book 10 - Ch. 3 (3 of 4) - The All-Knowing Ideal & Reflections on Prejudice

ALL-KNOWING

Another part of our idolatry of self is assuming, like god, that we are all-knowing. Christianity has often spoken about god in certain terms. That certainty easily translates into other certainties (i.e political, ethical, dogmatic, economic, etc.). Looking to the polarization in our current political climate and the news sources that promote it, it is possible to get all of our information from people who think like us. This produces in us a god-like certainty, but it fails to allow us to recognize the limitations of our perspective. While we assume our perspective is reality, the fact is that it is only one perspective out of seven billion.

When I hear people speak about “the real world,” I cringe because so often they define it based on their limited viewpoint. We live in a world where eighty percent of people survive on less than ten dollars a day, and hunger-related causes are the number one killer. More than twenty thousand people, many of whom are children, die of hunger-related issues each day. The real world is a much more complicated place than our personal experience might suggest. One can easily argue that “the real world” is a place of oppression, extreme inequality, and indifference, but we are often sheltered from the way life is experienced by the majority of our sisters and brothers and the ways that we have contributed to their experience.

While the assumption that our experience defines the real world makes things simpler, it inhibits our ability to understand what life is like for many of those with whom we share the world. One of my professors began his class by informing us that “real learning complicates one’s thinking.” I have found this to be profoundly true. Authentic learning doesn’t give us answers; it makes us aware of how much we don’t know. It allows us to see that the one with whom we argue or debate often is not opposed to our ideal but believes there is a more fundamental ideal. This recognition can shift us from demonization of our adversary to dialogue about which ideals are most essential. Real learning demands that we embrace the humble role of the searcher instead of the secure role of the knower. Unfortunately, we often require that our education conforms itself to our assumptions because that is more convenient than a challenge to replace our certainty with openness. We need to learn to be suspicious of news and education that eliminates ambiguity and demonizes the other. If we cannot seriously consider a perspective different than our own, then we are operating with a god-like certainty. This does not mean that we need ideologues from all extremes to take turns selling a perspective; instead, we need reporters to help viewers explore core elements of a debate. Polarized lenses ultimately prevent us from authentically experiencing and responding to reality, which is messy and complicated.

Our political climate encourages closed-mindedness by demonizing the other. Once the other is established as evil, her or his ideas no longer need to be addressed. Sometimes it is easier to discredit a person, group, or party than an idea. Is manufactured anger and outrage against the other a more effective political strategy than open-minded consideration of various sides of an issue? If the answer is yes, then we must reflect upon whether this polarizing strategy promotes or undermines societal well-being. At the very least political strategies based on demonization rather than thoughtful, in-depth examinations of issues lead to an inconsistent application of our own values and ideals. These strategies demonstrate greater faith in a manipulative, authoritarian politics than in the democratic ideal of an educated people deciding for themselves which we claim to cherish.

When we apply a simplistic lens in religious settings, Jesus is seen not as someone who offers a challenge to how we live but rather as someone who confirms our assumptions. The danger of a literalist or fundamentalist approach to the reading of scriptures is that we inject our thoughts into the Bible or into whichever sacred text we embrace. Unintentionally, our prejudices and assumptions are given primacy over fundamental scriptural themes. If we are fearful, angry, violent, and judgmental, we find those sentiments reinforced in our holy books. If we are fixated on personal or communal self-interest, we find our preferences conveniently endorsed. If we are racist or sexist, we find support for those prejudices.

Ironically, parables, one of Jesus’ preferred methods of teaching, undercut our preference for clarity and affirmation. The anti-apartheid Dominican priest, Albert Nolan, observed that unlike myths, which validate the present order, parables undermine the status quo. These stories complicate the listeners’ thinking, challenging them to question their assumptions and see reality differently. Jesus’ stories invite members of his audience to question their preference for those who are like them, their tendency to look down on those identified as sinners, and their inclination to view themselves as more ethical than others.

