Never Break Relationship

Scott Schaeffer-Duffy knows a thing or two about talking to people about difficult topics. 

As co-founder of the of the Sts. Francis and Thérèse Catholic Worker in Worchester, MA, he publically promotes the consistent ethic of life--a moral framework which ties all issues of life and killing together.  As a result, he takes a stand against abortion, war, the death penalty, poverty and violence of all kinds. 

It is a very Christian idea with deep roots all the way back to Jesus and the Ancient Israelite prophets.  Nevertheless, it is an idea which faces no shortage of resistance.  The odds are high that something he says on some issue is going to be a hot button issue for someone.  It puts him on both sides of the culture wars but at home on neither side.  Emotions can get high, and many red faced people have shouted all manner of insults at him. 

He gave some advice at a Catholic Worker gathering many years ago that has left a profound impression on me:  Never break relationship; stay in dialogue.

This includes--perhaps especially so--the people who are rigidly entrenched and refusing to dialogue in a respectful manner.

The longer I continue in ministry, the more I see the wisdom in that.

I asked in an earlier post if it is okay to be intolerant of intolerance.  The first question to ask is:  Am I getting an accurate read on the other person?  If I sit back and say those people are just intolerant, how do I know whether or not that is actually true?   It could just be my perception of them or what I have been told (or manipulated) to believe about them.  I am never going to understand them well from a distance.  Never break relationship; stay in dialogue.

What is the best way to help facilitate a change?  Assuming I do believe they are mistaken, shunning them is not likely to have much of an impact.  After all, shunning is the first step on the path to dehumanizing and objectifying someone, opening the door to justify later abuse.  I need to see their humanity as God's image and never lose sight of that in my dealings with them--for my sake as well as theirs.  I hope they see my humanity as God's image, too.  Once that happens, we will be in a much better place to truly listen to each other and consider what each other is saying.  Never break relationship; stay in dialogue.
 
Language is important.  Let's not whitewash:  Intolerant of intolerance is exactly that--intolerance.  I may not like intolerance, but saying I am intolerant of it is a red flag on my own spiritual development.  Reacting to their intolerance with an equal and opposite display of intolerance on my part puts them in the driver's set--they end up setting the tone for my behavior.  Never break relationship, stay in dialogue.

I keep coming back to the importance of combining contemplation with action, a theme we have explored a lot in this blog lately.  Mystics have been saying this for centuries, including Richard Rohr and Thomas Merton.  Scott Schaeffer-Duffy's words resonate here greatly. 

It may be a very fine thing to take the action of protesting the behavior of some folks that I find to be intolerant.  My conscience and faith formed in the Gospel may drive me to that action.  However, I also have a duty to combine that with contemplation. In other words I have to be constantly meditating, praying, being in dialogue with others and reading about the subject to make abundantly sure I am not simply wrong or driven by my own agenda.  Knowing how well the ego can hide behind layers of pride, jealousy, fear, real wounds and false humility, I have to be on an ever-watchful vigil.  The exercise of self-reflection never ends.

I have to bring a prayerful, loving, humble stance to my social action because there is no other way to ensure I am not just replacing one prejudice or intolerance with another.  Even that is not foolproof, but it is the best way we have to check and balance our own runaway ego--it is a way to stay rooted in our own faith and values and not just mindlessly react.  Then our actions inform and influence our contemplation in an endless interplay.

Without contemplation, we become what we hate.

Case in point:  A man grows up in an excessively controlling family.  Boundaries are not respected and privacy is not a part of family culture, despite his discomfort and perhaps his protests.  He crawls into an emotional shell only to be regularly prodded, guilted and manipulated out of that.  After coming out of that environment, he declares--consciously or subconsciously--never to let anyone else control him ever again.  His instincts are on high alert to resist any hint at control.  He becomes so engrossed with resisting external control, however, that it becomes very difficult to be in relationship with him.  To be a guest in his house, you have to follow his all-too-rigid rules and endless protocol.  Walking on eggshells is an ever-present reality around him.

While I would never deny him his right to set his own boundaries and preferences for his home, he fails to see that he has actually become like his family of origin.  Like his parents who were not responsive to him as a child, his baggage is so all-engrossing that he cannot be responsive to the needs of his guests and friends--they have to bend to his wishes (even the point of compromising themselves), but he has little flexibility to do likewise.  There is a fine line between his right to protect his boundaries and his tendency to achieve that by imposing increasingly restrictive rules on the people around him.  People are in a compromising position around him, just like he was in a compromising position growing up.

