you seen a Kansas sunset or an Arizona rain?

Have you drifted on a bayou down Louisiana way?

Have you watched the cold fog drifting over San Francisco Bay?

Have you heard a Bobwhite calling in the Carolina pines?

Or heard the bellow of a diesel in the Appalachia mines?

Does the call of Niagara thrill you when you hear her waters roar?

Do you look with awe and wonder at a Massachusetts shore…

Where men who braved a hard new world, first stepped on Plymouth Rock?

And do you think of them when you stroll along a New York City dock?

Have you seen a snowflake drifting in the Rockies… way up high?

Have you seen the sun come blazing down from a bright Nevada sky?

Do you hail to the Columbia as she rushes to the sea…

Or bow your head at Gettysburg… in our struggle to be free?

Have you seen the mighty Tetons? …Have you watched an eagle soar?

Have you seen the Mississippi roll along Missouri’s shore?

Have you felt a chill at Michigan, when on a winters day,

Her waters rage along the shore in a thunderous display?

Does the word “Aloha”… make you warm?

Do you stare in disbelief when you see the surf come roaring in at Waimea reef?

From Alaska’s gold to the Everglades… from the Rio Grande to Maine…

My heart cries out… my pulse runs fast at the might of her domain.

You ask me why I love her?… I’ve a million reasons why.

My beautiful America… beneath Gods’ wide, wide sky. 

My prayer is that in all this festering, polarizing crud that surrounds us, we never miss the beauty embedded in the Kansas sunset, Arizona rain, Missouri shore, Michigan chill, Alaskan cold, or in the Rockies, way up high. May we never miss the beauty in all the diverse people groups — with varied passions and preferences, convictions and commitments — from Nevada to New York City… from Massachusetts to Mississippi… May we never be numb to God’s beauty. May it always move and delightfully surprise us.

Respectfully…

AR

To be clear before we begin…

meme | mēm | n. — an image, video, piece of text, etc., typically humorous in nature, that is copied and spread rapidly by internet users, often with slight variations.

muck | mək | n. — dirt, rubbish, or waste matter; mire, mud; manure.

I don’t believe it takes any bit of rocket science to suggest there’s quite a bit of memes and muck out there right now — and most of it, incredibly disrespectful.

The memes are oft insulting mic drops; thus, contrary to its definition, memes aren’t all that funny… or rather, they are only funny to the ones who wish to rebuke or bully one who adheres to a different belief system or opinion.

The muck is all that gets in the way… what gets in the way of truth… what gets in the way of objectivity. All the misinformation filling the media (Note: I will resist the rather enticing impulse to utilize muck’s last listed definition above.).

So allow us to be coherent and clear. Know, too, we are not expressing any advocacy or opposition today. Our goal is simply to wade through the memes and the muck, so that the mockery and mean-spiritedness would be minimized and respectful dialogue can continue.

The Supreme Court’s recent, notable decision in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization does not ban nor back abortion. As stated in the majority opinion, the decision today “returns the Court to a position of neutrality.” That means not for it or against it. Not making it legal nor illegal.

Attorneys (not activists) on all sides of this issue objectively share that the bottom line in the high court’s decision has zero to do with the morality of abortion; it wrestles instead with where the authority to make said decision rests. Hence, both accusations of evil and proclamations of victory are misguided. No doubt clouded by the muck, abortion will still be legal in all stages in some states — limited in others.

Herein lies a point that the memes and muck also pollute…

As shared previously, public polling has told us that the majority of the public is in favor of Roe v. Wade but not in favor of Planned Parenthood v. Casey — two legal decisions that were rescinded in the recent decision. This is significant.

The Roe v. Wade ruling of 1973 stated that Texas statutes criminalizing abortion violated a woman’s constitutional right of privacy in most cases. While ruling that government could not prohibit abortions during the first trimester for any reason, it permitted state regulation thereafter. 

The Planned Parenthood v. Casey ruling of 1992 removed the first trimester requirement, allowing state legislatures to legalize abortion up to the moment of birth. 

Also in 1992, then Pres. Bill Clinton worked to find common ground language, stating he wished for abortion to be “safe, legal and rare.” Ten years ago, the Democratic Party removed those words from their platform.

Hence, with respect to all parties but to again be factually clear, the majority of the public is in favor of what the Democratic Party supported ten years ago — not what they purport to support now.

