intramuralist ™

We begin with succinct accounts of three distinct, polished professionals…

Some would say his personality is “larger than life.” He has a strong, affable personality and has been considered one of the most popular in his field. He is also very good at what he does professionally — one of the best of his time and perhaps the greatest ever to do what he does. But he had decided he was done. Done working. Enough was enough, and no doubt his professional efforts took an increased toll on his body; it seemingly wasn’t all that fun any more. He actually had officially retired.

* * * * *

He was a hard one. No doubt incredibly gifted, there were signs of trouble both in/out of the workplace. The sexual assault allegations were by far the most serious, although it didn’t end there; there were other domestic accusations, drama, and felony charges. Again, no one questioned his talent, but his self-focus and unscrupulous activity was a major disruption. He changed jobs multiple times, as people no longer wanted him. “Too much diva” was the description by one past employer.

* * * * *

A one time, reputable worker, he, too, was a bit of an unwanted man. It wasn’t, though, because of his behavior either in/out of the workplace. He hadn’t done anything notably wrong; he just didn’t really stand out. He was a positive contributor, but was not considered a superstar and certainly had no larger than life personality. His last employer let him go, but the man still wanted to work; he wanted to contribute somewhere. Perhaps in some ways, he simply wanted to be appreciated, absent the fanfare.

* * * * *

As Super Bowl LV has come and gone, my sense is there are more lessons from the contest that would be valuable to discuss, recognizing their application to fans and non-fans alike. Allow us then to unpack a singular, significant one…

We return to the game’s MVP — TB12, the G.O.A.T., Tom Terrific, or whatever we wish to call Tom Brady. In our most recent post, I referred to what a strong leader he is. What draws the onlooker near is the uncanny, arguably indisputable evidence of that leadership. 

Leadership is influence. It’s “influencing others to work together toward a common goal,” writes author Chad Veach. It’s not about extroverts vs. introverts; the focus is instead on where we each have influence. How do we steward the influence that we have? Let’s learn from Brady… 

Above are the incomplete resumes of Super Bowl winning, Brady teammates, Rob Gronkowski, Antonio Brown, and Leonard Fournette. None of the three played for the Buccaneers last year; all three joined the team after Brady, willingly submitting to his leadership.

But note how different the three men are. Clearly, they don’t think the same way, act the same way, believe the same things, or have similar personalities. Chances are their politics aren’t the same. They don’t even have homogeneous histories of integrity.

And yet the evidence of Brady’s leadership — which deserves to be discussed far outside the game of football — is that there is something within his approach that still brings the different willingly together.

Such scenario completely contradicts a hollow philosophy not so subtly promoted by current culture — this idea that it’s actually unnecessary to bring the different together. It’s why many even highly intelligent people continue to insist that unity can only happen when more people “think like me.” That’s not diversity, friends.

That’s not honoring either. That’s instead requiring the different to assimilate into something they are not — and requiring others to do something we are unwilling to consider.

Tom Brady seems to get that. Calm, cool Tom approaches leadership requiring mutual respect and recognition of common ground and a common goal. There is no denigrating of the different. Ever. Not in leadership that is wise.

So what happens when we actually bring the different together in a mutually respectful kind of way?

Note there were only three men who scored touchdowns in Sunday’s iconic showdown. Those three were Gronkowski, Brown, and Fournette. Guided by wise leadership, they found blessing and success.

Let’s stop pointing fingers. Let’s steward our influence well.

Respectfully…

AR

I grew up in Indianapolis. Indy natives generally agree on three primary premises:.

• One, basketball is best in the Hoosier state (ahem… Boilermaker state).
• Two, the greatest spectacle in far more than racing occurs each Memorial Day weekend.
• And three, Tom Brady is deserving of scorn.

As Super Bowl LV is now before us — the day when some 11 million pizza slices are expected to be consumed and over 100 million of us will tune in sometime during the contest — it seems appropriate to wrestle with the third premise, as Thomas Edward Patrick Brady Jr. is set to appear in his unprecedented, tenth NFL championship game.

Now before my East Coast inhabitant friends accuse me of hate speech, allow me to first semi-humbly offer the basis for said scorn. 

As one who rooted for the Colts (after they fled Baltimore in the middle of the night, which would later prompt the original Browns to flee Cleveland), we began to thrive during the era of the infamous #18, Peyton Manning. In the early 2000’s, led by Manning, we did great — until it annually came to playing the dreaded Patriots. Suffice it to say, they were a most prickly thorn in our side… or at least in our yearly playoff hopes. Tom was seemingly always in Peyton’s way.

We would finally overcome the challenge in the 2006 postseason, besting New England in another classic game and earning a trip to Super Bowl XLI. Still it seemed it was always Tom vs. Peyton. Peyton vs. Tom. We knew then that one of the two would one day be colloquially crowned the G.O.A.T.