The mechanism he used for breaking away from his family's control is . . . control.  It is the stuff of Greek tragedy, but it makes sense--control is what he knows.  In this way, we come to see our enemies like unto ourselves.  They trigger us because they are more like us than we ever care to imagine.  The seeds for compassion are sown.

This man is not an isolated example--he represents all of us.  We become what we hate, says my uncle.   It is not a question of "if" this may happen but "when" and "how."  Hindus call it karma.  Psychologists call it projection.  Ancient Greeks referred to it as tragedy.  Newtonian physicists talk of actions having equal and opposite reactions.  Jesus told us to love our enemies and hinted that we may find ourselves in them somehow. 

Action without contemplation puts us on due course to become just like our enemies, even when it may seem like we are working to be the complete opposite. 

All too often in history, a government is overthrown for its miscarriage of justice only to be replaced with another regime as evil as the previous one, despite the seemingly good intentions of those struggling for change.  The exceptions are those who are intentional about reconciliation and mature contemplation.  Otherwise, you hurt those who have hurt you, hate those who have hated you and limit those who have limited you.  The subsequent generation would not see justice but only oppression and then their resistance starts.

The Gospel offers an alternative:  Love your enemies. Bless those who persecute you. Do good to those who hate you. Pray for those who mistreat you. 

In other words:  Stop the madness from continuing in a never-ending chain reaction of violence.

No matter how justifiable it may seem, I have got to always stay in relationship and dialogue with those with whom I disagree.  Through faith, I maintain my center despite the storms going on around me.  My dialogue with them--as well as my internal self-reflection--helps ensure that I am not creating a rigid fundamentalism of my own but rather a stance of being rooted in faith while also responsive to the world around me.

There is a depressingly endless array of injustices in this world.  We cannot sit paralyzed, unwilling to take action out of our own self-doubt or sense of humility.  All we can do is take action with a firm commitment to continual self-evaluation and education in prayer, discussion, study and personal growth--and always keep the doors of possibility open with those with whom we disagree so that their methods of exclusion do not become our methods of exclusion.  Never break relationship; stay in dialogue.

Family Matters

Holiday political arguments can be the stuff of legend. 

My family is nothing unusual in this regard.

The way it would often end, however, has left an impression on me years later even though many of these folks have since passed on and the family has grown and drifted as the generations have accumulated.

On one side of my family, there are people with a wide range of political views and an even wider range of opinions about how vocal we ought to be about them.  There are right-wingers and peace activists, middle-of-the-roaders and apolitical folks.  Some like to debate while others avoid it at all costs.  

Our Christmas gatherings have seen their share of knock-down-drag-out debates and no-holds-barred arguments. 

It could begin with outright intentional baiting or perhaps an innocent-sounding comment that flares up.  It continues as participants engage each other with a mix of both curiosity and repulsion--do you really think or believe this way?  It peaks with blame and hostility.

 

Despite all that, when we have gathered our coats, presents and plates of cookies and are headed for the door, something on the order of a Christmas miracle happens.

 

We usually come back to that place where we say out loud that we are still glad we get together.  Even if we see each other only once or twice a year, it does matter--we are still family and gathering is important.  Some of us would rarely opt to spend time together otherwise, yet there is something about family that speaks to a bond.  We witness to that bond by showing up.  Perhaps all we can do is agree to disagree.

(It might have been even better to start the arguments with these affirmations, but I digress.)

Christianity teaches that all humans are one family as children of the one God.  We certainly share the same world and its resources.  Like my relatives, we ought to do something to keep the dialogue open.  It matters that we are in relationship. 

 

Agreeing to disagree is much more powerful than our society usually regards it.  It is not a blow off--there is respect; there is acknowledgement; there is a proposed way of sitting with those differences.  It creates space to pause and re-center ourselves.  It may not be perfect, but it is a step.

We wish each other "Merry Christmas," "Safe travels" and perhaps most importantly, "See you next year."

 

Let Go, Let God

God uses failure to bring us to brokenness,

to force us back to a posture of dependence.

--Seth Barnes

 

***

Have you ever had an experience with people so difficult that it actually becomes easy?

