Getting it right

"The moral arc of the universe bends at the elbow of justice."
-Martin Luther King, Jr.


Do you know the name James Blake? Neither did I before writing this blog. But we all should, and be grateful for his contribution to society. Because without James Blake, Alabama bus driver and strict adherent to the racial segregation codes of the day, the world would never have met Rosa Parks. Mr. Blake, you see, was the man who ordered Mrs. Parks to give up her seat on his bus so that a white man might sit, and thus gave justice a chance to shine.

December 1, 1955 was a cold day in Montgomery, and Parks was tired from a long day of ironing and stitching shirts for a department store. And in her exhaustion and dignity she uttered that very dangerous word, “No.” Blake threatened to have her arrested, but it made no difference to her. She’d paid for her ticket, she was seated in the section of the bus where blacks were told to sit, and she’d had enough.

Later, when asked why she didn’t just give up her seat, she explained, “I would have to know for once and for all what rights I had as a human being and a citizen." What does it mean to be human and to be a citizen? This Civil Rights movement hero, this American hero, asked the fundamental question that frames the virtue of justice.

Justice is about giving to others what is their due. It is the virtue that uniquely establishes the relationship between self and others. Justice points to the “inalienable rights” all human beings carry with them; rights that are hopefully supported by the laws of the land, but are ultimately deeper and more authoritative than anything that could be legislated. Because they are grounded in Natural Law.

A sense of justice is part of the very essence of human beings, and as a virtue it guides the legitimate search for fairness, equality, and best use of power. Justice is about what’s right, not just what’s accepted. Justice safeguards human dignity. In fact to violate it is to do soul-damage to one’s self. Socrates wrote that those who are unjust should be “pitied.”

It is unnatural to be unjust, thus unjust acts make both practitioners and societies sick.

Although he acted within the law, and was supported by the law, James Blake violated the virtue of justice…what was essentially due Parks as a human being; deeper than any human law, deeper than any cultural context or societal norm, deeper than a political position.

I wonder if James Blake was changed by his encounter with justice on that December day in 1955, and his invitation to become more fully human. He worked for 19 more years as a bus driver, and lived until 2002. That’s a lot of time to reflect. When asked about the incident his standard reply remained, “I wasn't trying to do anything to that Parks woman except do my job…I had my orders.”

Justice demands more than that.

Question for reflection: Where do you see inequalities, double standards, and power plays in your home, your friendships, and your workplace?

Becoming a great soul

“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls. The most massive characters are seared with scars.” -Kahlil Gibran

This past month I’ve watched with great sadness the burning and looting of London. The combustible mix of poverty, unemployment, and the perception that the government couldn’t care less has once again erupted into rioting. It is a horrible thing to watch people give in to their pain and anger and behave like crazed animals. Actually, now I’m not being fair to animals.

Almost as disturbing as the flames and violence, though, was the analysis of the commentator trying to make sense of the chaos. “Anyone would respond this way if put in similar straits.”

Anyone? How pathetic. How wrong.

But what do you do when you’ve been injured, when you suffer? How do you respond?

Anger will kick in almost immediately, often mixed with a shot of fear. And then an internal sense of justice cries out for a response. “That’s not fair.” “I didn’t deserve that.” “This can’t happen again.” And then what? This is where things typically get ugly. Payback.

But what if injury and suffering could lead to learning, healing, and wisdom?

Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to introduce you to the finest virtue you’ve never heard of: magnanimity.

Magnanimity, literally translated as “greatness of soul”, is the virtue that transforms hurt into gift. Gift? How is this possible? Because like nothing else, hurt reveals the poverty and potential of humanity. And in this hurt and subsequent anger, magnanimity helps one to choose the exceptional instead of the typical; to respond in a way that witnesses to both truth and love.

Of course one does not become magnanimous, a great soul like Aristotle, Lincoln, Gandhi, or Mother Teresa, all of a sudden and by accident. It takes a lot of practice with anger. Anger is the proverbial fork in the road; where one veers toward magnanimity or pettiness. What one does with anger makes all the difference.

Magnanimity is rare, but opportunities to practice it are not. They will find you in the everyday world: the driver who cuts you off on the freeway; the annoying neighbor who plays his music too loudly; the co-worker who backstabs you; the economic downturn that guts your retirement account; the illness that steals the health of a loved one. All are injuries, big and small; all are opportunities to become a great soul.

The magnanimous see the potential for good in suffering and injury; recognizing both what we are and what we can become. They transform hurt into health, and in the process go from good to great.

Question for reflection: How could you use hurt feelings to grow in magnanimity?

Even Flies?

"All the efforts of the human mind cannot exhaust the essence of a single fly."
-St. Thomas Aquinas

Labels can be very helpful when shopping for a car, or a computer, or a pair of shoes. They help us organize information and make efficient and generally informed decisions. I know if I buy a Volvo, I’ll get a safe car; a Mac, and I’ll have a trustworthy computer; Cole-Haan, a quality pair of loafers.

But how meaningful are labels when applied to human beings: white, black, believers, non-believers, liberals, conservatives, rich, poor? Is this enough information to really know the individual person you’re trying to cubbyhole? White people are racists. Christians are anti-intellectual. Liberals are atheists. Poor people are lazy. To the reasonable person, these too-broad generalizations, stereotypes, are quickly seen as both ridiculous and unkind.

Yet, we’ve all felt pre-judged, categorized, and rejected based on superficial information that reduces us to demographic categories. And few things hurt more. This doesn’t stop us, however, from being tempted to do the same thing to others. There really is some truth to the adage that we abuse the way we’ve been abused.

Labeling people serves a kind of protective function, which is why it’s done so regularly. We want to know who’s safe and who’s not, who’s reliable and who’s not, who’s good, and who’s not. And we want to know quickly, and we really don’t want there to be any gray area, any room for process and discovery, any mystery. Too much risk and up-front investment.

