Praying for Peace

Perfect Whole is a smart, witty blog written by Julie Goldberg Springer. Reading Julie’s posts is a joy. The blog is always worth a visit.  

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About two weeks ago, Julie wrote a thoughtful piece, “Don’t Pray for Peace,” which succinctly considered what might be needed, and might not be so needed, in trying to reduce violent conflict in the world. In that post, Julie expressed ideas that echo many people’s sentiments. They are important ideas, and I wish to respond to them on a personal level. I hope that I am interpreting Julie accurately. If I am not, then I stand ready to be corrected.

Don't Pray for Peace

Julie’s post suggests that prayer is essentially a private action, one carried out in pursuit of “inner peace.” Prayer does not help generate solutions to political conflict, Julie posits; to the contrary, prayer offers “manna,” a sent-from-elsewhere miracle substance that convinces people—correctly or not—that their problems have been solved. Easing violent strife requires painful nuts-and-bolts negotiation, and an emphasis on prayer might well distract interested parties from that gruesome work. Prayer, like a drug, tempts belligerents to abandon the “excruciating compromise . . . that forces one group or another to let go or something they’re sure they need to survive.” Only excruciating compromise, and not grace, can propel one down the long, tortuous path toward peace.

I agree that prayer can distract from nuts-and-bolts negotiation. Some people use prayer to escape from worldly difficulties. But, I believe, to reduce prayer to escapism is to distort its nature and shortchange its transformative effects. Prayer’s most powerful effect is to connect us to the Source of All, to prompt us to surrender to the magnificent force of love that is the one true reality. Such surrender humbles us. It strips us of pride and ego and reveals to us the full humanness of the other.

Because intergroup conflict is ego writ large, fostering humility can only assuage intergroup conflict. Genuine prayer, as I understand it, in no way breeds tribalism and its resulting intransigence; to the contrary, heartfelt prayer enables us to recognize that we are one with our opponent. Negotiation requires patient, open listening, which depends on humility—the very sort of humility that comes from genuine prayer. Prayer should not be equated with the self-satisfied, “Godly” ethnocentrism in which many Jews, Muslims, and Christians wrap themselves. These “true believers” are but a small—if especially visible—fragment of those who pray.

How might the prayer of Americans equip belligerents in the Middle East to negotiate more openly and faithfully? Even with their hearts melted and their spirits humbled, Americans remain at safe distance from the Middle East conflict and so can easily afford its luxury. How exactly can our prayer impact them?

It can impact them in two ways, I believe. First, if love could somehow come to inform the attitudes of the rest of the world, then it would help pressure both sides of the conflict to cease hostility and begin conversation. The world is a small, interconnected place. Parties to the conflict cannot help but respond to outside pressure.

Prayer affects conflict in a more direct way. To take seriously my assertions here, you the reader must engage my beliefs about reality open-mindedly or share them already.

I believe that prayer—like meditation, lovingkindness, and service work—opens channels to the divine and brings it more fully and palpably into the lived experience of all humanity. Those who know the power of prayer generally believe that it does far more than bring them personal, “inner peace.” They know, quite literally, that the prayers of some people cause the divine force to impact the circumstances of all people. Prayer doesn’t humble only those who pray; prayer humbles humanity by bringing ultimate reality—peace and love—to bear directly on the human condition.

If one believes in the transformative effects of prayer, then my assertions are unnecessary; if one does not, then my assertions are worthless. To the skeptic, my remarks may seem idealistic, foolish, or perhaps even dangerous. Belief in such “magic,” the skeptic might say, can only lull us to sleep and divert us from the real work of solving conflict. The skeptic is likely fated to see prayer only as part of the problem rather than part of the solution. I would respond, respectfully, that most of us who pray in no way see ourselves as escaping from the world. Quite the opposite. Prayer’s utility, I suppose, remains in the eye of the beholder.

Marriage in Utah

This past Tuesday, Utah became the first state to seek a U.S. Supreme Court ruling on a law banning same-sex marriage. That state’s attorney general is hoping that the Court will reverse a ruling by the Tenth’s Circuit Court of Appeals. That ruling had struck down an amendment to Utah’s constitution limiting marriage to opposite-sex couples.

Let us consider how Utah explains its underlying position. And, as generously as possible, let us consider what to make of it.