You meet each other; you start talking.  You get to a point where you realize you cannot connect to them through any mechanism you may normally use.  You cannot find any natural points of congruency.  Perhaps you are driven to the brink of frustration.  Nothing you do works to find common ground or reconcile differences.  You realize: I am not going to change them, and they are not going to change me.

You simply run out of options and then something amazing happens:

You throw your proverbial hands up in the air and simply let go.

You let go of all your needs--your expectations, your demands, your codependent dynamics, your impulse to steer the relationship to go in a certain direction.  

You resign yourself to let it be whatever it is going to be.  Perhaps in a half-comical way, you simply accept each other as you are, because you just know you are so completely and totally different.

In other words, you get out of God's way.

Wise people say the ego needs to fail in exactly this way.  It is like hitting rock bottom and knowing in your bones that you are at the end of your supply chain.  It is the desperate plea of the Psalmist who realizes that s/he is ultimately powerless and dependent on God alone.  That stance of complete and total reliance on God--rather than our own power--is the place of spiritual communion with God. 

You can say that we live the Christian life on our knees.

Two egos can lock horns and fight almost endlessly.  When someone is depleted, they may pause--but after a rest, they invariably resume locking horns.  This can go on for years, and each party will convince itself of the value of his/her position and the necessity of standing ground in this fashion.  After all, wars are rarely won when one side becomes convinced of the other's rightness. Wars are more about exterminating and exhausting the other but never about change-of-heart.

Grace appears--through epiphany or sheer exhaustion--when this method absolutely and totally fails in a way that is abundantly clear.

It can be excruciating.  You are pushed to your limits.  So much of what you have invested in has failed miserably.

It can also be tremendously freeing.  Your pride was never a part of your true self anyway.

What seems at first like a contradiction is that this very attitude of completely letting go actually forms the foundation for the best kind of relationship--both with yourself and with the other.  It seems like a paradox, but it actually makes good sense.  It is a profound platform for love and affection to flow--the complete absurdity of the relationship has allowed you to shirk all your baggage about relationships, which then allows something miraculous to happen:  You discover a healthy place of self-differentiation--I do not need you to change in order for me to be okay with myself.

You do not experience any affirmation from them in any way that you normally rely on.  As a result, you stand on your own feet in your own shoes simply because there is no crutch available to you.  An amazing paradox:  Living on your knees allows you to stand your ground.

An authentic relationship becomes possible because you let go of your demands on the other person as well as any fantasy about who you or they might be.  You can instead receive the authentic truth of who they are.  This also means accepting the authentic truth of who you are, rather than seeing yourself through the blurred lens of your baggage.  You no longer feel compelled to avoid whatever it is inside of you that is uncomfortable--wounds that are unhealed.

This is one of the many grace-filled ways that the "enemy"--or the stranger, the lost, the misunderstood, the forgotten, the marginalized, the relationship sparring partner--becomes a key to finding ourselves.  This includes anyone in an oppositional position.  No one is excluded in God's Kingdom, because to exclude anyone is to put a barrier to your own self and the work you need to do on your spiritual walk.

***

Then—and only then—once a relationship is established where you truly respect the person as they are right now, of course, there is a place for giving each other constructive feedback.  There is a time to be a prophetic witness.  But that feedback comes out of genuine respect.  It does not come from yelling at each other based on what we think we know about each other but rather from the genuine care and concern that comes from the lived experience of a relationship.  It does not come from an agenda rooted in fears or being manipulated by our own triggers, nor does it come from painting people into categories with broad brush strokes.

It is a wonderful exercise then to apply this to all relationships--do not put any demands or pressure on each other.  Accept each other becomes your primary stance to anyone.  Sometimes it is easiest to do this with the people who are furthest removed.  Then begins the journey back home with this new revelation--bringing this same mode of healthy self-differentiation, lack of attachment to an agenda, acceptance of each other and calming of our triggers that we have experienced with strangers--back home to coworkers, neighbors, friends and ultimately our family and spouse.  This path back home, in this light, gets harder and harder the closer to "home" you get--because the closer relationships--and their inherent baggage--are much deeper.

***

This post applies to all relationships, but it might be interesting to think of how it relates to the quest for Christian unity.  Many say that quest for Christian unity has stalled.  We have reached the limits in many cases of what academics can resolve and what hierarchical structures can accommodate.  We know that arguments and wars do not work, and few ecumenists want to return to that method of solving theological differences.  Academic debates today are far kinder and more polite than ever.  In fact, the average church goer might be surprised to find out how well representatives from different denominations get along in this process. 