To further justify my city’s scorn, no less, Brady led the Patriots during multiple (well, at least a humongous two) scandals… “Spygate” in 2007, in which Patriot staffers secretly videotaped opposing coaches’ signals — and “Deflategate” in 2015, in which the Patriots used deliberately, under-inflated footballs to give their team an unfair advantage during the playoffs. Brady would end up being suspended for his no doubt grievous role in the process.

But a funny thing soon happened.

I moved.

Now before any rush to judgment (as I may possibly be guilty of above, slightly maybe, potentially, along with most of the entire city of Indianapolis), allow me to offer a simple truth I recently heard one wise man say…

Where you stand depends on where you sit.

In other words, where we stand on an issue, idea, impression of a person, etc. is determined by the vantage point from where we’re sitting. We can’t see all perspectives from singular vantage points; it’s impossible. Such means then that our perspectives are each incomplete.

Where did I move to?

Florida. And Tom did, too.

I see a few things I couldn’t see before, as now I’m a little nearer to the person. I see a family man, devoted to his wife for the past 12 years. I see a strong leader, who leads by example, doesn’t brag about self nor chastise his opponents. I see a lighthearted man, whose social media presence is consistently engaging and fun. I see a man with sincerity, who warmly greets competitors, such as Drew Brees and his boys after what may have been Brees’ final professional game. And as one blessed with a resume that qualifies him as the G.O.A.T., I also see an imperfect man, thus making him capable (just like you and me) of the poor judgment that previously served only as the substantiation for my scorn.

I can see that now. But I had to first move from where I sat.

What are those issues, ideas and impressions of people where we feel emboldened or self-righteous in where we stand, but we’ve failed to realize where we sit? We are unaware of our narrow, limited perspective. Where would “moving” broaden our stance? Where would it make us wiser? More accurate?

As for today, let me simply wish Brady and his Buccaneers good luck. I like him. I like them. For the record, I kind of like that Mahomes guy, too. I find each QB and their team deserving of both my admiration and cheer. No, not of my scorn… which now I can see.

Respectfully…

AR

When sitting down to pen this post, it originally began like this…

Executive Orders continue to be each incoming president’s initial wave of action. In the 11 days of their January tenure, the Biden administration announced 25 executive orders, 10 presidential memos, and 4 proclamations, compared to 20 each for presidents Trump and Obama, 5 for G. W. Bush and 11 for Clinton. Let’s discuss one order last week that diplomatically stated, stood out.

By the authority vested in him as President, Pres. Biden issued an order entitled the “Executive Order on Preventing and Combating Discrimination on the Basis of Gender Identity or Sexual Orientation.” Sentence #1 stated that “Every person should be treated with respect and dignity and should be able to live without fear, no matter who they are or whom they love.” That’s not the standing out part; that is sentence #2: “Children should be able to learn without worrying about whether they will be denied access to the restroom, the locker room, or school sports.”

While the order doesn’t explicitly address the scenario, the consequential question is the impact this has on the transgender athlete debate. Said issue gained prominence two years ago when tennis great Martina Navratilova issued a bold opinion in the UK’s “The Sunday Times.” How are we to handle the person who was biologically born male but identifies more with the female gender as an adult — and wishes to compete on the court now with women? We strive to honor all people, so how do we honor all if we are fair to the transgender women but unfair to the other competing women? There are factual, biological differences. Navratilova then called it “cheating.”

As with all issues which are challenging in comprehending the many no doubt nuanced angles, let’s begin by asking questions. Let’s ask questions of what we don’t understand. Let us also be sure to honor those who agree and who do not — those who are passionate and those who are not. And let no one most affected by our opinions have reason to be offended by our actual words. Disagreement and offense are not synonymous.

And that’s where my originally intended blog idea stopped.

I realized that more than any even diplomatically stated issue, those last two sentences may be what challenges us the most: let no one most affected by our opinions have reason to be offended by our actual words. Disagreement and offense are not synonymous. 

How we state what we believe is separate than what we actually believe. However, in ever increasing, cancel-culture-abetting circles, how we state what we believe seems to matter less than the actual holding of the opinion. In other words…

Your mere holding of that opinion is offensive to me.

Wow. 

Note what just happened there…

If I fall prey to the lure that the simple holding of an opinion is offensive, then I no longer need to engage with you. I don’t need to listen to you. I don’t have to entertain any other nuanced angle. I don’t have to even admit that those angles exist. And don’t get me started about any semblance of respect. No, not when you’re so offensive…

And unity?! Why in the world would I even consider finding unity with someone who is so offensive?!

And just like that we once more fall prey to what’s lesser.

