What Evil Lurks...?

One tough thing that many of us have to deal with is how to deal with people that seem like nice people, but express hateful opinions. Sometimes these people are our relatives, sometimes they're our co-workers, sometimes they're our neighbors. I'm not talking about mere differences in opinion, even though some of those differences may have huge consequences.  There are many ways that we can disagree that don't involve dehumanizing others, or behaving hatefully. Often what separates opposing ways of looking at a problem is the intent behind the opinion.

Religion is overflowing with examples. It's one thing to believe that a certain religious belief or practice is what works best for you, it's quite another to advocate that those who don't hold your religious views be executed.

Wow, that was extreme.

We all know that those people exist, but what about believers who aren't on the fanatical end of the spectrum? How about those who, while not advocating death for the "unbeliever", nonetheless work toward enmeshing their religion and the law, effectively outlawing different beliefs? (or no beliefs) Some, but definitely not all, would agree that this is wrong. But how do you view someone, who is perfectly content to separate church and state, yet believes in her heart of hearts that you and people like you, are so detestable that you will be tortured eternally? That's what Hell is, people. According to the myths, Hell is not some afterlife haven for rebels where all the really cool people go when they die. No, Hell is a place of eternal torment and you deserve to go there for whatever reason your religious buddy thinks is his god's rules. And even if you're nominally of the same religion as Mr. Fire and Brimstone, you might, in his opinion still be damned for not being enough of a believer.

If I have to be around those people I'll deal with it, but I won't like it.

What about politics? A lot of people "aren't political". But there is a significant percentage of the nation who gladly and enthusiastically support "leaders" who spew hateful rhetoric and regularly demonize those who oppose them as "enemies", "scum" and a variety of other epithets. People who proudly parrot what their leaders say about their fellow Americans, their friends, family and neighbors.

How about sports? Think that's safe? I heard a co-worker defend a player who was accused of a crime, not by noting that he hadn't had his day in court yet, but because he was fast and was helping his team win games. Athletes in professional and college sports are regularly protected from the consequences of their actions solely due to their value to their franchises. And fans still pay to see them and cheer them on.

Sometimes I hear people say things, or read comments on social media and wonder: "What's wrong with this person?"

I'm not so un-self-aware that I think every moral person in the world adheres to the same ethical standards that I do, or that those who hold differing opinions are necessarily evil, or stupid, or deplorable, but sometimes I just recoil in horror at what lurks in the hearts of my fellow humans.

More Christian Than the Christians?

Periodically you see someone saying that some one who isn't a Christian is more Christian than actual Christians. This is usually in the context of politics and is meant to point out hypocrisy among some groups of Christians. While I certainly understand the point that is being made, there is a fundamental problem with that kind of comparison. The problem is assuming that Christianity is the yardstick by which we measure morality and that any goodness among non-Christians is due to them living according to Christian principles. I disagree with that assumption.

This isn't because I necessarily believe that New Testament-based morality is wrong, but that it isn't unique. An obvious example is that of the "Golden Rule", usually quoted as "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you". (Do unto others what you want them to do to you - Matthew 7:12) This same "rule" can be documented as far back as 550 B.C. in Confucian China; The Code of Hammurabi contains similar wording another 1200 years earlier. Many of the world religions contain a concept virtually identical concept: Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Taoism and Zoroastrianism all have their versions.

All religions have as part of their ethical core guidelines for getting along with others and for the smooth operation of society. Setting aside dietary and ritual considerations, religious systems codify a commonsense system for people to interact with others with minimal friction. Don't lie, don't cheat, don't steal, be nice to those weaker than you, respect those in authority over you, share your bounty when you are able, do your duty, follow through on your commitments, etc. You can expand on any or all of these and come up with a workable moral foundation. At the root, these moral standards are simply a framework to avoid societal chaos.

While pairing these behavioral expectations with worship of a deity or with ritual observances is common, there is no reason for it to be necessary. Most religious adherents, or even non-adherents, i.e. atheists, would have strong motivation to live harmoniously within society. It doesn't take belief in gods to understand that lying and cheating eventually result in lack of trust by others; that stealing is going to result in some kind of retaliation; that anarchy in government or business is unproductive and dangerous; basically that you act in such a way that you would want to be treated and hope it all works out.

This isn't to suggest that everyone will naturally act ethically without the influence of religion any more than everyone who is a religious person will automatically act ethically. No, I'm just suggesting that telling a non-Christian that they are a good Christian ignores and denigrates their own ethical and moral choices.

