Arrogance. That's the obvious objection. Overconfidence.
First, I believe the term "overconfidence" to be nonsense. You can no more be overconfident than you can be over-healthy, or over-accurate in your arithmetic. It is only possible to be "overconfident" in the sense of being mistaken, to underestimate the power of the opposition, as the South did in the Civil War.
As far as arrogance, it is not overconfidence. It is not confidence. It is insecurity trying to pass itself off as confidence. It is a lie.
Have you met truly self-assured people? I have. The mark of confidence is that the one who possesses it doesn't think about him/herself too much. In fact the confident person thinks of self as seldom as possible. When you meet a confident person, that person will want to talk about you. You will enjoy that person's company because that person enjoys yours. You will enjoy that person's company because you sense that person isn't out to get something from you. That person puts you at ease because that person doesn't need you. You will not feel put upon. You will not feel tired out from the conversation. You will feel energized. You will be tempted to glom on to the confident one, as one possessed of some kind of magic you want. You will probably not recognize the magic as confidence. But you will want it.
Ask yourself why would a self-possessed, self-assured, self-confident person drink to excess? Why do drugs? Why frequent pornography? Or prostitution? Or gambling? Why hurt people in any fashion? What would the self-confident need with such crutches?
No the antidote to arrogance is not punishment and berating. The antidote is encouragement, as early as possible. Children need correction. Once in a while, they need to be punished. But, as John Wesley admonished his preachers, "Preach ten words of grace for every word of judgment."
Friday, August 1, 2008
Toward an Ontological Ethic
Forgive me, I've always loved big words. "Ontological" means "of or referring to being". I simply mean your ethic, how you behave, flows from who you are. In the 60's, when we loved beautiful, schmaltzy poster sayings, we used to say, "What you do speaks so loudly I can't hear a word you say."(Ralph Waldo Emerson?) It's schmaltz at its smelliest, but it's also very true.
During my summer vacation, I've become borderline addicted to some TV shows they rerun during the day. My wife and I have watched several dozen episodes of "Homicide: Life on the Streets", "Frasier" (I was already partial to that one), and "Crossing Jordan". And I will miss them when school starts back next week. An episode of "Jordan" we watched yesterday really wounded me. It was about child prostitution. When our heroes rescued the Hispanic teenager who had been kidnapped and forced into this lifestyle, the young police detective wanted to interview her to try to capture the people who had enslaved her. He called her name and said, "Will you do something for me?"
She looked as if she were going to start crying, she huddled into herself, and she said, miserably, "Do I have to take off my clothes?"
I thought I was going to cry.
It hurt me because I know such things happen. People entice young women, girls, from underprivileged countries with promises of honorable work and a better life in the United States. The next thing you know, the girls are slaves, serving the lusts of American men. Some times the death penalty seems like a better idea than others.
Watching that yesterday has prompted me to sit down to this blog again, because I think I have a message that needs to get out. I am convinced that people don't do these things because of how good they think they are. I am convinced that people live up to, or down to, their self-images.
I was the best teenage boy you ever met. I was the poindexter all the mothers wanted their daughters to date. (Funny. None of them seemed to want to date me. They were happy to cry on my shoulders about the boys they did want to date! Ah, well...!) I didn't drink, I didn't smoke, I didn't do drugs, I didn't try to get the pants off the good-looking girls I knew. Don't get me wrong. I wasn't immune to temptation. I was curious. I seriously wanted sex. But I saw myself as a good boy. And I knew there are some things good boys don't do. It was a terribly difficult time.
I don't think I've progressed from that. I think I've regressed. I've learned self-indulgence. And guess what? Self-indulgence is hard too. It's hard to have lost so much of the self-respect I had 30 years ago.
I learned in seminary to be much easier on myself, and on others. That is good, to a point. Jesus, after all, did not condemn the woman taken in adultery. But what were his final words to her? "Go and sin no more" (John 8:11). He called it sin. She knew it was sin. He did not punish her for it. But he did not minimize it either!
When did self-indulgence become a virtue? How is self-indulgence that far removed from incontinence? An adult who cannot control most bodily functions is a person to be pitied. So why should we admire a man who cannot control his libido? Why don't we condemn as infantile people who cannot say no to themselves? We call children in that state "spoiled brats".
A few years ago I drove past a billboard advertising a club for "adult entertainment". Still tempted by such things, yet it occurred to me that a true adult wouldn't need such entertainment. The same sign called spoke of a "gentlemen's club". Gentlemen? How?
No, I am persuaded that we will behave up to our self-image. I do not believe that we will behave out of fear of punishment, entirely. We learn how to get away with things as little children. I am persuaded that we will live up, or down, to our self-image. There are things good boys don't do, and things good boys do. If we learn to see ourselves as good, perhaps we will behave better.
