We sometimes complain about the lack of diversity in Cook County. And it’s true— you don’t see a lot of burkas here. I’ve lived in many more diverse places. When I lived in Cape Town I could walk down the street and pass someone fresh from the bush, carrying a bundle on her head, and next a retired general from the British army.
But because of the size of our community in Cook County, I believe that we have a unique opportunity to have a whole different kind of diversity here. We might actually listen to each other, assume the best in each other, and seek to understand each other.
Think of how rare and wonderful this could be! One of the biggest problems in contemporary society is that we are more and more easily able to split off into groups of like-minded people. Conservatives watch conservative news, hear conservative commentary. Progressives do the same. The more we dwell in these ghettos, the more easily we caricature the other, sneer at each other, feel self righteous and superior to those who “just don’t get it.”
In a small town like Grand Marais we have the opportunity for a radical alternative. Each of us must rub shoulders with people who are very different in terms of background, ethics, politics, religion, etc. And I may even begin to see them to be human…even if they are Republican or Democrat, homosexual or heterosexual, Christian or Buddhist, even snowmobiler or cross country skier!
Not exposing ourselves to diverse perspectives is not good for us because it makes everything seem black and white. I’m constantly underlining what I know to be true. For example, I’m a Democrat. It has always seemed obvious to me that we are called to care for the weak, to provide health care. On my fridge: “Obama is not a brownskinned socialist who gives away free health care: you are thinking of Jesus.” That pretty much sums up my stance.
But I had a shocking experience a few years back. I invited a couple of ardent Christian Republicans over for dinner. As I heard them talk I thought, “Darn. They are not evil. They do not despise the poor. They are not just out to get rich. They really care, but they have a different idea of how to care….”
Listening to them, understanding them—I had to change my opinion. I had a vague sense of loss, that I could no longer just dismiss people as “heartless Republicans.” Life would be more complicated if I had to try to understand people who were different from me. Not only that—I’d have to let go of some of my self-righteousness. Instead of patting myself on the back because I’m so enlightened—I am called to struggle to empathize and understand.
Not dismissing, but understanding. Not assuming I’m right and therefore they’re wrong.
What would it be like if instead of assuming the worst, I assumed others had good motives? If I took as a given that Republicans are not out to hurt the poor, but wanted to see them cared for in a different way? Could I find a way to believe that people who oppose the new health care plan do so, not because they want the weak to suffer from lack of care, but because—(this is tough for me!)—they think there might be a better way for people to get good medical care?
The apostle Paul wrote: “Woe to me if I don’t proclaim the gospel.” I used to think he was saying, “Boy will I be in trouble if I don’t proclaim the gospel.” But now I think it was his inner compulsion—“ I’d go crazy if I didn’t proclaim the gospel.”
I believe my inner compulsions, my passions, my “I’d go crazy if I didn’ts…” are God given. The challenge is for me to believe that yours are! It’s all too easy for me to assume that mine are the ones that are superior— the ones any right-minded person would have, and anyone who has others is deficient, probably downright sinful.
What would the world be like if we took time to listen and appreciate each other’s passions and points of view? If I assumed that this person’s concern for the unborn, say, was a fantastic ministry, while mine for those who’ve been hurt by church is another, and this person’s commitment to organic food, and this person’s revulsion about sulfide mining, this person’s commitment to healthy families, and this person’s concern for abandoned animals, are all crucial callings? What would it be like if we all brought these to the center and blessed each other’s passions and invited each to pursue them with all the vigor at their disposal?
Jesus was patient with most. The only ones he railed against were the self-righteous and prideful—those who are unwilling to look beyond their own ways of seeing.
Here in Cook County, let’s spend less time and energy judging each other and more time assuming the good in each other, listening, understanding and blessing each other’s callings.
Each month a member of the Cook County Ministerium will offer Spiritual Reflections. This month’s s contributor is Mary Ellen Ashcroft, Vicar of Spirit of the Wilderness Episcopal Church.
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