In its petition seeking Supreme Court review, Utah appeals to the political prerogative of its citizens and their elected representatives to legislate marriage policy. The petition contends that the Tenth Circuit’s ruling “deprives Utah citizens of the ‘fundamental right’ to ‘act through a lawful electoral process’” to enact a statute reflecting their moral convictions. In that stance, we can hear echoes of the centuries-old assertion that, because of their distinctive moral views, Utahns deserve a measure of political autonomy. To the federalists on SCOTUS, this claim may be compelling. Who are the federal courts to tell the people of Utah that their moral convictions may not be encoded into law?

Utahns’ moral views are at the heart of the complaint, the petition asserts. What are those views? Purportedly, that the vast majority of Utahns understand marriage differently from how others do. According to the petition, the underlying issue is not quite what it seems. The issue is not that one or the other side of the marriage issue favors equal treatment under law, but that the sides hold divergent concepts of what marriage is and what it does. Allegedly, Utahns’ view of marriage does not hinge on the exclusive validity of opposite-sex unions per se. To be valid, they believe, marriage needs to do something more than bring together a man and woman.

What is it that renders a marriage moral and legitimate? According to the petition, morality and legitimacy are matters of how marriage functions in society. The function of good and genuine marriages is not to bring happiness or wellbeing to adults. Marriages do not exist to make people’s lives fuller and richer. Utahns allegedly reject the idea that “mere loving relationships” of any sort are the rightful basis for state-sanctioned union.

In rejecting this so-called “adult-centric view,” Utahans supposedly insist that marriage be “biologically based, primarily child-centered, and [possessing] a conjugal meaning.” The “primary purpose” of their concept of marriage lies in “uniting every child to his or her biological mother and father.” The brief maintains that Utahans have historically and consistently subscribed to the “child-centric” concept, while the adult-centric view has remained foreign to Utah’s culture.

The core of the state’s constitutional claim is that “the people of the state of Utah retain the right to create laws recognizing their own deeply-held beliefs.” And, more specifically, the petition insists that “Utah has long exercised its power to define marriage.” Because “the definition and regulation of marriage” historically “has been treated as being within the authority and realm of the separate States,” the state of Utah is entitled to make marriage policy consonant with the values embraced continuously by its popular majority—values that preclude the legalization of non-conjugal marriage.

Utah's Petition for a Writ of Certiorari 

Let’s put aside Utah’s claim that sexual minorities do not deserve constitutional protection, that the Fourteenth Amendment’s Equal Protection Clause does not apply to marriage, and that there is no fundamental right to marry an adult of one’s choosing. Let’s instead open-mindedly consider Utah’s celebration of “child-centric” marriage. How might marriage conform to that principle? Does it ever actually do so? Might Utahns possibly adhere to it?

Creating an optimal family setting for any children present seems like a good thing. But how can we anticipate the conditions that would best serve children? Having two parents present would seem useful, but single parents often provide wonderful upbringings, especially with other loving adults around. Perhaps we could require an examination for mental fitness. Perhaps we could demand that prospective parents demonstrate a history of responsible behavior. Perhaps a minimum family income is in order. But none of these seems either necessary or sufficient for providing a loving, caring upbringing. Nor does the presence of a mother and a father, despite religious conservatives’ claims to the contrary. Anyone who has spent time with same-sex parents and their children knows this first hand.

It seems difficult at best to anticipate the optimal circumstances in which to raise children. Formulas for doing so are woefully inadequate. Utah’s formula certainly falls short, as it would—and historically has—permitted the raising of children in fundamentalist communities, with charismatic leaders, where personal boundaries are violated as a matter of course. Can we even take Utah at face value when it talks about “child-centricity”?

Exactly how far would Utah be prepared to go to ensure that marriages be “biologically based, primarily child-centered, and [possessing] a conjugal meaning”? Would the state be ready to require that wives be of childbearing age? Would the state require prospective couples to sign forms requiring them to attempt to bear children? Would the state dissolve infertile marriages? Would it set a mandatory minimum—seven, say—of children to be generated by every couple? Would it penalize couples who failed to meet these requirements?

Indeed, it is unlikely that many Utahns themselves would adhere to such a formula—as opposed to requiring others to conform to it. Indeed, would most residents of any state ever be willing honestly to forego marriage as a “mere loving relationship” and instead choose spouses solely for their reproductive capacity? Are many Utahns eager, all declarations aside, to ignore interpersonal chemistry and/or romantic attachment when choosing a partner? It seems doubtful. It seems much more likely that Utah is looking simply to ban same-sex marriages.

We owe it to Utah to take seriously its claims that its residents recognize a conception of marriage entirely different from what most Americans accept. But those claims, under scrutiny, prove spurious.

My Politics Problem

I have a problem with reading and processing politics. Its effects on me can be devastating.