Balance

Where does your obligation to others end? When does your need for self care outweigh your consideration for others? Is family really the most important thing? How does forgiveness fit into the picture?

Before launching into my own opinions, I want to state that there is no one answer for everyone. No two people, even those within the same family, have the same life experiences. As with most things, we have to construct our own standards and be content to live with them.

My own viewpoint is, of course, colored by my own experiences. I grew up in close contact with my extended family. My four siblings and I lived in a two-family home that we shared with six cousins who lived upstairs. Cousins and cousins of cousins frequently got together for family events. We regularly visited my two grandmothers and had them over for holidays. My parents and grandparents siblings were part of our extended family. There was occasional friction. My paternal grandmother was famously hard to get along with, and one of my mother's sisters could be counted upon to cause problems at times. Despite these issues, we never cut anyone off from family contact and even someone that we didn't always get along with was welcome in our home. Of course there was more to it than what we saw. Both my father and mother had cousins who, for one reason or another, we never had contact with, except for funerals...maybe. My maternal grandfather, who I was allowed to believe was dead, had been living in upstate New York, where he had no contact with any of his children or grandchildren. It wasn't until he really did die that I accidentally found out about him. Even though, going into adulthood, I knew about these "others", I considered them the exception to the happy families rule. I fully expected that when I started my own family that the same apparent closeness would prevail.

Then I got divorced.

That's a long and painful story, but the relevant chapter is that my ex-wife, convinced to the core that I was evil, convinced our children to break off all contact with me. Some of them may have actually believed what she was telling them, some of them may have just been trying to keep the peace, since she made clear that she strongly disapproved of them having any kind of relationship with me. For several years only one of my six children would have any contact with me. Eventually, as they got older and were less under their mother's day to day influence, they each reestablished contact with me. I envisioned recreating what I perceived as the perfect family dynamic, and for a while it seemed that my idyllic vision had been achieved. But I had not factored in a flaw in my thinking.

The flaw was looking only at what I wanted.

I was so enamored of the concept of "family dinners" that I never considered that my family might not find them quite so wonderful. That they might have perfectly reasonable and acceptable reasons for opting out of these gatherings - some of the time or all of the time. It took me a few years to realize that I am not obligated to host these gatherings and no one is obligated to attend. I have the option to invite family to my home and they have the option to accept the invitation.

One of the qualities that I tried to inculcate in my children was independence. That even though I would support them in their endeavors, and refrain from negative judgement, that I would not function as their safety net once they achieved adulthood. If I could have afforded to send my children to college I would have done it, but other than that, I did not see myself as obligated to pay their bills or protect them from the consequences of their actions. I realize, of course, that many would disagree with this mindset. I'm not advocating that there is only one way to approach this question. There have been a small number of times when I have paid a bill or intervened to help out one of my children, but in each case they haven't asked and it was not a precedent. The other side of the independence coin, one which it took me years to see, was that as a corollary to taking responsibility for their own lives, they weren't taking responsibility for mine. In this example, I still occasionally host family get-togethers, but am fully accepting of the schedules and needs of the family members and am prepared for just me and Susie to attend!

This brings us back to my initial questions: Where does your obligation to others end? When does your need for self care outweigh your consideration for others? I've written a lot of words about one of my own situations, but it comes down to balance. We would indeed be pitiful excuses for human beings if we never considered the needs of others, but what kind of life would we have if we always prioritized others above our own needs? There has to be a balance; and that balance is going to look differently for different people.

For me the balance is connected with a particular view of forgiveness. There's a difference between taking action that incidentally hurts someone's feelings, yet is done with pure motive and something that is done intentionally to injure or of selfish motive. For me, forgiveness is twofold. First, it's refusing to assume that another's actions are intentionally hurtful. This is not particularly easy for me - I am naturally cynical and have to make an effort of will to ignore what seems like the obviously "evil" motive. It's difficult, but not impossible. Secondly, I don't expect to much in order to forgive. I don't even look for an apology. All that I want is for the person that needs the forgiveness to stop doing the things that require forgiving! Change the behavior and let's move on!

That doesn't mean that I continue to allow people to take advantage of or otherwise injure me. If you've stolen from me, I may reestablish our relationship, but I probably won't leave my wallet or any valuables out.

So what's the answer? Facebook has a "relationship status" called "It's Complicated". And that's the answer - it's complicated. Ask yourself whether staying angry at your sister or cousin or parent is worth burying that relationship forever. On the other hand, ask yourself whether maintaining that relationship is worth the damage to your own peace of mind and sanity. 

Find the balance.