As I grew up, I learned that respect comes in different forms. I'm supposed to respect my elders (age has its privileges; we assume the older are also wiser). I'm supposed to respect the American flag (don't let it touch the ground). I'm supposed to respect the wilderness (leave it as if it were untouched).
One of my challenges -- and perhaps not only mine -- is that I have a hard time separating respect from tolerance. In our current age of deep disagreement, we regularly witness some new outrage de jour, some new idea or person whom we're supposed to name, shame, and obliterate when not in line with the cultural orthodoxy.
It seems that more often than not, those who demand we join the militant march for social justice on whatever fashionable issue it is we ought to be angry about and fighting for (e.g., the trending hashtags on Twitter) are the very ones who self-describe as tolerant. Yet in practice, they seem to be the most intolerant, making room only for people who share their exact view.
Yet tolerance has often meant a kind of respect for the views of others. Sometimes it takes the form of "to each his/her own" or "you do you" or "live and let live." But this kind of respect strikes me as only really being possible when we're talking about things that don't matter much. It's not too difficult for me to respect or tolerate others whose views or convictions I don't find all that relevant, interesting, or even offensive. For me, something like veganism isn't really a big deal. If you're like me, perhaps you and I will pat ourselves on the back for being tolerant and respectful of vegans. But for some vegans, it's a put-my-stake-in-the-ground issue. So we might imagine, there are vegans who tolerate and respect, and militant vegans who don't.
Yet, if tolerance and respect are really only the sorts of attitudes we have for things that don't matter much, I'm not sure we're really talking about tolerance or respect at all.
It's with this in mind that I'm deeply appreciative of John Inazu's understanding of tolerance. Inazu is a professor of law at Washington University, and his recent book Confident Pluralism: Surviving and Thriving through Deep Difference is one I highly recommend. He describes tolerance as the ability to live with others whom we might think are reprehensible, whose views are deplorable, and with whom we vehemently disagree.
Tolerance of this sort is only possible because of the shared humanity we have with one another. That is, if you claim the right to hold to certain convictions that you consider sacred and inviolable, then out of respect for the shared humanity of all others, you must allow the same kind of space for someone to utterly hate, despise, and reject the things you believe are most important. To the extent that we do not do this, we dehumanize the other, failing both at respect and tolerance.
As Inazu describes it, tolerance that aims to foster a kind of co-existence among those who are deeply different is only possible on the basis of a certain kind of respect: one which sees humans as being equal in a fundamental way.
Now, this may sound very pie-in-the-sky, like a view through rose-colored glasses, especially in our present age of outrage in which we tend to live in echo chambers that merely serve to support our own personal perspective on things, encouraging us to believe that we are unquestionably right, and that those who disagree with us are just plain wrong (or bad or evil, etc.).
From my angle, there's really only one way that Inazu's account can work: we have to see one another as made in the image of God. Such a perspective demands from us a certain kind of treatment of others-otherwise, to think less of them on the basis of disagreement would amount to offending God Himself.
So I find it very timely that a wise friend recently pointed something out to me: Jesus never let an issue or behavior stand in the way of a relationship. That is, Jesus treated people with dignity even when He disagreed with them. That's respect of the deepest and most genuine sort. Jesus sees people for who they really are. That's risky and vulnerable, to be sure. But it seems to me that in our age of outrage, that's what most of us really want: to be taken seriously, to be heard, and for our views to be considered rather than immediately dismissed. When that happens, we feel validated, humanized -- as if our existence and our thoughts matter. That's respect.
I think Inazu's vision is something our culture desperately needs. I'm taking Jesus as my model in trying to achieve it in my small corner of the world. I invite you to as well.
Written by Chad Lakies
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Tuesday, February 18, 2020
Tuesday, February 4, 2020
Leadership
A lot of what Christianity has to say about leadership can be summed up pretty well in one story about Jesus with His followers: "A dispute also arose among them, as to which of them was to be regarded as the greatest. And He said to them, 'The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them, and those in authority over them are called benefactors. But not so with you. Rather, let the greatest among you become as the youngest, and the leader as one who serves. For who is the greater, one who reclines at table or one who serves? Is it not the one who reclines at table? But I am among you as the One who serves'" (Luke 22:24-27).