Less noble. Less good.

Because of that, we make increasingly less progress on meaningful issues. We have trouble discussing far more than whether it’s fair and honoring to all people for transgender women to compete in women’s sports. We have trouble even starting the conversation — or even a blog post.

May we be wise enough, therefore, to discern the difference between disagreement and offense. And may we respect others enough to let no one most affected by our opinions have reason to be offended by our actual words. Let’s state how we feel what we feel in non-antagonistic, honoring ways.

Such is noble. Such is good. Such leads to better conversation, sharpening, and maybe, just maybe, solution.

Respectfully…

AR

Let’s begin with a lesson from baseball. It’s less than a month until pitchers and catchers report. Granted, this post really isn’t about baseball. Stay tuned…

This past week was the annual announcement of the those to be honored with membership in Cooperstown’s National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum. Established in 1939 by Stephen Carlton Clark, an heir to the Singer Sewing Machine fortune, the HOF honors those who have excelled in playing, managing, and serving the sport; their motto is “Preserving History, Honoring Excellence, Connecting Generations.”

For decades they have elected an elite total of only 333 members. Among them, for example, are Roberto Alomar, Ty Cobb, Joe DiMaggio, Mickey Mantle, and Tim Raines.

This week, however, gained news arguably most for whom they did not select — and what notably, impacted his rejection. 

The controversy centered around Curt Schilling, one of baseball’s best pitchers during his tenure on the mound. His career stats — 216 wins, 3116 strikeouts, 6 All-Star appearances, and 3 World Series championships — are consistent with pitchers previously elected.

But Schilling has a tweeting tendency that perhaps is most diplomatically described as inflammatory and antagonistic. Most recently, for example, after the insurrection at the Capitol, Schilling tweeted: “You cowards sat on your hands, did nothing while liberal trash looted rioted and burned for air Jordan’s and big screens, sit back, [expletive] and watch folks start a confrontation for [expletive] that matters like rights, democracy and the end of govt corruption.”

Let me not support Schilling’s social media presence in any way. Let me also affirm that antagonism is inconsistent with our advocacy for respect. I will add, no less, that while inflammatory and antagonistic, Schilling’s communication is not illegal.

Nonetheless, with such rhetoric a pattern in Schilling’s recent past, many Hall of Fame voters acknowledged rejecting the pitcher’s inclusion in the HOF because of his social media behavior and alignment with our most recent, former President.

As always, feel free to have an opinion. Feel free to have an opinion different than those in the room with you. I have mixed emotions on this one. But here’s what perhaps perplexes me most — fitting into the larger, non-baseball concern. Note the following:

He spat in the face of an umpire. Wife #1 claimed to be the victim of his physical aggression.

He assaulted a disabled heckler, climbing into the stands and attacking the fan, screaming he could care less if the man had no legs. He fought an umpire after one game, and also assaulted a hotel elevator operator.

He was physically abusive towards his wife. He once punched actor Billy Crystal in the stomach for not introducing him as the “Greatest Living Ballplayer.”

His alcoholism was public knowledge; there were incidents of drunk driving. There were many incidents of marital infidelity — which the press kept quiet about.

He admitted keeping a gram of cocaine in his uniform pocket, snorting during games, and said that he only slid into bases headfirst so as not to break the drug vial.

“Who were these people?” one asks.

Roberto Alomar, Ty Cobb, Joe DiMaggio, Mickey Mantle, and Tim Raines.

While likely few of us are electors for an actual, national hall of fame, many of us feel emboldened to judge the character of another. We judge by what we see. We judge others by their actions, while reserving the right to judge self and those we love by our intent. We give grace to what we understand — condemnation to what we do not. Some sins outrage us more; some we are numb to.

The challenge, therefore — both for us and the Cooperstown faithful — is that we are so obviously inconsistent. We are measuring morality by fluctuating standards. 

In a modern world which often prides itself on being advanced, woke and aware, that’s a pretty slippery slope. For whenever we embrace relative measurements of morality, we should be aware that it can negatively impact persons we know, love, and admire next.

Respectfully…

AR

(Part 2 of our discussion from David French’s Divided We Fall, although bear with me; it will take us an intentional minute to get there…)

Last fall I witnessed a horrendous outcome. No doubt an unmistakable atrocity. It was such a gross injustice, in fact, I actually looked on Twitter to see what was trending; maybe there was more we could do.

It was November 20th — feeling like just one more crushing blow in an ongoing, crushing year.

We were in Minneapolis — or at least watching events unfold there on TV.

My beloved Boilermakers were playing the Golden Gophers from the University of Minnesota on the gridiron. It was a Friday night, and we had fallen behind early; it was seemingly one of those death-by-a-thousand-paper-cuts kind of games, where we just couldn’t seem to make any progress. Whatever we did, we were still behind; they played better. There was mistake after mistake. That is, until the game’s climactic conclusion. Redemption was near.