Let me not suggest public polling is a judicious barometer of wisdom; we are solely noting what the public supports — and what it doesn’t.

Let me also assert once more that I am sharing neither advocacy or opposition. I am simply attempting to wade through the memes and the muck so that we can have better conversation. As one who did not articulate advocacy or opposition last weekend, I was personally on the receiving end of over eighty insults and questions of integrity and/or character. No need to fight back; it’s not about me; I intentionally work to understand diverse conviction and passionate expression. It does reveal, however, the lack of wisdom in our collective, cultural conversation. It reveals a lack of listening — an unwillingness — and is indeed a societal weakness.

Too many memes. Too much muck.

Let’s resist what therefore hurts us all… knowingly or not.

Respectfully…

AR

Welcome. Sit down if you aren’t sitting already. Whether reading on your phone, computer, iPad, etc., try to rest a little. Take a deep breath. We’re glad to talk about all issues here — indeed we will. Respectfully. Always. So if you’re looking for a place to fight or seeking any sense of an echo chamber that only amens what you already believe, with all due respect, this prob isn’t the place for you. Friends, even in the areas I claim to know exceptionally well — whether it be the poetry of Alfred Tennyson, the history of baseball, or the wisdom embedded in the love chapter of 1st Corinthians — without a doubt, I still have much to learn.

That’s kind of our country’s quagmire. We’re passionate and diverse. We feel things strongly. So just like that we demonize and damn. It’s easy to do. Especially outside the confines of relationship.

One of the veiled consequences of the hours we each spend isolated in our screen-lit worlds is that we have come to equate texts with talking, comments with conversation, and social media with an arena rich in transparency and truth. Since talking, conversation, transparency and truth are each keynotes of relationship, we have been lured into believing we are experiencing real relationship. When we aren’t. We think we’ve found “my people.” When we haven’t. This isn’t relationship; this is something lesser.

The challenge then is that it’s easy to denigrate outside of relationship. It’s easy to conclude that Nancy Pelosi or Samuel Alito or whoever else is evil or awful or a despicable human being because you have no relationship with them. It’s easy to say all white people or all black people or all persons of color, men or women, young, old, gay, straight, etc. because those are demographic groups — not persons with whom we have authentic, actual relationship.

How would it change the way you demonize or damn if the person who held a perspective seemingly opposite of you — but equally, fiercely passionate — was your daughter? … your son? … your sister, brother, mom, dad or BFF? Someone with whom you actually have an authentic relationship?

Let’s acknowledge the obvious, friends; it’s easy to omit understanding, compassion, empathy, mercy and/or grace when we don’t share the depth of real relationship. It’s easy to fall prey to the idea that there really aren’t any good, wise people on a side opposite of “me.” Hear that; it’s easy.

When the Supreme Court’s ruling was announced, sending regulation of abortion back to the states, I grieved. I didn’t grieve in opposition nor advocacy. I grieved because of our country’s increasing inability to handle disagreement well, especially because we haven’t realized the depth of relationship we have sacrificed.

In relationship — with my daughter, son, sister, brother, mom, dad, BFF, even neighbor or stranger in the room — here is what would be wise to process together…

So what now? First, it’s wise to read the ruling; some of the immediate reactions (on all sides) demonstrate a lack of awareness of what the decision actually says. The ruling does not prohibit abortion; it sends any abortion legislation decision to the states. Some will keep as is; some will restrict it more. So honest, reasonable question: is there something wrong if the people in California want the procedure to be totally legal and the people of Kentucky totally don’t? A person could then choose to live where they wish.

Next, I believe it to be wise to understand public sentiment. The high court’s ruling overturned Roe v. Wade and Planned Parenthood v. Casey. The majority of the public supports Roe. But the majority of the public does not support Casey. Roe made abortion legal up until the 2nd trimester. Casey made abortion legal up until birth. What do we learn from that? Public opinion — which isn’t necessarily a proven determiner of prudence — suggests that the majority of the public wants legal access to abortion but does not want abortion on demand nor so late in the pregnancy.

Also, what could we learn within the confines of relationship in regard to how we express our oft passionate agreement or disagreement? Is shaming ok? Is it wise? Who looks better afterwards? And what about protesting? Does it need to be peaceful? I’m thinking each of us would be wise to at least privately examine when we make excuses for the wrongdoing and destruction by protestors. Sometimes we’re ok with it; sometimes we’re not. My desire is for us to be both consistent and wise.