This might not sound as revolutionary as it really is. After all, there are 20 pages of books on Amazon on the topic of "servant leadership." It's become a buzzword in management training.
Real Service?
And yet ... how many cases do you know of leaders who really serve others? I'm not talking about the folks who do photo ops at a soup kitchen, or use a golden shovel to turn the first scoop of earth at a groundbreaking ceremony. Real servant leadership is costly. It means getting involved in the unpleasant side of other people's lives. And really, who wants to do that? It's not like people are exactly panting to pick up other people's trash, or wipe incontinent people's bottoms.
And yet, when leaders actually do serve, amazing things can happen. I remember a small immigrant church that had a real problem with getting people to work together. Everybody was so concerned about his or her own prestige that nobody would lift a finger to do the necessary but lowly tasks that make a community run smoothly. Everyone wanted to be a leader; nobody wanted to be a servant.
Things went on this way until the pastor of the church and another leader got a great idea. Between the two of them, they were the highest-status people in the church, and everyone looked up to them. So the next time there was a Christmas party, and everyone was finishing up eating, they each grabbed a rolling trash can and took it around the tables, picking up people's dirty paper plates and throwing them away. You should have seen the looks on people's faces as their leaders cleared away trash with their own hands.
But that had a great result. In the next few weeks, people began pitching in on all sorts of tasks. Some started cooking and cleaning; some offered rides to other people without cars; some helped direct parking in a cold, muddy field. People stopped worrying about their own status and started caring for others. That's the power of real servant leadership. And it's a tiny example of the sort of leadership Jesus calls all who follow Him to exercise.
But there are other things Christianity has to say to anyone who wants to be a good leader. If a good leader is there to serve, then questions come up that demand answers:
Where exactly am I leading these people to?
Is it a good place?
Is it the place we ought to be going?
How will we know when we get there?
This seems like a pretty obvious set of questions, but you'd be amazed by the number of people who set out to lead without having any clear idea what they're leading people to. I was once part of an inter-ethnic coalition who spent their first year or more arguing about their reason for existing. They all believed the coalition ought to exist, but they all had totally different ideas what it ought to do. And of course, if you don't know what you're supposed to be doing or where you're heading, you're not going to be happy with where you eventually end up.
The biblical leader Moses was a leader who knew exactly where he was going with his people, an entire nation of ex-slaves who had just become free. They needed a new land, a renewed faith, and a new cultural pattern to live by. Though the Israelites drove him crazy on a regular basis, he kept on toward the goal: Canaan, the Promised Land.
Why exactly am I leading, anyway?
Is it because I really care about these people and what we're trying to get done?
Is it an ego trip for me?
Unfortunately, Western cultures in particular give leadership jobs a lot of status—so much so that people who don't know how to lead, and don't particularly want to lead, still try to get into those positions just so they can enjoy the status. But of course that ends in a mess for everybody involved. We need to work on getting the right people into leadership—those who are gifted with wisdom, patience, caring, and a talent for working with people.
David was another biblical leader, a king who spent most of his life at war. He was known for taking care of his soldiers. He saw to it that they had what they needed—food, rest, a place for their families to be safe—and he himself went out with his forces to lead them. They knew they mattered to him. In fact, the one time he didn't go out with his forces, David wound up in a major leadership mess involving adultery, murder, and the betrayal of a fellow soldier. He proved this principle of good leadership both ways—by the times he kept it, and by the one time he spectacularly broke it, and everyone suffered the consequences.
When the people I'm leading drive me crazy, what then?
Do I give it up as a bad job?
Do I see how I might amend the situation and turn it into something good for those involved?
And if so, where am I going to find the wisdom and the strength to make that happen?
Every leader faces moments of resistance from those led—times when the people drive him or her nuts. Moses certainly did. His reaction was not to quit, however. Instead, he did a lot of yelling and metaphorical hair-pulling, and then he went to talk with God about the problem. He found wisdom as he prayed and listened to what God had to say. This gave him the strength to carry on as leader for 40 years, even though the people were making just about every mistake they could think of to make.
What about you, in your leadership? Where do you find strength, wisdom, and the patience to carry on? Could you possibly find it in the same place? Something to consider, maybe.
Written by the THRED Team
You can let us know what you think about this by clicking here and leaving a comment.
You can let the folks at THRED know what you think by clicking here.