During my summer vacation, I've become borderline addicted to some TV shows they rerun during the day. My wife and I have watched several dozen episodes of "Homicide: Life on the Streets", "Frasier" (I was already partial to that one), and "Crossing Jordan". And I will miss them when school starts back next week. An episode of "Jordan" we watched yesterday really wounded me. It was about child prostitution. When our heroes rescued the Hispanic teenager who had been kidnapped and forced into this lifestyle, the young police detective wanted to interview her to try to capture the people who had enslaved her. He called her name and said, "Will you do something for me?"
She looked as if she were going to start crying, she huddled into herself, and she said, miserably, "Do I have to take off my clothes?"
I thought I was going to cry.
It hurt me because I know such things happen. People entice young women, girls, from underprivileged countries with promises of honorable work and a better life in the United States. The next thing you know, the girls are slaves, serving the lusts of American men. Some times the death penalty seems like a better idea than others.
Watching that yesterday has prompted me to sit down to this blog again, because I think I have a message that needs to get out. I am convinced that people don't do these things because of how good they think they are. I am convinced that people live up to, or down to, their self-images.
I was the best teenage boy you ever met. I was the poindexter all the mothers wanted their daughters to date. (Funny. None of them seemed to want to date me. They were happy to cry on my shoulders about the boys they did want to date! Ah, well...!) I didn't drink, I didn't smoke, I didn't do drugs, I didn't try to get the pants off the good-looking girls I knew. Don't get me wrong. I wasn't immune to temptation. I was curious. I seriously wanted sex. But I saw myself as a good boy. And I knew there are some things good boys don't do. It was a terribly difficult time.
I don't think I've progressed from that. I think I've regressed. I've learned self-indulgence. And guess what? Self-indulgence is hard too. It's hard to have lost so much of the self-respect I had 30 years ago.
I learned in seminary to be much easier on myself, and on others. That is good, to a point. Jesus, after all, did not condemn the woman taken in adultery. But what were his final words to her? "Go and sin no more" (John 8:11). He called it sin. She knew it was sin. He did not punish her for it. But he did not minimize it either!
When did self-indulgence become a virtue? How is self-indulgence that far removed from incontinence? An adult who cannot control most bodily functions is a person to be pitied. So why should we admire a man who cannot control his libido? Why don't we condemn as infantile people who cannot say no to themselves? We call children in that state "spoiled brats".
A few years ago I drove past a billboard advertising a club for "adult entertainment". Still tempted by such things, yet it occurred to me that a true adult wouldn't need such entertainment. The same sign called spoke of a "gentlemen's club". Gentlemen? How?
No, I am persuaded that we will behave up to our self-image. I do not believe that we will behave out of fear of punishment, entirely. We learn how to get away with things as little children. I am persuaded that we will live up, or down, to our self-image. There are things good boys don't do, and things good boys do. If we learn to see ourselves as good, perhaps we will behave better.
What's In It for Me?
When you try to force a square peg into a round hole, which finds it more comfortable?
When you try to force a square peg into a round hole, which benefits more?
Doesn't it harm both?
Do you believe that God created you? Do you believe God is great and good and loving and powerful? Then isn't it just possible that God did a good job in your creation, and that God has a pretty powerful and good will for you?
How does it serve God, or you, or anyone else, for you to be miserable? Isn't it just possible that there is a hole the perfectly fits the peg your are, and that you are resisting God's will, and hurting yourself and others by persisting in a life that makes you miserable?
The first week I was pastoring I felt guilty because I was enjoying myself so much! All my training had me convinced, emotionally at least, that God's will couldn't possibly be fun, that if I was enjoying myself I must be out of the will of God!
I'm still waiting for somebody to show me where that is in the Bible.
What if God, in creating you, revealed his will for you in the deepest desires of your heart? What if you can recognize God's will by what gives you the greatest joy?
When I studied ethics in college, I learned that hedonism makes a pretty good ethic, if it's applied properly. Follow me on this: hedonism is the pursuit of pleasure. But what is the greater pleasure, a long happy life, or an orgy of delight ending in premature death? Hedonism, properly applied, teaches that moderation in all things actually brings the greatest pleasure; that being a good neighbor will bring greater pleasure, being a good citizen, being a good spouse, being a good parent, even if, in the short run, they might bring some temporary discomfort.
Do you like to exercise? I don't. I love to eat what I want, when I want. I love to stay up late reading or watching my favorite movies, and sleeping without an alarm clock, getting up when I wake up. But I don't like being overweight. I don't like how I look or how I feel when I'm 30 pounds above where I should be. I don't like how I feel when I've sat around all day and accomplished nothing because I slept until nearly noon.
So hedonism teaches me that I'll be happier if I endure the discomfort, the displeasure, of exercise now, of an intelligent diet now, of a disciplined sleep schedule now, so that I may live a longer, healthier, happier, more fulfilled life.