The real challenge for today, I believe, is learning to be okay and accept each other in our differences.  People are afraid to give up their debates and arguments about each other. We stick our necks out, but only so much.  Whether we are academics, clergy or any other member of a church denominations, what would it means for us to ask ourselves:  Before entering a debate with anyone, how can we begin that dialogue on our knees?  Have we gone through the personal conversion necessary before attempting to broker anyone else's conversion?  Accepting each other--and all that it implies--is not the end of the journey but rather a new beginning. 

 

Why I Need the Religious Right

I would like to think I am difficult to categorize.

I hold some conservative views that would surprise my liberal friends. I have other views that would make not just conservatives but even liberals uneasy. I am probably more traditional than conservative and more radical than liberal. I am strongly Catholic but in a way that forever needs explanation--everyday Catholicism is filled with beauty, but the blasé cultural stereotype falls so far short.

 

Since the internet is not in any dire need of more self-indulgence, why am I taking the time to write all this on a blog about Christian unity?

The reason is this: There are a lot of words and phrases you could use to describe me. Each of those words needs context and qualification before they feel right, but there are many hats that fit and many others I can fit into by degree. However, out of all the categories that I can be associated with, out of all the labels that folks might think apply to me, at least in part, the designation “religious right” is almost certainly not one of them.

That is exactly why I need them.

***

The Southern Baptist Convention.

Some would say this is Ground Zero of the Religious Right. A key partisan figure in our society. A hotbed of intolerance. Some would say they manifest everything that is wrong in America. And they have horns and smoke comes out of their noses, too.

Others would call them the daring voices standing up for what is good and traditional. They manifest the soul of small town America. They dig their heels in and resist with all their might the culture's downward slide. Some might say they represent everything that is right in America.

Another way of saying this is: Welcome to the Culture Wars.

***

I would like to think I can find common ground with just about anybody. I enjoy the company of folks all over the religious and political spectrum. I do not just tolerate but enjoy diversity. I love a vigorous debate of opposing, well-formed, sincere views. I soak up just about all forms of diversity, with one notable exception: The intolerance I find within religious or political fundamentalism.

I wonder about the limits of tolerance--is it okay to be intolerant of intolerance?

Or is that just another form of intolerance itself?

***

Throughout my life I have found myself regularly associating with the religious right.

I keep asking—Why me? Why this? Out of all the groups to be in dialogue with, why have I found myself so consistently face-to-face with them? Is this the Holy Spirit jerking my chain or karma playing games with me?

I would absolutely enjoy sharing company with Buddhist monks or Hindu priests. I have a lot in common with many mainline Protestants. But almost as if it's right on the schedule of some cosmic clockwork, I find myself face-to-face with the religious right--whether it be in friendships, work or joint projects.

Don't get me wrong--I have a lot of good things to say about the Southern Baptists in general and the religious right as a whole. Some have become my friends. I have worked together with them in many circumstances. It is not that they are unfamiliar, it is just that--as a whole--they are difficult. For me.

It may be strange to hear that a person who works full-time in reconciliation between Catholic and Evangelical Christians is someone who is not comfortable with a significant part of that role.

But that is exactly the reason--I believe that is why they are in my life: I need the religious right because they are difficult for me.

***

The work of ecumenical and interfaith dialogue has many facets. It is academic; it is social. It takes places at conferences and in meeting rooms with long tables. It happens in the trenches of community service and neighborhood Bible studies. Representatives meet each other everywhere from the pages of peer-reviewed journals to long discussions over a favorite beverage. They share thoughts, they confront differences and they bring messages back to their respective communities.

However, the work does not truly begin--not really--until the moment you find yourself uncomfortable.

***

I have been an activist for much of my life. The bulk of my work has been trying to persuade people—trying to stir up action, trying to convince people, trying to organize people for the sake of the Gospel.  

Trying, trying, trying . . . to do what, exactly? To change hearts and minds, I would say--to help us imagine the Kingdom and work towards that Kingdom on earth, through God's grace.

I fancy myself like that man in Plato's cave who got a glimpse of something important who is desperately trying to turn the heads of everyone else to see. How to form conscience, open eyes, organize for positive change, preach the Kingdom of God--these are the matters I have brooded over for years.