In the Gospels Jesus subverts certainty and challenges his followers to let go of the answers to which they turn for security. The Franciscan spiritual writer Richard Rohr identifies a pattern involving fourteen triads in the Sermon on the Mount wherein Jesus establishes conventional wisdom (“you have heard that it was said… you shall not kill… do not take a false oath… you shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy”), then invites his audience to consider a disconcerting alternative (“but I say to you… whoever is angry with his brother is liable to judgment… do not swear at all… let your ‘yes’ mean ‘yes,’ and your ‘no’ mean ‘no’… love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you”). The radically unconventional nature of this section is especially evident in Jesus’ challenges relating to prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. He recognizes that all three of these “holy” actions can be self-serving, so he advises that they be done in secret. When done in secret the followers abandon the need to know that their actions, at the very least, will be rewarded with public affirmation. Overall, the triads invite the audience to let go of the security provided by customary wisdom and have faith that Jesus’ radical self-giving is a worthwhile path. Believers often have not been willing to adopt this uncertain path, preferring to maintain their own conventional views about power, violence, judgment, wealth, and “us versus them.” This requires that god conforms to their beliefs rather than believers striving to conform their lives to Jesus’ alternative model.

Jesus does not require that god conforms to his preferred assumption. He neither begins with answers nor with the seemingly certain knowledge that we admire. We see this in the Garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus models the approach of the searcher. His understandable desire is to escape his peril, but he is more committed to discerning and discovering the right path (for Jesus “god’s will”) than following his personal desire. Jesus’ tendency to go away to a quiet place also indicates that his clarity related to a commitment to search for “god’s will.” Our attachments to certainty and our assumptions do not allow us to follow Jesus’ model of discernment because discernment always starts with a question and not an answer. Our ego cannot accept this because it already has the answer, which is whatever appears to be in its own interest.

Jesus also does not use answers as a basis of power. When addressing a tragic incident involving the Tower of Siloam, Jesus declines to give an answer about why this event occurred. He only calls into question the traditional answer, which held that those who died were being punished for their own sins or the sins of their family members. He resists the temptation to resolve the question of suffering by blaming the victim, and he relinquishes the power he could have asserted over his audience with a firm answer.

The perception that we have the answers imbues us with an air of authority. This is especially true in conversations about religion. In the Roman Catholic tradition, priests are assumed to have all the answers. Their authority is tied to this all-knowing presumption. The refrain “Ask Father” carries an assumption that something is true because he says it. As a theology teacher I have experienced a similar phenomenon. Many students assume that I have some magical, special knowledge of god and everything else to which they are expected to subscribe. That perceived knowledge can serves as the basis of my authority in the classroom as well as a minister’s authority in a religious institution. If the truth ever comes out that we are searching like they are, one wonders if they would have any reason to listen to us. This is only a problem if we feel a need to control others or wish to appear to have a special knowledge; therefore, it is important for us to be able to say “I don’t know.” Jesus indirectly does that in the Garden of Gethsemane and in his response to the Tower of Siloam. His followers have too often been unwilling to follow his ex-ample. While acknowledging the limitation of our knowing undermines our power over our students or those to whom we minister, it empowers us to be with and encourage them in their uncertainty and searching.

One of my favorite sayings asserts, “If it’s true it doesn’t matter who said it.” Ironically, I don’t know who said this, but I agree that the truth is found in ideas, not in authority figures. Therefore, people, especially students, should be taught to think critically about what they hear and evaluate it for themselves. Respect should not imply submitting one’s intellect to one’s teacher. An authority figure (a teacher, parent, politician, political commentator, news personality, religious leader, etc.) who expected this mindless assent would not deserve that respect. In no way does this imply we should not engage with and be open to our teachers’ perspectives; rather, it requires that teachers’ perspectives earn our consent through convincing logic.

PREJUDICE AND THE ALL-KNOWING ASSUMPTION

Another way we universalize our perspective is by judging others. It has been observed that too often “we don’t see each other; we see our thoughts about each other.” This is the essence of prejudice. Prejudice involves treating a limited experience, “our thoughts,” as the ultimate reality.

In my classes many of my students know that if they work hard in life they will be successful. The temptation for them is to assume if someone isn’t making it that person must not be working hard. The problem here is that we sometimes turn our personal experience into a universal reality. We judge people or groups without acknowledging that their context is different than ours. The experience of a poor person today is different than that of an upper middle or upper class individual.

In our society the question of racism is often written off by appealing to a person’s own history. “America is truly the land of opportunity,” the person says, “My (grand)father was an immigrant and people were mean to him, but he worked hard and so did I and look where it has gotten us.” The person concludes, “Therefore, minorities in poverty are there because they are lazy, not because racism is still a problem.” Personal responsibility has a place in any discussion of success because human well-being requires individual empowerment, but in this case the assumption that it is the complete solution is based on a flawed logic. It assumes that the early 20th century, immigrant experience is universal. Immigrants, in general, came to this country because, while not perfect, they believed in the opportunities it presented to them. These people willingly chose to trust and adopt a new culture and a new system, and the system worked for many of them. They also experienced their rise during times where class mobility was more prevalent. It’s worth noting that some of the policies that promoted class mobility during these times were not available to minorities. Today, the rate of American class mobility is lower than it was in the past; the rate of class mobility in America is currently lower than that of many other developed nations.

