I'd venture we identify with words like
"tolerance," "inclusion," and "empathy." We fancy
ourselves unbound by dogmas, receptive to differences, and willing participants
in diversity. We even try to think about these feelings and issues, understanding
that our personal views are shaped and are being shaped by social, cultural,
and political forces we neither control nor approve.
There are lots of reasons to be frustrated, infuriated, and
eager to withdraw. We need consolation and reprieve, tools for mental health,
and methods to flourish when just surviving is no small matter. These stresses
are real because no one can manage them to immunity or invulnerability. Being
human is a storm punctuated by moments of fair weather. It seems enough to have
to care about our own lives, it will require that much more to care about
others.
This piece makes a simple enough argument and uses an
example that is likely unfamiliar to most.
*First, we must find a deeper peace in the disturbance
itself. The hurricane may not feel like refuge and it may not be safe, but
that's the first acknowledgement to be made. There is no safe and refuge is not
just in some calm eye or at the periphery or in the few days we get
"off." Meditation may take us from the hurricane's forces but the
weather awaits us wherever we go. Our thesis is that the storm itself is our
primary resource. Put another way, it is in being with our contrariety that we
become more attuned to the feelings and ideas that shape us and that we try to
shape.
*Second, we need to look at others' worlds, others' views,
others' imaginings, histories, and traditions. We must do this not only because
we live in the world with people with differing views and values (like it or
not) but because to see oneself we must learn how to imagine who we are not.
Introspection is comparison, evaluation, and preference--- to think otherwise
because you are tolerant or inclusive is another kind of self-delusion. We
cannot question our assumptions but from within the greater structures
---somatic, cognitive, social, historical--- in which they already exist. To
frame worlds we need to try to find the outlines, the dimensions, and the forms
that shape. None of us are immune to our bias and neither should we be. If we
have done the hard work of contrariety then our opinions are hard won _and_ we
might be willing to be changed. Let's embrace that paradox to move this
argument forward.
In the deeply arcane world of modern theologies where angels
still dance with pinheads, I take a certain notice. It's my job and I still
work to fend off too much familiarity, because with too much "I got
this" and one becomes lazy, predisposed to think that you _really_ got
this. We're better off staying curious enough to read closely, reach out to
hone our critical skills, and remember that contrariety means looking for _yet
another angle, argument, point of view_. Part of being in the storm is knowing
that you can't always predict the weather. Taking imbalance, asymmetry, and
limited lines of sight as normal creates more alignment, greater resilience,
and honest perspective. Let's not get grandiose: our limitations are crucial to
developing our gifts and making the most of our assets. To progress and to grow
is to invite the discomforting and trial some for the sake of greater findings.
To take up the contrarian life is to bathe in the irony that
to cultivate "contrary" is to soak in empathy. To criticize ---not to
diminish, discredit, or project disdain--- but _to understand_ means doing the
impossible: trying to see the world as others see, imagining a life you don't
lead and aren't likely to embrace. And then apply this very strategy to one's
self. This is the core of the contrarian method: learning to imagine, to think,
to feel so that one can evaluate, take stock and pause before a hasty judgment.
And, yes, you _will_ judge, to dismiss judgment is just another form of
judgment. We are always in the business of deciding, classifying, ranking,
gauging and guesstimating.
Vital to the process is how we understand the stakes. When
the stakes are low for us ---what do you think of the guy who doesn't share
your love of beets?--- we need not lean so angularly into our preferences as if
they are superior. We endanger our abilities not only to tolerate but to fathom
the difference between what is important and what is not. But make no mistake
about it, we may be flawed, inadequate, and out of our league when we assay the
world, but we are going to do it anyway.
Even the most virtuosic stumble and fail.
Rajanaka calls that humbling process of learning
"contrariety" so that we find out what more is possible than
confirming our opinions. Rather, we learn more about how to question, placing
our arguments (not quarreling, arguing) and feelings (bias, preference,
structural prejudice) more in front and before. This could take time to explain
but the storm will not wait. Contrariety is the process of being in the storm,
staying in the storm, storming back at the storm, and knowing that whatever
fair weather you enjoy is worth cherishing. It's coming again, there's nothing
to protect you but your willingness to stay in the tempest of learning.