One more illustration: The last five years I pastored, what kept me sane was singing with a fine organization, The Tara Choral Guild. For two hours every Tuesday night, I would sit in rehearsal working on very difficult music, shooting for perfection. I was frequently nervous, not entirely sure I was up to the challenge!
One spring we did Mozart's Requiem. I swear, I was still making mistakes in the performance. I never did get that thing to perfection. But my wife says it was the finest performace we gave in the years I was in the Guild. And I'm very proud of that performance, prouder of many easier things I probably performed better.
Spending that time weekly with fine musicians struggling for excellence was some of the greatest therapy I ever knew. The pursuit of excellence is not exhausting, it's exhilirating!
We sang in one of the finest auditoriums in the world, Spivey Hall on the campus of Clayton State College in Morrow, Georgia. But we had some problems with the staff at Spivey at that concert, and we decided not to sing there again. We decided we'd find some accomodating church who would let us use their auditorium. After working so hard on the Mozart, the guild decided not to do anything new the next season; they chose instead to pull out some things we already knew, and to take it easy for our next concert.
That's when I quit the Tara Choral Guild. As long as we were striving for excellence, I found great joy and healing in singing with them. But then they chose mediocre church music over excellence, well, I had better things to do with my Tuesday evenings. In the last years of my burnout with church work, I said, "We do mediocre church music here every Sunday! I don't need the Tara Choral Guild for that."
Do you get the point?
When you try to force a square peg into a round hole, which benefits more?
Doesn't it harm both?
Do you believe that God created you? Do you believe God is great and good and loving and powerful? Then isn't it just possible that God did a good job in your creation, and that God has a pretty powerful and good will for you?
How does it serve God, or you, or anyone else, for you to be miserable? Isn't it just possible that there is a hole the perfectly fits the peg your are, and that you are resisting God's will, and hurting yourself and others by persisting in a life that makes you miserable?
The first week I was pastoring I felt guilty because I was enjoying myself so much! All my training had me convinced, emotionally at least, that God's will couldn't possibly be fun, that if I was enjoying myself I must be out of the will of God!
I'm still waiting for somebody to show me where that is in the Bible.
What if God, in creating you, revealed his will for you in the deepest desires of your heart? What if you can recognize God's will by what gives you the greatest joy?
When I studied ethics in college, I learned that hedonism makes a pretty good ethic, if it's applied properly. Follow me on this: hedonism is the pursuit of pleasure. But what is the greater pleasure, a long happy life, or an orgy of delight ending in premature death? Hedonism, properly applied, teaches that moderation in all things actually brings the greatest pleasure; that being a good neighbor will bring greater pleasure, being a good citizen, being a good spouse, being a good parent, even if, in the short run, they might bring some temporary discomfort.
Do you like to exercise? I don't. I love to eat what I want, when I want. I love to stay up late reading or watching my favorite movies, and sleeping without an alarm clock, getting up when I wake up. But I don't like being overweight. I don't like how I look or how I feel when I'm 30 pounds above where I should be. I don't like how I feel when I've sat around all day and accomplished nothing because I slept until nearly noon.
So hedonism teaches me that I'll be happier if I endure the discomfort, the displeasure, of exercise now, of an intelligent diet now, of a disciplined sleep schedule now, so that I may live a longer, healthier, happier, more fulfilled life.
One more illustration: The last five years I pastored, what kept me sane was singing with a fine organization, The Tara Choral Guild. For two hours every Tuesday night, I would sit in rehearsal working on very difficult music, shooting for perfection. I was frequently nervous, not entirely sure I was up to the challenge!
One spring we did Mozart's Requiem. I swear, I was still making mistakes in the performance. I never did get that thing to perfection. But my wife says it was the finest performace we gave in the years I was in the Guild. And I'm very proud of that performance, prouder of many easier things I probably performed better.
Spending that time weekly with fine musicians struggling for excellence was some of the greatest therapy I ever knew. The pursuit of excellence is not exhausting, it's exhilirating!
We sang in one of the finest auditoriums in the world, Spivey Hall on the campus of Clayton State College in Morrow, Georgia. But we had some problems with the staff at Spivey at that concert, and we decided not to sing there again. We decided we'd find some accomodating church who would let us use their auditorium. After working so hard on the Mozart, the guild decided not to do anything new the next season; they chose instead to pull out some things we already knew, and to take it easy for our next concert.
That's when I quit the Tara Choral Guild. As long as we were striving for excellence, I found great joy and healing in singing with them. But then they chose mediocre church music over excellence, well, I had better things to do with my Tuesday evenings. In the last years of my burnout with church work, I said, "We do mediocre church music here every Sunday! I don't need the Tara Choral Guild for that."
Do you get the point?
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