This might not sound as revolutionary as it really is. After all, there are 20 pages of books on Amazon on the topic of "servant leadership." It's become a buzzword in management training.
Real Service?
And yet ... how many cases do you know of leaders who really serve others? I'm not talking about the folks who do photo ops at a soup kitchen, or use a golden shovel to turn the first scoop of earth at a groundbreaking ceremony. Real servant leadership is costly. It means getting involved in the unpleasant side of other people's lives. And really, who wants to do that? It's not like people are exactly panting to pick up other people's trash, or wipe incontinent people's bottoms.
And yet, when leaders actually do serve, amazing things can happen. I remember a small immigrant church that had a real problem with getting people to work together. Everybody was so concerned about his or her own prestige that nobody would lift a finger to do the necessary but lowly tasks that make a community run smoothly. Everyone wanted to be a leader; nobody wanted to be a servant.
Things went on this way until the pastor of the church and another leader got a great idea. Between the two of them, they were the highest-status people in the church, and everyone looked up to them. So the next time there was a Christmas party, and everyone was finishing up eating, they each grabbed a rolling trash can and took it around the tables, picking up people's dirty paper plates and throwing them away. You should have seen the looks on people's faces as their leaders cleared away trash with their own hands.
But that had a great result. In the next few weeks, people began pitching in on all sorts of tasks. Some started cooking and cleaning; some offered rides to other people without cars; some helped direct parking in a cold, muddy field. People stopped worrying about their own status and started caring for others. That's the power of real servant leadership. And it's a tiny example of the sort of leadership Jesus calls all who follow Him to exercise.
But there are other things Christianity has to say to anyone who wants to be a good leader. If a good leader is there to serve, then questions come up that demand answers:
Where exactly am I leading these people to?
Is it a good place?
Is it the place we ought to be going?
How will we know when we get there?
This seems like a pretty obvious set of questions, but you'd be amazed by the number of people who set out to lead without having any clear idea what they're leading people to. I was once part of an inter-ethnic coalition who spent their first year or more arguing about their reason for existing. They all believed the coalition ought to exist, but they all had totally different ideas what it ought to do. And of course, if you don't know what you're supposed to be doing or where you're heading, you're not going to be happy with where you eventually end up.
The biblical leader Moses was a leader who knew exactly where he was going with his people, an entire nation of ex-slaves who had just become free. They needed a new land, a renewed faith, and a new cultural pattern to live by. Though the Israelites drove him crazy on a regular basis, he kept on toward the goal: Canaan, the Promised Land.
Why exactly am I leading, anyway?
Is it because I really care about these people and what we're trying to get done?
Is it an ego trip for me?
Unfortunately, Western cultures in particular give leadership jobs a lot of status—so much so that people who don't know how to lead, and don't particularly want to lead, still try to get into those positions just so they can enjoy the status. But of course that ends in a mess for everybody involved. We need to work on getting the right people into leadership—those who are gifted with wisdom, patience, caring, and a talent for working with people.
David was another biblical leader, a king who spent most of his life at war. He was known for taking care of his soldiers. He saw to it that they had what they needed—food, rest, a place for their families to be safe—and he himself went out with his forces to lead them. They knew they mattered to him. In fact, the one time he didn't go out with his forces, David wound up in a major leadership mess involving adultery, murder, and the betrayal of a fellow soldier. He proved this principle of good leadership both ways—by the times he kept it, and by the one time he spectacularly broke it, and everyone suffered the consequences.
When the people I'm leading drive me crazy, what then?
Do I give it up as a bad job?
Do I see how I might amend the situation and turn it into something good for those involved?
And if so, where am I going to find the wisdom and the strength to make that happen?
Every leader faces moments of resistance from those led—times when the people drive him or her nuts. Moses certainly did. His reaction was not to quit, however. Instead, he did a lot of yelling and metaphorical hair-pulling, and then he went to talk with God about the problem. He found wisdom as he prayed and listened to what God had to say. This gave him the strength to carry on as leader for 40 years, even though the people were making just about every mistake they could think of to make.
What about you, in your leadership? Where do you find strength, wisdom, and the patience to carry on? Could you possibly find it in the same place? Something to consider, maybe.
Written by the THRED Team
You can let us know what you think about this by clicking here and leaving a comment.
You can let the folks at THRED know what you think by clicking here.
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