It's crucial too to consider how much is decided, appraised,
sized up and negotiated _before_ we are aware cognitively. Our bodies assess
first, our minds follow, and the process of choice is neither self-evident nor
always actual. Appa used to say that the unconscious is front of us looking
back towards us---even when we think it is deeply buried or informing us from
behind our awareness. What has been chosen or adjudged, derived and reckoned is
no small matter. There are many tools for interrogating these processes, not
the least of which are the evocative, symbolic, allegorical resources of myth,
poetry, mantra, and other forms of "indirect" inquiry and
exploration.
To discover more about ourselves we actually have to care
about how others formulate their worlds. We need not assume everyone wants the
same things from life, much less that there is a right way, a destination, a
goal, or meaning that we all share. In fact, none of those things might exist
at all but for our complex processes of invention and contrivance. This doesn't
make them less real, only more human: conditioned, provisional, unfinished, and
dynamic. "All," "every," "always," are words that
we must use and cautiously if we are to fathom the real diversity and
difference that is just as human as our sameness in species.
So again, what's with people? And more pointedly, their
deepest convictions, traditions, traumatic histories, morals, and feelings that
get channeled through the word "religion." If you prefer to say that
you are "spiritual" and not "religious" it's worth
considering more seriously what it is you think makes you warm to one word and
rebuff the other. It matters more that you embark on this more illusive task:
what do you want from this distinction rather than what you already believe is
the distinction you think you're making.
I'm making a claim here that warrants divulgence. Religion
deals with incongruities: between what we want and what say we want, what we
hope and what happens, about the difference we try to fathom between what we
experience and what appears without our input or consent. In Rajanaka we use
the word "paradox" to describe our human condition. The world we see
does indeed "go on" without us ---before, during, and after, there's
a world "out there." But that same "object" world is our
human experience world and we are each "subjects" in it and deciding
about it (until, of course, we are not). So there's a there out there and it's
also in us and this situation of realities isn't one way or another, it's both
and. We left to consider what's on offer and what do we want. Religion is a
real part of that story because it informs from behind, during, and it helps
determine important issues for our future. The point I want to emphasize is
that we're not all the same even though we are all human---more paradox to
embrace. I don't expect everyone to agree. (This fact only makes the point, of
course.)
I have a good friend who describes himself as a faithful,
relatively conservative Catholic. No amount of 21st century evaluations of the
natural world's origins and processes repudiates the tenets of his faith. He is
educated, sophisticated, and skilled in critical thinking. But he _really_
believes this stuff and when I tease (not really) and say things that would
offend (deeply), he takes it well and maintains that his convictions inform his
life. I am content to regard these matters in terms of his behavior. He would
not contend that one has to be Catholic or religious to be moral or even to get
to heaven, where he assures me he will advocate for my inclusion should Peter
not find me wholly in the Lord's graces. I jest, but the issues at stake are
certainly practical: how do people treat one another, what do they expect of
others, and in what ways do their views and values shape, influence, and impose
on others. Who gets to decide what?
Appa took ultimacy off the table. He centered his concerns
on living our mortal life as wholly mortal. He didn't think that opinions,
feelings, and behaviors about things ultimate don't matter. If you think there
is a God, an afterlife, a before-life, enlightenment, superior forms of awareness
(put here _every_ meditation tradition's claims), all of these sorts of beliefs
tell you not only what you want but how you might interact or influence others.
We might claim that we are not interested in imposing or indoctrinating others
but that is always more a matter of degree than of fact.
It's not a simple equation that allows us to say 'live and
let' live is an absolute, no matter how that value plays its part. We actually
care what others insist is theirs to believe even if they insist they harbor no
views at all (this is an interesting Buddhist claim, for example) or that their
views do no mean to impede others' freedom. The important difference between
what one believes one "should" or "must" do--- and so
others too--- and what one will tolerate even when such ideas or actions
violate one's own norms or tenets. What really is okay with us is not always
okay with others, not by a long shot.
Inside the Catholic Church right now is a deeply insular
argument that involves the role of Catholic dogma and political involvements.
If you can stand it, look at this piece in the NYTimes where the factionalism
and the dispute involves Vatican politics that represent very different
interpretations of dogma.