Down 11 at the half, our young men persevered in enemy territory. We continued to close the gap. With less than a mere minute to go, we were driving; we had a sweet set up. QB Jack Plummer throws a perfect strike to tight end Payne Durham. Durham reels it in — “TOUCHDOWN!” The Purdue celebration begins!

And then came the flag. With no visible contact on live television, while one official emphatically signaled the score, another threw that crappy yellow flag for offensive pass interference. The touchdown was wiped off the board. Plummer threw an interception on the next play. Game over. Purdue loses. Horrendous, indeed. 

One of my favorite pastimes is watching Purdue sports. It doesn’t matter which sport or which season — football, basketball, volleyball, you-name-it. Any team’s torso adorned with “Purdue Pete,” the “Boilermaker Special,” or the historic griffin (affectionately referred to on campus as  “the flying chicken”) is the immediate object of my affection, attention, and adoration. And no doubt, the absolute, undeniable best way to watch Purdue sports is to watch with Purdue fans. [Insert special shout out to each of you here.]

We share the same passion. We get the way each other thinks. We cheer — and jeer — in unison. But there’s one more thing…

We share a perspective. We share a bias. No matter how physically different we may be, we share — as referenced in Chapter 5 by David French’s excellent book, Divided We Fall — what’s called a “predeliberation tendency” in regard to Purdue University.

To “deliberate” means to engage in long and careful consideration. It means to carefully weigh or cautiously consider. It is marked by a slow decision-making process. A predeliberation tendency is different; such means prior to any actual consideration, we’re already inclined to lean a certain way or believe a certain thing. Objectivity is decreased. The comfort and convenience of watching the Purdue game with Purdue fans, therefore, is that I don’t have to seriously consider any other angle as credible or worthy of weighing. I don’t have to even interact with the holder of those angles, thinking I know enough — that my fellow Purdue fans are enough. Predeliberation thus omits the care and the caution that prudent deliberation requires.

But there’s one more aspect to a predeliberation tendency which may be the reason French suggests that “if you read only one chapter in this book, this is the chapter to read.” Utilizing the research of former University of Chicago law professor and Obama administration official, Cass Sunstein, French discusses how group deliberation with persons of varied perspective actually sharpens us and leads to better outcomes. And — and this is what’s concerning about what we’ve been witnessing play out in front of us for years — when we fail to deliberate extensively with those of varied perspective, the “deliberation tends to move groups, and the individuals who compose them, toward a more extreme point in the direction indicated by their own predeliberation judgments.” In other words, deliberation absent varied perspective leads to the extreme. There are indeed extreme perspectives being pushed today — incredulously guised as normal and acceptable — by intelligent people on both the left and the right.

Disagree? As always, the Intramuralist welcomes constructive, respectful disagreement. But first note my words above…

… a horrendous outcome… an unmistakable atrocity… such a gross injustice… in enemy territory, for God’s sake!

That describes a game. Just a game.

Understand that I still believe my conclusion from that game was accurate. I believe, too, that the result had consequences and was unfair. However, without sincerely weighing ample, other perspective, my reaction becomes exaggerated and extreme.

Deliberating with only the likeminded, friends, increases our indignation. It also makes us worse at what we do and less sensible in how we react. Hence, as we continue to advocate for unity, justice, and liberty for all, we need to avoid the extreme, as the extreme perspective is challenged to see how wise unity, justice, and liberty for all actually are. 

Respectfully…

AR

As COVID continues, one of the best things about the extended, isolated time in our homes is the opportunity for (A) taking more much-anticipated naps, (B) eagerly anticipating the next Netflix series upon which to binge, and (C) making major dents in books you’ve longed to read. This weekend, I chose option (C).  

Know now that this post will be incomplete. As is oft my hope from this humble hobby, my desire is rarely for a blog post to stand alone, be a mic drop moment, or serve as some sort of contemplative cessation. We aim to spark increased dialogue and thought, prompting continued processing.

I picked up the latest literary offering from David French, entitled “Divided We Fall.” French is not a Republican nor a Democrat. He calls himself “a man without a party.” His aim is not to “adjudicate the competing narratives of the left and the right”; it is instead to understand them — and warn against  “the product of their inexorable and relentless spread through the American body politic.” His book is thus sobering. Hence, barring any unforeseen events, we will wrestle more with the sobering in our next post. For now, let’s listen well, and attempt to understand the two distinct, authentic narratives…

“… The two competing narratives began to take clear shape. The left looks at the GOP and offers a critique that flows from the racial conflicts and racial divisiveness of the worst days in American history. From this perspective, a shrinking white Christian population, steeped in historical privilege, is lashing out as America becomes more racially and religiously diverse. The very man who most denied the legitimacy of the nation’s first black president now leads a coalition of voters that is at best indifferent to racial justice and at worst outright racist. His own explicitly racist comments only seem to anchor his support in an angry white community.