I love to think about events in the outside world. I love to discuss politics, society, and law with friends, to write about them, and to teach about them. I tend to focus on worldviews different from my own, especially when I write. I seek to cultivate intellectual rigor and flexibility in my students. All this is worth my time, and I do it voraciously.

The health of the world depends on people thinking critically, I believe—breaking down ideas, considers counterarguments, and reaching provisional conclusions that can be amended or scrapped. Through teaching and writing about socio-politics, I guide others through this process. I contribute to the world by helping people learn to process ideas in ways that open up intellectual space. New socio-political opportunities arise when people think open-mindedly, rigorously, and creatively. I encourage students to approach history, including current history, with humility. By respectfully considering others’ conclusions, students fertilize their intellectual environment. They help change the world by thinking clearly and flexibly.

I am not a casual person. I respond to everything I do with emotional intensity. Observing politics and society is no exception.

Much as world events bring me pleasure, they also cause me distress. Political issues elicit powerful emotions in me, as they do in many people. Besides becoming inspired, I also become disgusted, desperate, and enraged. These emotions have value: they motivate people to repair institutions and achieve social justice. But, in teaching students to see beyond human differences, tumult harms me more than helps me.

I am an observer and converser, not an activist. Desperation interferes with humble reflection and discussion; it obstructs my ability to teach critical thinking. My writing, which focuses on belief systems different from mine, especially suffers when I feel enraged. Although these powerful emotions sometimes prompt spirited discussion, they can cause me to act in ways that hardly benefit me or the people who come into contact with me.

Moment to moment, I aim to cultivate serenity and flexibility, and my political rage drives me toward resentment and anger. Rage drives me to speak sharply and sow discord. Reading about political issues sparks my inner monster. I cannot teach effectively when I’m in monster mode.

My work in the world depends not only on broadmindedness but also on equanimity. Spiritual as well as intellectual wellbeing is paramount. Whenever I take in national and world news, I struggle to maintain gratitude and mindfulness.

To maintain equanimity, I periodically tune out the socio-political world. I’m not necessarily happy about this. My line of work depends on my reading and processing events in the outside world. But I am most dedicated to enacting love, and I love less when I argue more. And so, at times, I consciously remain unconscious of world events.

Still, I remain a compulsive consumer of politics. I cannot abstain for long.

My challenge lies in integrating my primary imperatives. How do I pursue excellence in all its aspects? How do I emotionally engage political and social events and still teach and write about them effectively? How do I consider national and international conflict in ways that open up space rather than shut it down?

To be sure, I do manage to integrate these tasks. My students and readers express satisfaction. But I could do a better job.

Real American Jesus

According to a recent YouGov survey, a mere 28 percent of registered Republicans (versus 68 percent of Democrats) believe that Jesus would support tightening the nation’s gun laws.

http://cdn.yougov.com/cumulus_uploads/document/bpuzgpfb2b/tabs_OPI_wwjd_20140702.pdf 

Really?

Of course!

Meet Real American Jesus, who hates fags and war protestors and love guns and free enterprise. Meet Real American Jesus, who pulls himself up by his bootstraps and never relies on the “nanny state.”

This is not the historical Jesus who loved tenderness and compassion. This Jesus bears no relation to the Jesus who animated American activists such as Angela Grimké, Washington Gladden, Dorothy Day, and Martin Luther King. Real American Jesus has nothing to do with the Jesus who informs and inspires Christian pacifism and social activism in our own time.

Real American Jesus is the emblem embraced by those citizens who pride themselves and their friends on being purer, more rugged, less spoiled, and less decadent than the rest of us.

Real Americanism has been around for quite a while. It is claimed by that portion of the American population—white, Christian, predominantly rural—that has historically pointed to itself as the nation’s genuine solid core, the mytho-spiritual essence of what America is really all about. This is a mythos that lauds self-reliance and personal honor. It loathes government assistance programs. It is “manly.” It owns guns. It tends to be conveyed through a gut-level, anti-intellectualism—an “I know what I believe and I don’t need to debate it” certainty. And it animates much (although not all) of present-day American conservatism.