(https://www.nytimes.com/2017/08/02/world/europe/vatican-us-catholic-conservatives.html?module=WatchingPortal®ion=c-column-middle-span-region&pgType=Homepage&action=click&mediaId=thumb_square&state=standard&contentPlacement=19&version=internal&contentCollection=www.nytimes.com&contentId=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.nytimes.com%2F2017%2F08%2F02%2Fworld%2Feurope%2Fvatican-us-catholic-conservatives.html&eventName=Watching-article-click).
If you have a real fascination with how these things are
argued using terms like "dominionist theology,"
"Manichaeism," "prosperity gospel," and all the way to
"in hoc signo vinces," go read the article that is all the current
fuss.
(here:
http://www.laciviltacattolica.it/articolo/evangelical-fundamentalism-and-catholic-integralism-in-the-usa-a-surprising-ecumenism/).
Okay, that was asking a lot. So here are the two crucial
paragraphs that outline the so-called liberals' position.
"The religious element should never be confused with
the political one. Confusing spiritual power with temporal power means
subjecting one to the other. An evident aspect of Pope Francis’ geopolitics
rests in not giving theological room to the power to impose oneself or to find
an internal or external enemy to fight. There is a need to flee the temptation
to project divinity on political power that then uses it for its own ends.
Francis empties from within the narrative of sectarian millenarianism and
dominionism that is preparing the apocalypse and the “final clash.”[2]
Underlining mercy as a fundamental attribute of God expresses this radically
Christian need.
Francis wants to break the organic link between culture,
politics, institution and Church. Spirituality cannot tie itself to governments
or military pacts for it is at the service of all men and women. Religions
cannot consider some people as sworn enemies nor others as eternal friends.
Religion should not become the guarantor of the dominant classes. Yet it is
this very dynamic with a spurious theological flavor that tries to impose its
own law and logic in the political sphere."
This is not easy to interpret, as if Pope Francis is somehow
okay with legal abortion rights (actually human body rights), same-sex
marriage, or other matters the Church is willing to see politically to its own
ends. So what in fact is the tribal fight among Catholic theologies
(authorities, hierarchies, etc.) if both sides agree that certain claims on
human behavior require "moral" adjudication with plainly political
outcomes? Both conservatives and liberals believe the sin of abortion warrants
political intervention. How is their moral and religious conviction not
political?
It's complicated then how these folks think their religious
worldviews implicate others who share neither worldviews nor values--- and
would oppose their impositions should they demand too dominance in doctrinal
views in the realm of opposed secular law. The liberal authors in the cited
article clearly see the threat of secularism to be a major concern. But the
heart of the matter for them is that conservative Catholics are distorting
religious views _and_ becoming political bedfellows with evangelical Protestants
in America particularly. They are indeed arguing for _some_ kind of important
distinction between Church and State, though it's seems too nuanced to give
them more leverage than the conservatives' who say in effect "our beliefs
demand _these specific_ political actions." Black and white is always an
easier sell and that is a real part of what hovers around the issues dividing
these factions. After all, rearranging hearts and minds means finding triggers,
appealing to visceral experiences, thinking-less, feeling-more is the easy
path.
In another strange feature of this story there is yet
another NYTimes piece from a conservative Catholic the core of the argument is
that to be an "orthodox" Christian will take removal not only from
political allegiances but from the secular world as such. These folks are
advocating for a kind of Catholicism that like orthodox Judaism has restricted
contact with non-believers and even less political investments. They have
decided the jig is up, they've lost to secularism, and it's time to retreat
into their own kinds of belief communities. This is a very different strategy
that will appeal to very few.
(https://www.nytimes.com/2017/08/02/opinion/trump-scaramucci-evangelical-christian.html)
Just how we think our beliefs and values _should_ enter the
world in ways that impose upon others is something we all need to think about.
Not only because America is politically in the hands of religious fanatics but
because _everyone_ harbors convictions that are beyond compromise. Differences
cut deeply and when they cut to the core, we must each ask ourselves what we
are prepared _to do_, what will we demand and insist, when do our beliefs and
values ask more from us than tolerance. The storm will never rage less.