And lastly, allow me a hard, but sincere, final acknowledgment that I wish we could actually talk about. Many of us have been on all sides of this issue. We’ve been in different places in different seasons of life. So let me be a little more personal… There are people I love, respect and trust deeply on all sides of this issue. That includes people who have chosen to abort and chosen not to — for reasons of heartache, bad timing, bad relationship and more… One, in fact, made their choice because the baby had Down syndrome. I’ll be honest; that last one was especially hard for me. 

But my reality is that in each of the those relationships — with each of the choices — none of the above changed our mutual love, respect and trust. That’s because we experience and are committed to authentic relationship. In relationship, even and especially when we passionately disagree, we don’t demonize or damn; we don’t change our thinking to consider the other now despicable. In fact, if anything, we work harder… we lean in… sit down, take a deep breath… and intentionally ensure we are extra generous in our offering of understanding, compassion, empathy, mercy and grace.

That’s the depth of real relationship. That’s what it takes to work through the hard.

Respectfully…

AR

Sometimes it’s been me… 

Sometimes it’s been me who wouldn’t listen. Sometimes it’s been me who said I was listening but really wasn’t — I was just thinking of what I’d say next.

Sometimes it’s been me who was utterly convinced I was totally right… that I had the only right perspective… that only I had all the facts and there was little more to learn… and if another presented some other angle or contradicting fact, I simply assumed mine meant more.

Sometimes it’s been me who intentionally ignored the perspective of another.

Sometimes it’s been me who found comfort in the echo chamber. Sometimes it was me who felt more justified, better about myself, you-name-it because my likeminded friends all emphatically agreed and made the one who was courageous enough to share a minority opinion feel like it was only a minority opinion.

Sometimes it’s been me who had to have the last word. Sometimes it’s been me who justified the mic drop… feeling my words needed to be the ones that resonate longest. 

Sometimes it’s been me who got my entire story from CNN, Fox News, or MSNBC and then represented such as the complete truth. Sometimes it’s been me who was manipulated by the biased news. Sometimes I even knew it.

Sometimes it’s been me who’s criticized another. Sometimes harshly.

Sometimes it’s been me who didn’t actually cast the insult on social media, but was silent when the one I disagreed with was insulted. Sometimes it’s been me who justified the insult — maybe only in my head, but justified just the same.

Sometimes it’s been me who again didn’t say it, but liked the insult of another. Sometimes it’s been me who thought the word “idiot,” “stupid” or “bitch” at the end of someone else’s sentence was funny. 

Sometimes it’s been me who ignored the obvious dishonesty or exaggeration from the person I like where they stand politically. Sometimes even a president or press secretary.

Sometimes it’s been me who took the conversation too far. 

Sometimes it’s been me who has forgotten that even a stopped clock is right twice a day. 

Sometimes it’s been me who put boundaries on a relationship because of them, unwilling to examine my own behavior first. Sometimes it’s been me who actually ignored my own behavior. My wrongdoing, too.

Sometimes it’s been me who ignored the lack of integrity in the pundit or politician — especially when they made the point I wanted them to. Sometimes it’s been me who ignored the obvious playing of politics and political theater.

Sometimes it’s been me who assumed the radical fringe of the party stood most for the party… allowing a few to represent the many because the few were so seemingly outrageous. One can demonize the party faster that way.

Sometimes it’s been me who raised the intensity and drama — i.e. “This means war!”… “We must save our country!… It’s the end of the world as we know it!” — not realizing my emotions had again gotten the best of me.

Sadly, sometimes it’s been me who ignored the lack of integrity in myself. I ignored the hypocrisy, too, convincing myself I’m incapable of such.

Sometimes it’s been me who refused to say I’m sorry… or who embraced humility. Sometimes I’ve determined that that humility was more for another than for self. 

Sometimes it’s been me who failed to love another well… allowing politics to be more important than people. 

Sometimes it’s been me who felt the end justifies the means, ignoring the lack of uprightness in the means… also ignoring who it hurts.

Sometimes it’s been me who refused to empathize… who failed to love… who justified something lesser.

Sometimes, in all honesty, it’s been me.

Respectfully… and learning still…

AR