In doing ecumenical and interfaith work, I have to suspend a lot of that. Or at least, change my approach dramatically. In this work--and perhaps in all work--change comes about in a different way.

It is easy to point to a group of people and start criticizing, saying, this is their fault here and this is their fault there. Whether this method actually works or not is another story, but it is easy to do.

I never wanted to be a judgmental activist. I always found that attitude and those methods counter-productive and disrespectful. In fact, I once led advocacy efforts half-jokingly subtitled "peace activism for the rest of us." It was an attempt to be a voice for social justice causes without the self-righteous egoic posturing common in activism which only ends up marginalizing both itself and the causes it champions.

Still, the urge to get others to be different has always somehow been an underlying, motivating impulse.

 

The prophetic voice has always come easily for me.  What has been harder to come by is the wisdom voice. I describe this as accepting others for who they are--beginning every relationship with this deep respect, interest and fascination for who they are--exactly as they are--at this moment. Coming without an agenda. "Patience" is the word that keeps coming to mind here. Letting go. Calming that all-to-quick autonomic impulse to rush into action, defend my views and resist what I fervently believe needs to be clarified or corrected.

There is still a need to advocate for causes--we are not to be paralyzed into inaction. However, a wisdom figure would do this through friendship and invitation rather than through force of any kind, including manipulation, pressure or even sometimes firm argumentation. The first step is respect: Tell me who you are and I will tell you who I am, and before we do anything else let's just sit with that for a while.

(This section owes a debt to Richard Rohr and Walter Brueggeman. See this piece. Brueggemann suggests that the three sections of Hebrew Scriptures--Torah, Prophets and Wisdom--roughly correspond with the three main stages of human development).
 

***

The paradox is that if change is going to come at all, it will come most readily when you quit trying to change things and simply respect everything as it is right now. That moment of sincere acceptance--and it has to be sincere--creates the space for movement.

***

It is easy to write off the Southern Baptists and say these are narrow minded people who are brimming with intolerance. There is always someone they are opposed to. Anti-gay is the current one. Always anti-someone.  Anti-Catholic is an old favorite and reliable go-to. There are still some rather steamy anti-Catholic blogs you can find, and some folks are more than happy to disseminate them through the SBC's twitter hashtags.

Contemplatives tell us the ego defines itself by being opposed to other things, by grouping: I am this so therefore I am not that. In that scenario, however, the end result is that you always need an enemy. You cannot have an identity until there is someone to compare yourself with who is not like you. When the ego needs a fix to affirm itself, it predictably bashes someone. Conflict is inevitable so long as we are living out of the ego stage.

 

They say this is what Jesus meant when he urged people to look beyond the transient nature of this world to discover that which is eternal. The ego is an overall word for this false self of pride, jealousy, competition and other qualities Christians have long identified as sinful--expressions of our "fallen" nature.

***

The religious right is the group I do not know what to do with.

I often try to ignore them. I pretend they just do not exist. 

At first, this sounds reasonable, and it works for a while--we disagree, so I will live my life as I see fit, and they will do the same and we will muddle through life the best we can. We will simply coexist. It is not bad, and heck, at least we are not killing each other.

Our paths inevitably intersect, however. We do share the same planet, after all.

I think to myself that they are the source of all our problems. I say, subconsciously or otherwise: It would be better if their viewpoint simply did not exist.

I might approach my ecumenical work with the silent agenda that the only way for us to move forward is to convert them all to my way of looking at things. At least get them into the ballpark.

This is not to say that there is not a place for legitimate growth. Perhaps we would all be better off if some things were to change. However, I am talking here about a problem which is my attitude and agenda that I bring to the conversation before it even happens. This is the interior work I need to do. I need the religious right to remind me of this.

***
 

Jesus told us to share the Good News. He did not tell us to homogenize the world into our own image. However, this is what I see the religious right doing which I oppose so strongly. In my opposition, my approach has to be something different.

Even naming my concern in the above paragraph could be my ego's sneaky way of getting a jab in. And even stating that covers it up even more by feigning humility while letting the original comment still stand. It's good cop bad cop, ego style. I get to make my jab and then get the redemption that comes via apologizing for the jab. The ego can hide so well behind many layers.

Better people than me have pointed out that this impulse to convert is actually a sinister form of violence--I want to erase all the things about you that are distinctive, everything that I do not like about you which makes me uncomfortable--which ultimately leads me to say: I just want to erase you.