In this narrative, these same voters are granted out-sized power by the quirks of America’s white-supremacy-stained constitutional past. Thanks to the Electoral College and the Senate, an angry minority governs from the White House. An angry minority has a hammerlock on the Senate. In states across the nation, they use temporary gerrymandering and voter suppression. Thus, even if a majority of Americans demand change, they cannot obtain it, and as the GOP opposition to Merrick Garland demonstrated, not even a clean and clear presidential victory could guarantee the president’s Supreme Court nominee so much as a hearing.

Even worse, continues the left’s narrative, the angry white minority is inflicting cruelty as policy. How could a party that fashions itself as pro-life and pro-family endorse policies that led to mandatory family separation at the border? How could they look at themselves in the mirror as agents of the state ripped children from their mothers’ arms?

Right-wing intolerance breeds cruelty, and it also breeds violence. Anger at necessary social change is spilling over into outright racism, homophobia, and Islamophobia online and in political rhetoric. And in some cases angry men are taking their rage into the real world, massacring worshippers in South Carolina and Pittsburgh, gunning down Latinos in an El Paso Walmart, committing a terror attack in Charlottesville, and inflicting silent hate on racial, religious, and sexual minorities in communities from coast to coast.

Compounding it all, the left’s argument continues, the angry right elected an angry man, and then stubbornly defended him even as he was caught, time and again, in overt lies and obvious abuses of power. The same party that once impeached a many for lying about sex locked arms to defend a man who orchestrated a criminal scheme to pay hush money to a porn star, ran a political campaign that eagerly sought help from a hostile foreign power, and then — once in office — tried to force a desperate and dependent ally, the vulnerable nation of Ukraine, to engage in a politically motivated investigation of one of the president’s chief domestic political opponents.

If you see these facts, the narrative concludes, how can you not be alarmed? Isn’t it necessary to view your political opponents as dangerous? Isn’t it foolish to believe they mean well?

The right has a competing narrative, one rooted in faith, history, and the nature of the American founding. It begins simply: They hate us, they lie about us, and they use all the instruments of their power to deprive us of our rights and even deprive us of our jobs and economic opportunities. The left’s message is clear — conform or lose your livelihood.

Even worse, in the name of social justice and so-called reproductive freedom, they have legalized killing on a mass scale. In the years since the unelected Supreme Court read a right to abortion into a Constitution that’s utterly silent about the topic, tens of millions of innocent children have died in the womb. And leftists are fanatics about ‘the right to choose,’ resisting even the most modest attempts to restrict the deadly practice and even sometimes using their economic power to sanction states that resist.

According to the right’s narrative, the left tramples individual liberty. In the name of ‘tolerance,’ they restrict free speech. In the name of ‘justice,’ they limit due process. In the name of ‘peace,’ they seek to limit the fundamental human and constitutional right of self-defense.

They will use any means necessary to accomplish their goals. If they have a social media account, they’ll shame and humiliate you online. If they own a company, they’ll impose economic punishments on states, cities and towns — even as they’re happy to do business with truly oppressive regimes like China or Saudi Arabia. If they run a university, they’ll openly discriminate against conservative and Christian students and faculty. They’ll harass people in restaurants. They’ll harass people at movie theaters. They’ll harass people at home.

Leftist anger breeds violence, continues this narrative. Remember the flames in Ferguson, Baltimore, and Charlotte? Remember the police officers ambushed in Dallas and Baton Rouge? Did you see antifa beating journalists? And who can forget the angry leftist who almost changed history with his attempted massacre of Republican congressmen on a Virginia baseball field?

And now they disrespect the constitutional order. They abused the counterintelligence surveillance powers to obtain a warrant against a former campaign aide, they used a fake dossier full of Russian disinformation to spread conspiracy theories and undermine public trust in the president, and then they rushed to impeach that same president for — at worst — a minor diplomatic mistake, one that was ultimately corrected before any harm was done. Oh, and they rushed to impeach after years before locking arms to defend a Democratic president after he was caught red-handed committing the federal crime of perjury and the federal crime of obstruction of justice. If it weren’t for double standards, they’d have no standards at all.

If you see these facts, the right’s narrative concludes, how can you not be alarmed? Isn’t it necessary to view your political opponents as dangerous? Isn’t it foolish to believe they mean well?”

Fascinating. Note the existence of two distinct, authentic narratives. Alarming?