Prejudice is undermined by an understanding of the power of context. When we understand the impact of context, we cannot judge until we have searched for greater clarity regarding other people’s unique life experience and educated ourselves about what life is like “in their shoes.” As we come to see others’ contexts more clearly, we will often find that sympathy replaces judgment.

When one looks at the minority experience, it is easy to understand why minorities would not feel as comfortable putting their faith in this culture or its system. African Americans had their culture and identity stolen from them. Three hundred and fifty of the four hundred years since the first European colony in America have involved a status quo that explicitly accepted racism. To maintain any identity in the face of such a dehumanizing system, a certain antipathy toward that system would be necessary, and a lack of faith in that system would be completely natural. Many assume that racism magically vanished when Martin Luther King, Jr. came along, but many of the civil rights changes were mandated by the government and do not prove that there was a widespread or long-term social conversion.

Native Americans, over the course of centuries, saw their land and culture taken from them. Their dignity continues to be devalued, and our ignorance continues to be evidenced, in the indifference to poverty in Native American communities and through customs like the celebration of Columbus Day. This holiday (Holy Day) overlooks the fact that Hispaniola’s Native American (Taíno) population was decimated in the aftermath of Columbus’s “discovery.” Common estimates place the number of Taínos when Columbus arrived around 300,000 (though some sources suggest the population reached into the millions). Within sixty years of Columbus’s arrival, there were less than 500 Taínos left on Hispaniola. It can be reasonably argued that Columbus and his compatriots initiated a genocide; the record of the cruelties he and companions inflicted on this population is shocking. Additionally, Columbus was one of the first slave traders in the Americas. In 1498, he journaled, “From here one might send, in the name of the Holy Trinity, as many slaves as could be sold.” In spite of these realities, Columbus is still treated as a hero by many Americans.

I suspect many people assume that America is all-good, and therefore, its history must be built on justice. As a result, there is not widespread sensitivity to the experience of those who we have victimized. Too often the question of victimization only relates to the ways in which the world is unfair to those with whom we identify and fails to recognize how we have exploited others. I would encourage anyone reading this outside of an American context to consider their own society’s imperfect history.

Efforts to promote the knowledge of questionable and unethical elements of our national story are still bitterly contested. There was a recent push to eliminate AP U.S. History in Oklahoma high schools. One concern is that it is too critical of the United States. However, after showing a brief documentary on the experience of African Americans leading up to the Civil Rights Movement, I asked a few members of our school’s diversity group whether they were aware of the basic information imparted. Unanimously, they agreed that this information was unfamiliar to them. If people don’t know about lynchings, widespread redlining in real estate, the Tulsa Race Riot, which was accompanied by the burning down of the wealthiest black neighborhood in America in the 1940s, the Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment, and the Detroit Race Riot, just to name a few examples, can they really be expected to take racial concerns seriously in our own times? We should be wary of those who don’t want us to question. If something cannot be questioned, then it likely is serving as an idol. Gods want to think that their perspective is the answer and feel threatened by facts that undermine their answers. Real learning is confusing; prejudice is certain.

I don’t know what it is like to be an African American, a Hispanic American, or an American Indian, but I have no doubt that the history of injustice experienced by their people at the hands of the United States has left a legacy, just as my grandfathers’ immigrant story has left a mark on my own life. To assume that those marks are the same and to judge another by my story, can only result from mistakenly assuming my experience represents a universal reality. Being raised in an upper middle class area (as I was) is different than growing up in the inner city or on a Native American reservation. Too many people judge the circumstances, actions, and attitudes of minority, disenfranchised, or impoverished groups without actually trying to consider what the world looks like from their perspective. Do the people who readily prescribe that the poor or minorities just need to work harder know any of the people who they are judging? We still live in a more or less segregated society. People reside in neighborhoods and go to religious services, stores, restaurants, vacation destinations, pools, and golf courses with those whose life experience is similar to their own. We judge people with whom we have never shared a conversation and whose stories we have never heard. When we unconsciously place our complete faith in our limited perspective and experience, we operate as though we are all- knowing. This allows us to feel like we have the answers, when, in truth, we constantly need to be searching for greater knowledge and understanding.