We cannot resolve our unity problem until we resolve our binary thinking problem.
A few years ago, as my family and I were on a road trip to Mt. Rushmore, I hit the brakes and made a hard left, scaring everyone in the car half to death. A mountain lake had caught my eye and I wanted to take a closer look.
It was small-ish for a lake, but too big to call it a pond, surrounded by trees and large rock formations, a beautiful spot to stop and take a break, let the kids run around, etc. What struck me was that it was completely calm – not a ripple. Solid glass. I had never seen that before.
It didn’t last long, of course, as our middle child loves to throw rocks at water. But I’ll admit that it’s fascinating to watch what one rock does to a perfectly calm body of water; the ripples travel through its entirety. One rock and one rowdy kid can, in under a minute, affect millions of gallons.
It’s interesting to note that a body of water’s natural state is calm. Left alone, any mountain lake would look like a perfect mirror – something has to come along and disrupt it: wind, fish, kids, convection, the moon, etc.
The same goes for us, if you’ll allow the idea that humanity is one, united, interconnected thing.
Our natural state is peace.
And when someone comes along who doesn’t quite understand how rocks work, mindlessly hurling things like anxiety, selfishness, pride, division, bad religion, etc. our peace quickly gives way to troubled waters, the effects of each spreading much farther than it’s hurler.
Just as one rock disturbes the entirety of a placid mountain lake, one act of hatred goes a long, long way.
And there’s not merely one wayward child standing on our shore, but billions. We’re surrounded, especially now as we war with each other over who has the right politics. Christianity itself, the one human proposition that’s supposed to be marked by the very “peace of God,” is a tempest of Biblical proportions.
As such, American Christianity, especially the realm of Evangelicalism, is being ripped in two; one faction devoted to republican politics, the other to liberalism, each casting as many rocks as it can into an already turbulent tub, convinced that some sort of good will come from it.
As I’ve stated multiple times, I’m aware that I’ve thrown my rocks as well. I’m one of many Evangelicals (and non-Evangelicals) who are left scratching my head wondering how we can be so tirelessly devoted to republican politics. But, like so many others, I’ve been sucked into the idea that anyone who supports Donald Trump, especially at this stage in the game, is a “bad” person.
And once I decide someone is “bad,” I can do whatever I want with them – accusations, name-calling, insults, non-listening, etc. I take behaviors that I deem unworthy, and project them onto the bearer, making un-Christian assessments of their worth as a human being, much as Jesus told me not to do that, and hurl away.
The “good” people, of which I’m one, of course, get nothing but an “amen,” or a “you tell ’em” on social media. They think like I do, vote like I do, and by proxy live a life that I’ve deemed worthy. Most importantly, they don’t support political candidates who are bad for our country. If they did, I would be forced to disavow them, because only “bad” people do that.
This is commonly referred to as “binary thinking” – a way of processing our world that puts others in one of two categories, “good,” or “bad.” To a liberal Christian, anything conservative is bad, and vice versa..
For example, I can’t tell you how weary I am of my conservative friends calling all liberal folk “baby killers.” I see it every day on my facebook feed – if you vote liberal, you’re voting in support of the summary execution of the unborn. Not only is that “bad,” only a “bad” person would do that. I’ve tried to make it clear to these friends that there are just as many abortions under conservative administrations than liberal ones, maybe more so, but it doesn’t land.
Liberals have their sacred cows as well. I’m sure I’ll think of one in just a moment…
Being a bad person is not the same as doing something bad. Good people do bad things all the time. It’s fine to believe in the existence of a “bad” vote, or a “bad” politician, but when we extend the behavior to the person, we’ve engaged in a level of binary thinking that forces us to strip the bearer of her value, as we strip ourselves of the choice to view people as God does.
Once that happens, things like insults, accusations, and judgments begin to make sense, much as Jesus commanded us not to cast those stones.
But it doesn’t stop there. Binary thinking also forces us to remove the “bad” people from our presence, limiting ourselves to those who think, act, look and vote like we do.
Another word for this is segregation.
American Christianity’s political segregation conundrum isolates me from very important conversations that are fundamental to a fuller picture of truth, as well as a deeper compassion and understanding for why people don’t think like I do. To be sure, it makes me feel right (read, “good”) and the other side wrong, feeding my need for a binary world, but it also makes me angry, and vulnerable to all the other spiritual ills that come part and parcel to any form of segregation.
So, recently, I’ve begun to invite my conservative Christian friends into a conversation. The goal is little more than listening; they talk about what they believe and why, while I listen, ask questions, etc., then they do the same for me. I’ve only had one taker, and we’ve not gotten very far, but we’re both committed to hearing the other out, and, at the least, considering that there might be a bit of reason in why we land where we do.
This is my meagre attempt at politically desegregating my life so that I might a) have a fuller picture and b) communicate to my conservative friends that I love and respect them, regardless of how I feel about their politics.
It also forces me to grow up a little, taking a good, long, look at the rock in my hand so that I might reconsider what I’m about to do with it.
Most importantly, sitting with someone I don’t agree with insulates me from the sin of binary thinking, and all the crap that comes with it.
I can’t tell you what it’s like to have someone listen, especially on social media, a place that’s anything but a placid mountain lake. And while I could never hope to see the turbulence completely removed from my spiritual family, I can calm things down in my own life. Listening to people who don’t think like I do, and being listened to by them, is a sure step in that direction.
But that will require me to say goodbye to binary thinking, much as I’ve grown to love it, and do my best to replace it with its binary opposite; the weight, importance, and glory of us.
Political cartoon © Kevin Kallaugher: “There’s a lot less talking and listening today and a lot more finger-pointing.”