Let’s keep talking. Let’s listen and learn more first…

Respectfully…

AR

Dear Joe,

Congratulations, Joe, on being elected the 46th President of the United States of America. I know the fanfare of the congratulations is tempered by the sobering responsibility before you, as it’s hard to fathom the enormity of the task. You’ve been tapped to be the Chief Executive of our Federal Government and the Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces. There are over 326 million of us living here. You’ve been charged to lead us. 

I write to you this day as a mere one of those millions. I write to you not as a Democrat, Republican, or even independent. I write to you also not as one who voted for you or did not. It does not matter; you are still my President. I write to you as one you’ve been humbly charged to lead.

Excuse me for a moment — I suppose I should have asked first: “Is it ok to call you ‘Joe’?” I don’t remember any presidents in my lifetime who went primarily by their first name. 43 was often referred to by his middle initial; the last two presidents were called all sorts of names; and well, maybe Pres. Reagan, although “Ronnie” always seemed like something reserved solely for his beloved Nancy.

So allow me to share a few short statements…

One, I’m rooting for you. Two, I’m praying for you. And three, I won’t always agree with you, but that’s ok. 

I root for you because if you succeed, we succeed. Your success will be tied to the oath you take this day, solemnly swearing to the best of your ability, to “preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.” As you attempt to faithfully execute that oath, as a country we are again reminded as to what you are actually affirming — the prioritizing of unity, justice, liberty, and more. Not just for some. Not just for the majority, minority nor the marginalized. Not for a singular party. For all lives. They matter.

I pray for you because let’s face it: this is hard work. In addition to the solemnity of your oath, you will face additional obstacles. Some will be expected; some will not. Some will come from the opposing political party; some will come from within your own. Voices will attempt to sway you in ways inconsistent with your oath — as if unity, justice, etc. are not necessary for all. I am encouraged, therefore, by your recent pledge, vowing to unite us… “I pledge to be a president who does not seek to divide, but unify, who doesn’t see red states and blue states, but only sees the United States,” you promised. No doubt that won’t be easy; we’re a weary people. We’ve justified judgment and partisanship. We’ve fallen prey to decades of labeling those we disagree with — making snap, incomplete assessments as if we know the entirety of a whole people group’s heart. When we label, no doubt, we dehumanize. And unity cannot be found amidst dehumanization. This won’t be easy, Joe. And I know you know that. 

In fact, you have long said, your Christian faith has been the “bedrock foundation” of your life. It has been “a constant reminder of the fundamental dignity and humanity that God has bestowed upon all of us.” I appreciate how you thus see all people created in God’s image. I think we forget that some days, believing that some were somehow not privy to such masterful crafting. Oh, how that truthful awareness would change how we see others… how we treat them, too. Hence, I will pray for your divine strength and discernment. You’ll need that; we all do, as self-reliance is perhaps one of humankind’s most enticing, accepted sins.

And lastly, I won’t always agree with you, but that’s ok. It seems in this country, we’ve made a major mistake here. We’ve fabricated this idea that we must agree, and if we don’t, “you are bad.” With all your years in the Senate — evidenced by your enduring friendships with Senators McConnell and McCain, for example — I know you know this; it doesn’t make sense. I have yet to find a person (just ask my spouse) that I agree with 100% of the time. But we simply seem to have lost the art of vocalizing disagreement respectfully. We’ve reframed the argument to suggest that disagreement equates to a gross violation of virtue (… because when it’s about virtue, we don’t have to even entertain the idea of respectful, constructive dialogue). We thus are limiting ourselves in finding the best solutions, dismissing what another’s differences bring to the table. Unfortunately, Democrats and Republicans alike have led us poorly here. We need help.

My wish for you, no less, is that your tenure will be marked by humility, integrity and God-honoring respect and compassion for all humankind. May your tenure resist the lures of partiality, partisanship and self-promotion. And may you lead wisely and well, remembering who and Whom you serve.

Thanks, Joe. Thanks for letting us call you that, too.

Respectfully…

AR

“… I found myself sitting across the booth from one of the guys who had attended the party, a local architect who is about fifteen years my senior. I don’t even remember what we were discussing, but at one point I said to him, ‘You know, Pat, I’ll bet you and I feel differently about this topic because you and I came of age during different times.’

As he and I explored that thought, the other talk around the booth gradually came to a halt, as the other members of the group first listened and then wanted to weigh in on our discussion. When they did, the conversation ignited. What followed were several hours of explosive and riveting discussion, all of it coming from a point of view none of us had ever considered and knew a thing about…” — Chuck Underwood, in The Generational Imperative

Different generations have different perspectives. Each has value. No doubt we can learn from one another, as we consider angles and aspects our own experience fails to provide.

