Friends,
I want to continue following the idea from last week, exploring the distinction between ‘difference’ and ‘opposition.’ To review, when we treat differences as opposition, we shut of the tension of the space in between them – negotiation, compromise, openness to learning from others, etc. – and place ourselves into an either/or posture against our “opponents.” Last week I wrote about the influences in my own journey that help me see the tension between differences is a rich and promising place for discipleship. However, I don’t want to leave you with a misunderstanding. So, this week I am thinking of the cautionary tale of Buridan’s Ass: Buridan tied his ass to a stake and set two bales of hay equidistant from it on opposite sides. The ass was hungry and wanted to eat the best hay, but neither bale offered a clear reason for it to choose one over the other or to forsake one or the other. As the ass vacillated in indecision, the poor thing eventually starved to death.
I like this tale because sometimes we face two options, neither of which is altogether good or bad, so it is hard to accept one and reject the other. In fact, our Presbyterian heritage insists that until the Reign of God comes in its fullness, none of our choices will be altogether good. But I don’t mean to imply that our only option is to die of starvation. “Living in the tension between differences,” is not simply dithering and avoiding choices because none of our options are perfect.
So, how can we be faithful in those moments when oppositional thinking presents us with either/or choices, yet we know that neither is absolutely good? I’m not sure that there is a single, final answer to this question, so, we live in a constant state of discernment. At times we “hold our nose and vote,” because not voting may allow a worse option to win the day. At times we refuse to cooperate with an unjust system, even to the point of suffering for that refusal. At times we prophetically offer an alternative to the unjust system, like the early church choosing to live simply in order to sustain one another.
Here’s some good news: That Presbyterian heritage I mentioned above can be very constructive. We start with the belief that, until the Reign of God has come in its fullness, we will not have perfect choices. That means no political party, nation-state, family, individual, institution, or even religion is untainted by some kind of shortcoming or sinfulness. Yet, within that awareness, early American Presbyterians insisted on democracy as the best form of government. They did not embrace democracy because they thought a 51% opinion is always right. The majority is also affected by sin. They supported democracy because it was less exploitable than aristocracy, oligarchy, monarchy, theocracy, and other systems that concentrated too much power into too few hands of sinful people. I still think that is a compelling reason for faithful Christians to support democracy, as well as balancing the three branches of government, honoring subsidiarity, and other practices that disperse power. Each of those ideas is a way of attaining what Reinhold Niebuhr called “proximate goods” in a fallen world.
Each week we offer prayers of confession during worship, not because we are all creepy people deep inside, but because even when we strive to do what is right we often participate in sinfulness. That practice is prophetic in itself, demonstrating to the world that we can be honest, realistic, and genuine about our failings, and still come before God with bold humility. And then we “Hear the Good News” because our sinfulness may be a true word about our lives, but God’s grace is always the final word.
Mark of St. Mark