Sunday, April 14, 2013

Following Fairness



In 2006, writer A.J. Jacobs endeavored to spend a year following every rule he could find in the Bible. Yes, even the Old Testament rules about sacrificing pigeons and stoning adulterers. He wrote a book about his experience called The Year of Living Biblically. My friend Julie gave it to me and said, "You have to read this." So I am.

I'm only a third of the way through but I can already recommend this book. It's clever, funny, thoughtful, and honest. Jacobs is an unbeliever from a Jewish family and he approaches his project with no little skepticism and misunderstanding of religious traditions. I find myself reading about his experiences in month three of his experiment and hoping desperately that he'll see the truth of the gospel by month twelve. I have even considered praying for such an outcome, but then I get bogged down in mental back-and-forth about praying for something in the past and God being outside of time and yadda yadda. It's hard to keep from skipping ahead. But the thing I like most about Jacobs and his book isn't his appreciation or affirmation of my beliefs. It's his fairness.

When he's not writing books about self-imposed herculean projects (his first book was about his experience of reading the entire Encyclopedia Britannica) Jacobs writes for Esquire magazine. He's a journalist, even if his current employer is as much a purveyor of entertainment as reporting. His treatment of the biblical texts shows that he's capable of appreciating and presenting disparate beliefs without espousing them. He can think critically without criticizing. He can suspend judgement long enough to research an opposing viewpoint; in this case, an entire year.

It's refreshing and rare to find that quality in today's media. And it's ironic, I think, to find qualities in a writer for a lifestyle magazine that are often lacking in reporters attending "hard news" beats.

But this isn't an article about journalism. A.J. Jacobs isn't just an anomaly in his field, but in his culture. We seem to be losing our ability to weigh arguments objectively.

Donald Miller wrote about this recently.

A few little buttons on the internet have created an entire new way of seeing the world...These days, you can opt in or opt out, agree or disagree, be a follower or an unfollower, a friend or foe. But what gets lost is something dramatic: nuanced thought. We are no longer able to separate the baby from the bathwater. If I write a blog that has one point people disagree with, they unfollow, they are against. It seems in our rush to create tribes, we’ve created exactly that, tribes. But sadly, we’ve created tribes at war with each other.

I think this dynamic was at play in the recent testimony of a Planned Parenthood spokesperson against a proposed Florida statute that would require health care for any infant delivered as the result of a botched abortion. I do not believe that Planned Parenthood is an evil army of Satan bent on killing newborns. But I suspect that Planned Parenthood is an organization so defined by opposition (we will oppose anything proposed by pro-life organizations) that they are willing to literally throw babies out with bathwater. Ask any Planned Parenthood staffer whether it should be legal to kill Americans without a trial and they'll likely say no. Ask them whether they oppose a bill supported by pro-lifers to that effect and they're much more likely to say yes.

The difference is about tribes, and what's missing is fairness.

But before we start to feel too "holier-than-thou" about Planned Parenthood, maybe we Christians should take a look at our own fairness. Do we engage in knee-jerk opposition to anyone not affiliated with our tribe? Do we believe they're not trustworthy if they're not Christian? evangelical? conservative? pro-life? pro-gun? Are we willing to grant that those with whom we disagree can make valid, even strong, arguments? Are we willing to suspend our judgement long enough to explore issues from their worldview? And to do so long enough and with an open mind rather than just as an exercise in rooting out the weakest links in their position? Are Christians known for walking a mile in others' shoes the way A.J. Jacobs did in 2006?

Too often we reflect the culture of the "unfollow generation" when we value tribe over truth.

Tuesday, April 02, 2013

Sears, Roebuck and King David



My dad hates Sears. I don't remember why. He once got a bad product or bad service there and now he refuses to shop there. I do remember the first time he told me that, though. I'm pretty sure his exact words were, "We don't shop at Sears," as if this was a family dictum passed down from father to son since the days of Roebuck. If I asked him about it now, he probably wouldn't remember his vendetta against Sears, but it made an impression on me years ago.

I remembered the Sanders / Sears Feud this morning when I read King David's dying words to his son Solomon in 1 Kings 2. In just of 12 verses, as David feels the pull of eternity and struggles to deliver one last admonition to his beloved son and heir, the Great King of Israel, the man after God's own heart leaves Solomon with two important tasks:

  • Kill Joab.
  • Kill Shimei.


Seriously, that's it. Verse 1 says, "When the time drew near for David to die, he gave a charge to Solomon his son." Then he tells him who to bump off. I had to double-check to see if I was reading out of the Martin Scorsese-edited version (The Freakin' Message). Suddenly, I pictured David with an Italian accent and Solomon in a double breasted suit and fedora.

"Hey, Sol. Come over here. I got a job for ya. I got two wise guys I need yous to whack."

There are probably lessons here about Machiavellian power struggles or just getting bitter in our old age, but the question I landed on had to do with Sears. While I was patting myself on the back, ("At least my family isn't that bad") I wondered, "What vendettas am I leaving to my son?" What subtle messages am I sending? We don't associate with those people. We don't behave like those people. We make fun of these other people.

Mind you, I don't think that's all bad. I don't think it's immoral for me to inherit my dad's disdain for Sears. I'm sure my son will inherit some of my biases as well as some of my good qualities. I just want to be careful. I just want to be aware of which family feuds I'm fueling.

"See how these people oppress others and violate human rights? We don't approve of that, son."
"See how these people celebrate sin? That's a shame, son."
"See how these people wear saggy pants? They are evil and stupid, son."

It may be harder than we think to edit our parenting messages and deliver them clearly. Somewhere between my dad and king David, there's a balance to strike. I hope I'm finding the right center point.

What about you? What biases did your parents pass on to you—good or bad? What vendettas are you passing on to your kids?