Six weeks of reaching out

Our rector's sermon yesterday at All Saints Pasadena was on friendship in a time of polarization. (If and when it gets posted, I'll put up a link to it).

We're 43 days away from the election. On any number of issues -- Iraq, gun control, abortion, homosexuality, the respective war records of the two major candidates -- it goes without saying that we are a deeply divided nation. But I'm not sure that that is necessarily anything new.

Though my expertise is not in American history, I am well aware that at other times in our past, we have been similarly divided. To imagine that the election battles of our childhoods were somehow more civil and less momentous is false recall. I remember campaigning for Jesse Jackson in 1984 (which made me an easy target of derision in my conservative high school), absolutely convinced that Ronald Reagan represented the greatest threat to civil liberties and world peace that the world had ever known. Back then, of course, the big fear was still nuclear war. We were still months away from the rise of Mikhail Gorbachev; some Democrats seriously suggested that if Reagan were re-elected, nuclear war might result. I -- at 17 -- was among those who thought that a very real possibility. Nothing we are coping with now seems to be of quite that level of import!

Still, there's no question that the current political climate can put a strain on real friendship. I've been struggling a lot with this issue lately. On a few issues (okay, more than a few), I have passionate political opinions. On any of those issues, I have friends or relatives dear to me who hold the opposite view. With most of them, I've chosen to place cordiality ahead of honesty. We simply don't talk about our political differences much, because we both know the risk it poses to our friendship. With a few, a special few, I'm willing to take that risk. These are folks with whom I share a commitment to civil language even in the face of provocation. We've worked out ways to go over our differences together without jeopardizing the relationship. Two things are key here: a self-deprecating sense of humor and a commitment not to take oneself too damn seriously. That doesn't mean making light of one's own convictions. But it does put limits on how much certainty one is going to allow oneself.

The problem with the blogosphere is that we are mostly just "cyber-friends.' Our exchanges are purely verbal, and the words we type appear without the kind of nuance we would put in a conversation. Folks seem to feel free to say things to each other in the blogosphere that they might not say to each other's faces. It's also easy to be misunderstood; what was intended as humor is taken seriously and vice-versa. For serious discussion, this medium has serious limitations. (An example of this is this extremely long recent comment thread at Alas, a Blog on abortion. It wanders everywhere, and by the end, gets nasty, despite Ampersand's pleas to maintain a civil tone. I finally opted out, acknowledging that I wasn't being helpful myself.)

I don't think quietism (a withdrawal from public life) is an acceptable solution, tempting as it may be. We all have an obligation to wrestle with these issues. But we need to be mindful of the hearts and minds and souls of those with whom we wrestle. For those of us who call ourselves Christian progressives, we must be mindful of the possibility that Jesus may appear to us in the guise of what we would cheerfully call a troglodytic traditionalist. We can hope and pray that our brothers and sisters in the conservative world will be equally open to the possibility that Christ is coming to them in an equally surprising guise.

So here's what I'm pledging to do. I'm going to spend the next 43 days working and praying for Democratic victory. I might even throw in some fasting, too. I am also committing to spending time listening to my friends who support the president, and really hearing them. I'm not just talking about redoubling my WASPy politeness; I'm talking about connecting with conservatives. Where I disagree with my progressive friends (usually, only on abortion rights), I'm going to practice that same kind of active listening. In spoken and written word, I pledge not to question the intelligence, character, or good intentions of those who hold other views -- despite what will be severe temptation to do so. And I want to challenge my readers:

What will you do in the next 43 days? How will you reach out across this ideological divide to connect with and show friendship to those with whom you disagree? (This can be in cyberspace as well as in "real life.") Over what issue do you find friendships are strained most easily? (Oddly, for a straight man, I find that I have a hard time with folks who are not willing to accept same-sex marriage; that includes half my family and at least half my friends.) I'm not asking folks to lay aside their righteous anger -- I'm asking them to find ways to stop that anger from causing further injury to an already wounded body politic.

Comments

[djw]

Hugo, you continue to be a passionate and compelling advocate for civil and respectful political discourse across enormous gulfs of deep disagreement. You're obviously rather good at it, and you do a wonderful job of inspiring it here. I admire your patience and commitment to such goals.

I'm just thinking out loud here, but let me ask a question: When are civility and respect not appropriate responses (if ever)? It seems to me like outrage, disengagement, and yes, disrespect (or a particular sort) might be appropriate responses to some positions and arguments.

It's my suspicion that such responses are not only understandable in some circumstances, but appropriate. If I can figure out how to articulate the conditions under which I think this is the case with any conviction or pursausiveness, I will, but but while I'm chewing on that I'm curious what you or your other readers might think about this.

[djw]

Oh, and me too on the gay marriage issue. And discussions about treatment of prisoners and prison conditions with those who think this isn't a big deal because those are bad people and as such deserve no better. Most other topics I keep my suavity and composure relatively easily.

[Hugo]

Well, I often think about Nazis. Real, contemporary, flesh-and-blood swastika wearing types. How do I have civil discourse with them?

I agree, dfw, I don't think it's possible. But I don't think civility requires me to engage in dialogue with everyone all the time. I think a firm, tactful disengagement is acceptable. It may even be the wisest strategy when dealing with folks who may have a propensity to act violently.

I also think we have a responsibility to listen, but not endlessly. Lots of folks get very repetitive, and civility does not obligate us to sit, stupified, while they unwind on us. Again, disengaging gracefully is the ticket.

[blackkoffeeblues]

Wow, I wish that everyone took your thoughtful approach to politics.

As for myself, I get to be in a very interesting position. I love politics, which is why I went into the industry. Technically, I work in the political arena. However, because I work in the election industry and not within a party, I cannot allow myself to engage in anything that identifies with a side. Officially, I can say anything that I want, give money where I want, etc. just like anyone else. Realistically, I can’t. It isn’t feasible or wise. I can talk about the process, the new technology, legislation, etc. but all in neutral tones. It’s very, very difficult. The upside is that I truly believe in the voting process and almost always feel good about the work that I do. The downside is that it really isn’t that fun to feel the need to always disengage gracefully.

[La Lubu]

What will I do in the next 43 days, as far as political conversation goes? Mostly preach to the choir, especially the choir that is so demoralized they might just stay home instead of get out and sing. I applaud your efforts, and hope you get somewhere; I get too stressed out and aggravated. My path in these situations with certain family members has been disengagement. I mean, what kind of enlightened conversation is going to take place between me and my screwy, uhhmm..politically challenged uncle, the one who thinks that something as fairly innocuous as zoning laws are a communist plot? Blood pressure just isn't supposed to rise that high.

Point being, if I find that mutual respect, even in disagreement, is a likely result in a political conversation...I'll engage. I like to talk, I like to listen, I like to learn. But I have no intention of being anyone's verbal punching bag, and I've got real battles to fight, so I'm not spoiling for one just for the hell of it. "Don't encourage them" is my mother's advice, and I've found it to be sound.