Gun-owners demonstrate their sense of themselves as America’s true essence in a recent Pew study. There, adults living in a home with a gun owner identified themselves “a typical American” more than did adults in non-gun households (72 percent versus 62 percent). Adults in gun households claimed “honor and duty are my core values” more than did those in non-gun homes (59 percent versus 48 percent). And gun householders reported that they “feel proud to be American” more than those in non-gun homes (64 percent versus 51 percent).

http://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2014/07/15/the-demographics-and-politics-of-gun-owning-households/ 

Real Americans refuse to complicate gut-level traditional ideas. This was sympathetically noted by historian Eugene Genovese. Genovese identified a manner in which conservatives generally speak to one another: a rhetorical mode of discourse, in which custom is embraced and defended rather than debunked. Genovese distinguished this from the dialectical mode of discourse, through which liberals debate and dissect ideas instead of defending them as received.  [The Southern Tradition: The Achievement and Limitations of an American Conservatism (1994).]

Typical of the former was George W. Bush, the Decider, who often bragged that he didn’t need to think too hard to distinguish right from wrong. He simply relied on his gut, which surely didn’t deceive him. He advanced traditional American verities without subjecting them to much scrutiny.

Anti-intellectualism and expressive certainty colored the Republican 2008 campaign against Barack Obama, especially by those claiming that Real Americans mistrusted Obama and opposed his election. Michelle Bachmann and Sarah Palin led the self-certain charge against “anti-Americanism.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eJIQm_7YAUI&feature=related.

During that election we met “Joe the Plumber,” who embodied the Real American mythical ideal—a work-with-his-hands kind of guy who probably could have used economic assistance but would never have stooped that low. Joe the Plumber was the kind of regular guy who hated effete men such as Obama. Joe the Plumber was a rugged individualist. Joe knew wrong from right. He didn’t need no fancy thinking.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rL97vWgSp7U. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mOgEVwcHas0&feature=related. 

For Real Americans, Jesus serves as their symbolic ideal. It comes as little surprise that only 9 percent of registered Republicans surveyed by YouGov respond that Jesus would support same-sex marriage, or that only 18 percent of Republicans imagine that Jesus would support high taxes on the wealthy, or that only 23 percent think that he would support universal health care, or that only 31 percent think he would support reductions in carbon emissions, or that only 28 percent believe that he would support stricter gun laws.

Real Americans may not comprise the popular majority of U.S. citizens. But Real Americans celebrate themselves as the nation’s true, uncorrupted mythic core. And they would affirm, with a Palinesque “you betcha!,” that a twentieth-century Jesus would surely have dwelled among their ranks.

Gridlock and Culture Wars

In June, the Pew Research Center released the findings from its largest ever study of Americans’ political attitudes. Those findings won’t shock any observer of society and government. They reveal a polity in which increasing numbers of citizens identify as either “consistently liberal” or “consistently conservative,” with fewer people describing themselves as ideologically “mixed.”

The Pew study finds deepening “ideological silos,” in which more and more Americans dislike and/or avoid people ideologically unlike themselves. Significant numbers of consistent conservatives (63 percent) and consistent liberals (49 percent) report that their close friends share their political orientation. Increasing numbers choose to live in areas where their neighbors are likely to share their views. Many say they would be unhappy if a family member married someone affiliated with the opposite party.

These findings reinforce what social scientists have known for years: that differences in policy preferences and political behaviors correlate with a wide range of other cultural tendencies. This was the thesis of James Davison Hunter’s 1991 Culture Wars, which posited that much of the American population falls into opposing camps with respective “orthodox” and “progressive” worldviews that shape their political and social behavior.

The Pew study suggests that consistent conservatives (CCs) and consistent liberals (CLs) possess diverging worldviews that inform their patterns of and attitudes toward everyday living. Whereas CCs prefer living in large houses a far distance apart, with schools, stores, and restaurants several miles away, CLs tend to live in smaller homes with amenities close nearby. Only 23 percent of CCs care about living near theaters and art museums, while 73 percent of liberals do. Only 20 percent of CCs value living amid racial and ethnic diversity, whereas 76 percent of CLs value living in diverse communities.

In contrast, 73 percent of CCs, but only 24 percent of CLs, would be troubled if a family member married someone who didn’t believe in God. 23 percent of CCs, but only 1 percent of CLs, say they’d be unhappy with a family member’s marriage to someone of a different race. And, not surprisingly, 49 percent of CCs, but only 5 percent of CLs, would be happy if someone in their immediate family married a gun owner.

http://www.people-press.org/2014/06/12/political-polarization-in-the-american-public/ 

All of this ought to make us think twice about condemning government officials for their bitter partisanship, which simply reflects ideological divergence within the wider population. Indeed, Pew reports that “both liberals and conservatives define the optimal political outcome as one in which their side gets more of what it wants.” It seems liberal and conservative voters resemble elected officials more than they would care to admit. Most of us may dislike gridlock and applaud when government somehow manages to get things done; at the same time, many of us want our elected officials to fight to enact policies that reflect our own ideological preferences.