For today’s post, therefore, recognizing the contentious cultural moment, we’ve solicited some wisdom from those who’ve gone before us. I reached out to several, valuing their years of experience, diverse upbringings, and recognizing they have so much to offer and so much keen insight to share…

“Over the course of your lifetime, have you ever sensed a social/political season similar to now,” I asked. Also, “What compares to the current fractured, national, societal state — or specifically, to the fear or division?”

The answers to the above were fascinating and acute. In response to having ever witnessed such a season, “to a tee” they articulated in virtual unison: “No, not really.” “Not remotely close in my life.” “This. today. NOTHING.”

So what compares? This prompted pause. Almost all mentioned a military conflict…

• “The first thing that came to mind were the feelings I had during the second world war… I was in single digits and had a lot of fears I could not reason out with an adult mind. I remember going to bed at night in the bedroom on the second story on the east side of the house with a hill a field away fearing that the German troops would be coming over that hill during the night. Part of the government action at that time was the order to shut all lights off including street lights so cities were dark on many occasions.” 
• “I grew up in the Eisenhower years. Everything was black and white and very little grey. I felt safe and secure. Jobs were abundant and outside of the ‘bomb drills’ and hiding under our desks at school, life was good. Then the Cold War started and Khrushchev banging his shoe on the podium of the United Nations screaming ‘We will bury you!’ frightened me to death and gave me nightmares for years.”

So many mentioned Vietnam…

• “There were serious divisions with sit ins and demonstrations.”
• “There was social unrest… why are we in SE Asia? Attitudes changed when the ‘college’ kids were being drafted, I believe. Although there were those who signed up, there were protests on college campuses.”
• “The Vietnam issue was a real splitter for me. I don’t remember it being a Democrat or Republican conflict but a certain demographic in my generation not wanting to be involved in a war which we did not think we should be involved in. The other of us just wanting to do whatever our government expected of us.”

Still more mentioned the racial tension, the harrowing assassinations, and more…

• “Segregation hit and we took to the streets.”
• “When news broke that MLK had been assassinated, [the city] erupted — nights of eruptions.  The city went on a curfew so all night classes were cancelled and the National Guard was called in.”
• “I experienced 3 assassinations — JFK, MLK, Bobby Kennedy — US involvement in Vietnam, having family and friends drafted and some not coming home, political riots (Chicago ‘68), Civil Rights marches, riots, Kent State shooting of 4 students by the Ohio National Guard… Watergate… It was not political divisions as today; it was more ‘us vs. them.’”

Within that sharing, they humbly offered sobering more…

• “I’ve seen nothing of this depth. I’m sensing people are deeply entrenched in their points of view without a sense of reality or an understanding of what are really the core issues the other side is fighting for.”
• “I have never seen the situation in our country as we see it now. I do not feel is it only because of the pandemic. For some time there seems to be a growing erosion of values, common decency, unwillingness to listen to differing points of view, unwillingness to recognize that one has a right to his/her opinion but that could be wrong in view of facts. Therefore, much judgment seems imposed on others which then justifies one’s conduct and supports negating the value of others. It is a ‘only-me-matters’ mentality. So sad to see all this divisiveness and unwillingness which is destroying all of us in different ways.” 

What a privilege to learn from those who’ve gone before us… if we are willing… sobered and humble, too…

Respectfully…

AR

With all the rattling in current culture, I’d like to humbly share one of my guiding life principles. But I’ll be honest. I didn’t always think this way. Like many, when I was 22/23, fresh out of college, a new job, career, and gleefully, my to-date, far biggest paycheck, I knew I didn’t know it all; but I thought all I knew was best.

To be a tiny more transparent, I thought that, too, when I was 16 and 36 and…

I used to deeply adhere to an invariable idea of individual capability. I would hear reports from those around me, those in the news, and later on Twitter, learning of sensational, outlandish misdeeds of others. Some behavior was preposterous. Opinions and beliefs, too. It was crazy. Nefarious. Even corrupt.

I would immediately think — I might even loudly proclaim — “I would never do that.”

Never would I ever. I believed I was not capable of preposterous thinking or behavior. Like the friend I ran into on my daily walk the other day, as together we lamented the fractious state of current culture, saying, “It’s not that hard to not do stupid stuff.”

Touché. That’s what I used to believe.

Truthfully, that line of thinking made me feel better. It allowed me to be more confident, assured, emboldened, angry, prideful, you name it, believing that only another was capable of the stupid or egregious. But an unfortunate thing happens when we believe we are incapable… we then find ample reason to judge, look down on another, not engage until they grow, move full speed ahead with all of our blinders on, and we also stop seeking any common ground. We start believing that there actually does not exist any common ground… because they are different than me.

I see them as different. I’m not capable. I would never do that.