This is fundamentally fear-based and un-natural. Understandable, but unnatural…because it is not grounded in Love.

“All the efforts of the human mind cannot exhaust the essence of a single fly.” This from St. Thomas Aquinas, arguably the greatest genius of the last millennium. If anyone understood the powers and limits of the human mind, it was the Angelic Doctor. So, if we can’t figure out the essence of a fly, what do you think the chances are that we’ll be able to fully plumb the mystery of a human being made in the Image of God?

Should we, then, stop trying to think, stop trying to reason, stop trying to figure things out? Of course not. Heaven knows this world could use a little more rationality, and a little less hysteria.

But it does mean that as we live our lives, and try (more days than not) to get along with those around us, we'd do well to respect the dimension of mystery in others, and to practice reason with a good measure of humility and awe!

Question for reflection: How often do you avoid loving by labeling?

Making beautiful music

“It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters in the end.”
-Ursula K. LeGuin

If you’ve ever gone to hear an orchestra play, you know that the performance doesn’t begin until the musicians first tune their instruments. The oboe sounds the note “A”, and players make sure their instruments match the pitch. It’s the “warm-up” if you will. Many balmy summer evenings I’ve sat in the amphitheater at the Hollywood Bowl as the sun sank below the hills, and listened to the orchestra slowly but surely get in tune. This delights me in ways I can’t fully explain.

Thus, I could thoroughly relate when a friend told me about his son’s response to the same experience. The young man was attending the Bowl for the first time, and his parents got him there in time to soak in the atmosphere of the place, and watch the orchestra tuning up; kind of preparation for the “real show.” After the concert, on the way home, they excitedly asked the boy which part of the performance he liked best. “Oh,” he replied, “The beginning, just before the guy with the stick came out.”

The process of orchestral tuning is fascinating! The musicians come on stage as individuals, playing various melodies and rhythms. There are moments of discordant sound, and of back and forth between the sections when it’s hard to imagine anything like beautiful music is possible. It’s more a cacophony of noise than a symphony of sound!

Then the “guy with the stick” (aka the conductor!) enters, and with a wave of the arm the many blend into one cohesive unit. The different sections, the string and woodwind, brass and percussion complement each other, and communicate the full message that is too deep for words.

And that lasts 24 hours.

The very next evening the orchestra will begin the process all over again. These world-class musicians will each come back on stage as individual parts, play, stop and listen, play some more, and make adjustments until they finally find unity. Orchestral tuning is a good metaphor for life.

There will be times when your world is in perfect pitch; everything has come together, you feel wonderful, you think lofty thoughts, and beautiful music is made. Then there will be periods when you feel splintered, your emotions are at war, and you think that snapping your conductor’s baton in two and storming off the stage might be the best plan of all.

But most of the time you’ll be somewhere in-between; happiness and sadness, joy and sorrow, peace and anger. There will be this strange mix of thoughts and feelings that you get to somehow make sense of. This is pretty normal. Growth and healing is a 24-hour miracle…one day at a time. Don’t be surprised by the process; and maybe even get to the point where you accept it.

Because in the end, life is much more about the tuning and the adjusting then it is about the concert.

Question for reflection: What are your expectations about life?

One man’s trash…

“Ring the bells that still can ring,
Forget your perfect offering.
There is a crack in everything.
That’s how the light gets in.” -Leonard Cohen

Antique stores are hopeful places, places that believe in second chances. They accept what others have thrown away, given up on, discarded as un-useable, because they see the potential that remains. Recently, I found myself in a dusty and well-stocked one named “One Man’s Trash…”, an homage to the saying, “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”

This store had a little of everything, from automobile parts, to farming and gardening equipment, to knick-knacks and artwork found in households. I struck up a conversation with the older gentleman who owned the store, wondering what he enjoyed most about the antiques business. “I believe that everything can be used again, and nothing needs to be wasted,” he said with a contented smile. “I love that notion.”

Everything is useful, and nothing needs to be wasted.

But shame tells us something different. Shame tells us that there’s something so fundamentally wrong with us, so unforgiveable and ugly that if anyone really knew us fully, they’d be repulsed. And we’ve accepted this version of the story to one degree or another. So we feel we must hide those parts of ourselves, and pray no one ever finds out.

Maybe the shame is connected to things you’ve done; choices you regret so deeply that you’ve mistaken who you are for what you did. And no good can come from this.

Maybe the shame is about something that was done to you; and the trauma has left you feeling like you’re too broken to ever be whole again. And no good can come from this.

Unchecked and unexamined, shame feeds on isolation and secrets. Its power grows in the dark.

But did you ever stop to think that only humans feel shame? Animals don’t feel shame. Fish and plants don’t feel shame. Bugs don’t feel shame.

What if we could do something different with shame; to understand it’s presence as a confirmation of our inherent worth and our potential for transformation? Stay with me here.

Shame confirms two truths: that we are not living as we should, and that we are meant for more. Yes, we’re wounded, but we can heal. Yes, we’re imperfect, but we can learn. Yes we’re human, but we’re human…made in the Image of God.

The truth is that if we really were worthless, and so horribly flawed that we could not heal or be loved, we wouldn’t feel shame. We’d feel right at home in our garbage. Our negative self-concept would be congruent with who we truly were, and who we were capable of being. But we don’t…and shame tells us we shouldn’t.

Feelings of shame tell us that we’re stuck in a reality that isn’t fit for us. We are built for freedom, for dignity, for joy, and anything less is not going to feel natural. Everything is useful, and nothing should be wasted.

It’s the ultimate recycling plan.

Question for reflection: What have you felt ashamed of in your life, and what have you done about it?