I suspect that most readers of this post adhere quite consistently to their political convictions. For those of us who do, how willing are we really to see our leaders compromise on matters that matter? If we were a member of Congress, would we fight to pass legislation that embodied our strong preferences, or would we prioritize building bridges with differently inclined others?  If we represented a district where a large majority was comprised of either CCs or CLs, how consistently and vehemently would we act on behalf of that majority?

If we would remain faithful to our own or our constituents’ staunch convictions, then how fair is it to blame our leaders’ tendency to do likewise?

Group Identity?

My wife and I think about sending our son to a Jewish day school. A day-school student receives, alongside secular instruction, an education in Hebrew language and in Jewish thought and practice. He is instructed as a Jew.

Even at a progressively oriented Jewish day school, students come to see themselves as belonging to a people that has historically, to one extent or another, understood itself as distinct from its surrounding culture. For me this is both the cost and the benefit of such schooling.

Ethnocentrism is of humanity’s great scourges. Nations, races, tribes, and religions wage war, in large part, because they often cannot or will not try to see through their neighbors’ eyes—indeed, because they can’t imagine that their neighbors even have real viewpoints or legitimate interests. Why, then, disconnect our children from children of other groups? At the same time, belonging to a subculture or group can sustain people in many ways. As descendants or allegiants, we get to stand on countless shoulders. Why deny ourselves such resources?

Is particularistic identity a problem or a source of strength for individuals? for humanity as a whole? Are children rooted in particular communities more or less likely to care for society? Must ethics in our own times be based on universal identity? On what sort of ground does love most fully flourish?

Finding Harmony amid Difference

What’s with the name “Conflict/Harmony”?

“Conflict/Harmony” speaks to a paradox characterizing society and polity. Human life, at its most fundamental level, is but a whole—a living, breathing reflection of the One Source, the singular essence that constitutes itself by flowing though each of us. Yet, at the phenomenological level, humanity manifest as millions upon millions of differently inclined individuals who affiliate into countless groups standing apart from, and often in tension with, countless other groups. Human beings identify themselves by marking themselves as “other than.” And otherness is more than an identity marker. Members of religions, nations, ideologies, ethnicities, and other identity groups see through eyes distinctive from their neighbors’ eyes. Otherness is a crucial dimension of experience. To realize our fundamental identity as one with our neighbor, we must honor rather than ignore or deny our differences from them.

Are humans hopelessly divided among themselves?

Certainly not. Acts of generosity, humility, and lovingkindness continuously bridge the gaps between us. On a personal, spiritual level, such acts can occur simply and instantaneously. But on the level of society and polity, conflicting groups or individuals—as we know all too well—often resist reconciliation. Although fundamental oneness runs through all human beings, it may seem inaccessible. Nor should leaders impose the singularity their constituents may sometimes desire. With good reason, liberal democracies resist treating their citizens as one. Our differences deserve recognition. Modern history has demonstrated the horrific results of societies and polities expecting their members to be as one with the nation, the religion, or the ideology. When human otherness manifests, as it inevitably does, the “general will” may seek to excise it like a cancer. However real our fundamental oneness may be, in matters of politics and society it cannot be accessed directly without profoundly harming dissenters. 

In societies as diverse as the United States, the first step toward harmony often lies in people approaching other people as profoundly “not themselves,” irreducible to their own perceptions, beliefs, and preferences. We must look into the face of the person next to us, or even far away from us, and acknowledge someone we cannot reduce to ourselves. We must look and listen carefully to that person and honor what we learn from her or him, without blithely fitting it into our own pre-existing narrative of “the way things are.” We must respect that person in the deepest way possible: as legitimate in her own terms that don't necessarily square with our own.

Herein lies the paradox. By gazing openly into the face of the other, we feel his apartness from us. And, by remaining receptive rather than judgmental, we ascertain the common threads that run between us. Our shared essence, shining through, stirs us. Gazing on another who shares our humanness affects us more deeply than gazing at ourselves. Much as romantic relations with another person thrill and satisfy us in a way that self-satisfaction cannot, so recognizing our commonality with someone different from us evokes something more profound than when we identify with someone we assume to be just like us. Sensing our commonality with the other generates love. We thereby cross the chasm of human difference without obliterating it. Humbly, we respect the other who differs from us and, most likely, enjoy her reciprocation. To love is to be open when being closed might seem the natural thing to be.