In doing this, my ego derives its identity in its opposition to another group, and the only solution is obliteration of the other--a goal that may never be possible since I need them for my own identity.

If I go through my life telling myself I am tolerant, except for groups that are hard lined fundamentalists, then am I not doing something very similar? How do I witness the one human family if I choose to ignore or metaphorically eradicate people who are difficult for me?

My intolerance to what I perceive as their intolerance is not good enough.

Jesus pointed out that even sinners love their own friends. How we relate to those we consider "enemy" is pivotal to the Christian witness. The paradox is that those we consider our "enemy" are actually much closer to us that we ever care to imagine. The very fact that they trigger us so strongly demonstrates how personal and visceral their resonance with us actually is.

The surprise that comes is that in order to accept others as they are, I must also accept myself as I am--the two go hand in hand. My intolerance of them might be a signpost of an intolerance I have of myself.

Even these people? Even the Southern Baptists? Are they not the ones who are doing all sorts of things I do not like or support?

Yes, even them. Especially them--especially the group you do not want to be in relationship with, that is who you have to reach out to.

***

It is probably no surprise that contemplative religious monks who are sometimes the ones most drawn to ecumenical and interfaith work. It forces you into an encounter with yourself. It provides the raw material for meditation. Encountering someone different, especially someone who makes you uncomfortable, puts you face-to-face with your own jagged edges.

Contemplatives are invested in finding and overcoming unhealthy attachments, to use a Buddhist word. Coming face-to-face with someone who is different gives you an opportunity to work on yourself. Contemplatives take a proactive stance toward their own fears and often go right toward them.

I have read some Southern Baptist blogs. A number of folks are very sympathetic to Catholics and are very willing to work on common areas. There is also a strong, more old school Baptist mindset of people who are very anti-Catholic and not shy about expressing it. It can be hard to read some of that. My first impulse is to want to write back and engage in a debate. That can be a worthwhile thing to do. But for the sake of my own growth, I sometimes hold back and first try to understand.  Instead of that knee jerk defensive response, I cultivate patience and simply accept--accept the situation, accept what is, accept myself in my triggered state and accept the other people.

The reply may still come--but it may come from a gentler, more humbler plateau, a more informed place, a more self-reflective place, rather than a knee-jerk reaction, and is that not just a healthier way to be in relationship with anybody, including a relationship with myself? It's Newtonian--actions cause reactions, angers leads to anger, and violence continues in an unbroken chain throughout the eons--that is, until grace comes in. Letting my triggers constantly manipulate me is a less happy, less empowered place to be. Always reacting and responding from the place of my own triggers makes me feel like I am dangling on an existential fishing line--but I am the only one holding the rod and reel and I can claim the power to change my reaction.

The presence of these knee-jerk triggers then begins to look different. Instead of something to fight back and immediately oppose, they are a beacon on the road map of my own personal growth and self-awareness. Their presence shows me where my unfinished internal work is.

***

The funny thing you find out when you get in relationship with someone is that they are not as one-dimensional as you may have thought--or even wanted. It would be so much easier to put them all in a box with a single label. However, there are always more than small nuances of difference. Despite the best attempts by SBC President Ronnie Floyd to set the tone of this year's Southern Baptist Convention with themes of "clear agreement, visible union and extraordinary prayer," no group is quite that monolithic. There is a spectrum of ideas and a spectrum of people.

It might have been easy for me to write off a group of people as just one thing, only to find out that there are many tones and timbres present. Everyone has a story to tell. It is so tempting to reduce them to just the religious right or just narrow or just intolerant, but I run a huge risk of being guilty of that same thing by rushing to these conclusions.

I need to discover their humanity in all its depth and nuance--and that requires discovering my own and then responding to them from that place.

Getting together sometimes means resolving differences. First and foremost, it means working on our own selves to be okay with difference--why am I uncomfortable around you? That is my problem and I should not make it your problem.

It is when you are intolerant of intolerance you may be called and driven to be a prophetic voice and say this is not right, something has to change. There is no question about that. You may have to do that as a person of conscience. But you have got to be in relationship with that person and that group. You have got to be self-reflective. And in doing that, the person who changes--first and foremost--is you.

The civility we need will not come from watching our tongues.
It will come from valuing our differences.
-- Parker J. Palmer