Curiouser and Curiouser

When you've been in the church as long as I have, you've heard a lot of sermon illustrations. I don't always remember what they were intended to illustrate, but I often remember the stories themselves--they sometimes stick with me for years, enduring parables that serve to explain and articulate many different ideas and events I encounter along the way. This is one of my long-time favorites.

There was once a married couple who had been together many years. Beginning from the first night of their marriage, their nightly practice was to go to the kitchen just before bed, and share tea and toast. While the wife prepared the tea, the husband would make toast for both of them. On their 60th anniversary, their children hosted an enormous party for them. They celebrated into the night with all their friends and loved ones, and finally, after all the guests had departed, they retired to the kitchen, exhausted but happy, for their usual ritual. But as the husband prepared the toast, the wife noticed that one of the pieces was the heel of the loaf, and he'd placed that piece on her plate. In the exhaustion and emotion of the day, she burst out with frustration and anger. "I can't believe you gave me the heel of the bread again! For 60 years, you've been foisting off both heels of every loaf onto me! You are the MOST SELFISH, INCONSIDERATE MAN I HAVE EVER KNOWN!"

Her husband looked on, silent and bewildered. And when she had finally finished, he said, confusedly, "But honey--the heel is my favorite part!"

There has been a lot of talk on Facebook in the last few days that has made me think of this story. In our country right now, so much is happening that is making it obvious that we do not understand each other. The presidential inauguration, celebrated by some and protested by others, has been the subject of much of this talk; the Women's Marches participated in by millions of people around the globe have been another. In all of it, and in the brutal election season that led up to it, I've seen a disturbing commonality, which is this. When people fail to understand the reasons behind the behavior of others, they leap to conclusions and judgements about not just that behavior, but that person; and their conclusions are rarely favorable. Words like "idiot", "loser", "crybaby", "thug", "snowflake", "libtard", and many, many others, including many insults far more offensive and personal, have become commonplace in the national conversation.

The thing is, these conclusions seem to most often be drawn by simply observing the behavior of others, and then interpreting it through the lens of our own priorities, beliefs, and preferences. Unfortunately, that process will almost never bring us to a point of understanding, because what is a delectable delicacy to someone else may be to us an undesirable crust of bread that we cannot comprehend how anyone could want. And the only way to tell the difference is, when we see something that we don't understand, or that raises strong feelings of disagreement or disapproval in us, to investigate--to ask, and then listen. To reflect, both on what we hear from others and what we find in ourselves. But instead, too many of us have opted for shouting insults in anger. We are so busy talking, talking, talking, about what is wrong with everyone, that we haven't made the space, the quiet, for this kind of inquiry.

Author Shauna Niequist, in a recent interview, put it this way:  "A friend of ours who is a counselor.....one of the phrases he uses with everyone is 'be curious, be curious about that' when you notice your response to something, or your emotions rising or your anger flaring up, whatever it is, be curious about it. And so I think silence is a place where we are curious about our feelings, our desires, our longings, our broken-heartedness, and a lot of us avoid silence because of that."

Avoiding the silence is easier. Strident criticisms of others keep us from having to wrestle with the possibility that viewpoints we don't like or agree with may nevertheless be worthwhile--and that even if they aren't, the people who hold them still are. Pointing a finger allows us freedom from the necessity of facing any inconvenient truths about ourselves. But for any interpersonal relationship to be successful, the willingness to attribute positive motives to the other person is an important component, or at least the willingness to suspend judgement while we find out. It's difficult, I know. Other people are complicated. Our own way always seems like the right way, the reasonable way. But no marriage, friendship, or work relationship will be able to survive long if each person consistently fails to give their partner the benefit of the doubt, but instead always assumes ignorance, foolishness, wrongheadedness, or even malicious intent on the part of the other.

I believe this is also true on a national level. I hear a lot of talk on every side about unity, about healing, about moving forward. But maybe healing our country will require the ability to do this for each other. As a nation, maybe we need less talking, less shouting, less criticism, more silence. I'm not sure that either healing or unity can happen for us until we learn to listen to each other, and hear each other; to ask the right questions; to be curious both for each other and for ourselves. I hope, for all our sake, that we can begin soon.