But alas, there were holes in my line of thinking…

I had a couple friends I did life with back then who went through some grievous times. Unrelated to one another, each engaged in indisputably immoral behavior — one in regard to infidelity — the other a violent crime. Each would tell you now that what they did was wrong and they were responsible for their actions. They’ve repented, but also experienced sobering consequences for their choices.

When we see such scenarios in the news, clearly, it’s easier. We don’t know them. Some would conclude regarding my two friends, “Well, AR, you must not have really known them.” But that’s not true. I did know them. Not only did I know them, I also respected them and believed them to be good, wise, compassionate, gifted people. I still do. They still did stupid stuff.

That’s when it hit me… if people that I knew and respected were capable of doing such stupid stuff, what about me? …

… if I’m pushed… if I’m passionate… if the right set of circumstances existed… am I capable of the egregious?

No doubt it would be easier to stand back, being confident, assured, emboldened, angry, prideful, you name it. No doubt it would be easier to see myself as incapable. No doubt it would be easier to withhold my love and respect and see the other as different.

But what if we’re not?

When adhering to guiding life principles, Judeo-Christian ethics have been timeless and true. In fact, they are so true it would be easy to look at divine instruction like the Ten Commandments and say, “Got it, God! I don’t really struggle with these. But it’s so great you provided these for them.” In other painfully poignant words, I used to look at life’s wisest teachings and think of how much others needed it.

We do that when we see them as different.

True that the timeless teachings of an enduring faith are personal. True that they are indeed for them. But also true is that they are indeed for me. And me is who I need to focus on first. The more I look at life through that Judeo-Christian lens, the more I see not how different I am from those both in and out of the Church — but rather, the more I realize how very much we are the same…

… how much we have in common…

… how capable we each are…

… and how much we desperately need what’s timeless and true…

Respectfully…

AR

Let me first say this — and let my words be faithful but few:

The violence at the Capitol this week was horrific. All violence — save that which is based on “Just War” thinking, in my opinion — is wrong. I found the President’s incitement to be incredulous and injudicious. And while the events of this week do not compare to another, any protest that manifests itself as violence against another’s person or property is illegal and wrong.

Now… a few more somber words…

We’ve witnessed much as we’ve watched the world react. We’ve witnessed the good, bad and the ugly. We’ve seen social media be the bearer of some souls… a pulpit for others… a bully pulpit for still more.

One reaction we’ve seen from the multiples goes something like this: “With all that happened on Wednesday, that doesn’t reflect America. We’re not like this…”

“We’re not like this…”

But what if we are?

For years the way we’ve treated each other has gotten worse…

We’ve justified shame, judgment and sweeping, whole people group conclusions. We’ve been angry — and felt it not only appropriate but also necessary to call another out. We’ve done it publicly — castigating those even with whom we’ve never sat and listened and actually heard from their head and their heart. We’ve called them names. We’ve proclaimed people we’ve never known to be supporters of racism, Marxism, or God-forbid, Hitler. We’ve supported lawmakers whose rhetoric is awful. We’ve cheered. We’ve encouraged canceling. We’ve focused continuously on others’ faults. We’ve thought of them as lesser. With our passions heightened, we’ve ignored moral digression and pushed the boundaries of natural law. We’ve been mad. We’ve been arrogant. We’ve called the different “complicit.” We’ve been lured into looking at politics as a delineation between “good vs. evil.” We’ve picked a singular side. We’ve broken relationship with family and friends until they decide to change, thinking we didn’t “really know” them… also forgetting the days they stood by us at our worst… somehow lured into believing this means more. We’ve hidden behind keyboards, hitting “like” and “retweet” no matter who it hurts. We’ve huddled in tribal thinking, forgetting “where everyone thinks the same, no one really thinks.” We’ve made excuses for the sins of those likeminded because we empathize with what led to the transgression. We’ve extended grace to them and condemnation to the opposite. And we’ve been afraid — afraid that a value we hold dear — whether it be equality, liberty, life or democracy — will no longer be valued.

And so we lash out. Each escalating event gets worse. I heard one man say, “America will go on, but we aren’t ok.” No, we’re not ok.

Because… what if we really are like this?

Let me suggest that after decades of deterioration, there is no easy fix. But what I do know is that it will not be “fixed” by more of the above. It will not be fixed by us huddling in our tribes and proclaiming where everyone else needs to change. 

Fixing starts with me. This means a humbling of self, seeking a holy God — someone bigger and wiser and far more knowledgeable and powerful and in control than any person on this planet — someone in whom, absolutely each of us was made like — in his actual image — soberly pleading for healing and forgiveness.

No doubt each of us has something within in need of healing. No doubt forgiveness, too…

Humbly…

AR