By Rev. Terry Davis
Delivered at Northwest Unitarian Universalist Congregation on August 28, 2016
Sunday afternoon last week began like it usually does. I returned home after the worship service, changed into some casual clothes, and Gail and I took our dog Miles for a little walk.
Monday is garbage pick-up day on our street. And, our neighbors had started parking their Herbie Curbies out in front of their houses like they usually do. Also out on the curb, our neighbors had placed the fruits of their weekend garage- and basement-cleaning labors, like they usually do – items like busted bookshelves, archaic and gigantic stereo speakers, kid’s plastic playroom furniture that has long surpassed its useful life expectancy, that sort of thing.
I like throwing things away, so the line “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure” doesn’t necessarily describe me. Not so for Gail. She has her father’s passion for collecting tossed-out household items to eventually repair or repurpose.
And, as a metal artist, Gail is also always on the lookout for the discarded iron This or the rusted-out That to use in a future whimsical sculpture. Because we have a garage and basement full of items, I usually try to buzz by these piles quickly, hoping Gail won’t stop and get interested.
But, she is her father’s daughter and she has an artist’s eye. And, so last Sunday, she did spot a few treasures – a pile of tomato plant poles and two old timey-looking sprinkler heads – the kind with the curved metal arms that spin and sprocket water in the air in a wiggly fashion.
“I wonder if these still work,” she murmured as she bent over to scoop them up. “If they don’t, I can use them for my metal art.”
Oh, no, I thought to myself.
“Now, honey,” I plead in what I thought was a sweet-sounding voice. “You don’t need that, do you? You have so much junk – I mean, stuff – already at home.” But it was too late. Because at that moment, our neighbor Lena came bounding out of her house, apparently noticing Gail’s interest in her trash.
“Do these work?” Gail asked, holding up the sprinklers. “Our backyard could use a few.” Lena laughed and confirmed that they probably did, saying, “We were just cleaning out our garage and figured we didn’t need them.”
Deal sealed.
Gail, knowing I wasn’t too happy about this latest American Pickers experience, insisted on walking Miles the rest of the way home. She kept his leash in one hand, while tucking the bundle of tomato plant poles under her arm and grasped the two sprinkler heads with her other hand.
Perhaps as an olive branch, once we arrived home, Gail agreed to toss out a few empty plastic pots and some small pieces of metal that were in our backyard. But, then I pressed her to clean up some more, which she resisted.
It wasn’t long before we were having our classic argument – the one we’ve had oh, so many times in our 21-year relationship . . . the one that points up a major difference between us.
Gail, the Collector, vs. Terry, the Neatnik. My tidiness feels confining and sterile to Gail, while her collecting makes me feel overwhelmed and weighted down.
We have tried different methods to resolve this difference between us. For instance, we have erected plenty of China Walls in our home. There’s Gail’s side of the closet and my side of the closet. There’s her filing cabinet and my filing cabinet. There’s my half of the garage and her half of the garage. We have what I call “no-fly zones” in our house – empty corners and counter surfaces that we’ve agreed shall be free from any papers, boxes, or objects . . . or those papers, boxes and objects are at risk of being pitched. And, we have “Gail zones” – the basement, her studio, and our shared office – where Gail is free to put whatever she pleases in those spaces.
While we’ve had some success with these methods, the truth is that we’d both like a little more.
She’d like a little more stuff. I’d like a little more space . . . okay . . . a lot more space.
It feels a little silly telling you about this long-running power struggle between us. But, I have a point, and it’s this: Our world is filled with people who aren’t like us at all – and I don’t mean just in habits and personal preferences. We have much bigger and what are perceived as much more threatening differences – differences in race, religion, culture, politics, sexual orientation, and gender expression, to name a few.
And, when these differences seem to threaten our sense of well-being, things can get ugly. We can begin to dehumanize the person who is so different from us. Polish journalist and author Ryszard Kapuscinski referred to them in this morning’s reading as “the Other,” spelling the word “other” with a capital “O.”
When the Other is a family member or long-time friend – perhaps “other” spelled with a lower-case “o” – it may be a little easier to stay connected and keep the conversation going in a respectful way (and maybe not). When the Other is a capital “O” Other – a person in power, institution or a nation that possesses beliefs and acts in ways that are so different from us – staying connected and staying in dialogue can be much harder.
I imagine we all have at least one capital “O” Other in our lives. If we’re Democrats, the Other may be Republicans. If we’re Republicans, it’s Democrats. If we’re pro-life, the Other are those who are pro-choice. If we want to end the death penalty, it’s those who favor capital punishment. I imagine we all know what the polarizing issues are and where we stand on them.
So what about us and what about those Others? Can we stay connected and listen? Is it possible to bridge our differences? How do we get from You and Me to We?
Our reading today reminds us that human beings have a long history of preferring to stick to their own kind and of being wary of capital “O” Others. Kapuscinski writes that the ancient Chinese, Babylonians, and Romans all built walls to keep unwanted people out. We know that walls have also been built to keep people in and from mixing with the wrong kind.
The Berlin Wall, for instance, was built virtually overnight in 1961 by East Germany to keep their countrymen and women from crossing the border into West Germany to escape Communism, which apparently they had been doing every year by the thousands for 12 years.
Despite living in an age of globalization, airplanes, and social media – a time when walls might seem archaic and useless – we know they’re still a popular idea among some. The grouping of walls between the U.S. and Mexico that creates 650 miles of barricade is one example. Some say that this border wall is needed to protect lives and the U.S. economy. They say that the walls reduce illegal immigration and drug smuggling and, by keeping the Other out, increase job opportunities for legal citizens. Others argue that the walls are too expensive and morally wrong – that they’ve created a humanitarian crisis, with thousands of migrants perishing to death due to violence or to succumbing to the sweltering heat of the southern Arizona desert.
Who is right? Who is wrong? How can we get from You and Me to We?
I have often thought that getting from You and Me to We meant discovering where we have common ground. I envision common ground as that sacred meeting place where courageous, open-hearted and level-headed people finally put aside their differences and come together and identify a mutual opinion or interest. Yet, it appears that common ground is simply just not reachable in all circumstances. We haven’t found common ground yet on the U.S./Mexico wall issue and many other concerns.
Which is why American journalist and author Krista Tippett, who was the keynote speaker at the Unitarian Universalist General Assembly this past June, suggests that we may be better served by approaching our differences with the understanding that we share a common life on this planet. Recognizing that we have a common life when we can’t find common ground may help us at least stay in conversation with one another.
In her latest book, Tippett recalls her interview with Frances Kissling, a scholar and activist in the fields of religion and reproductive rights and who served as president of Catholics for a Free Choice. Tippett says Kissling “Stopped using some of the comforting words we understandably reflexively leap to as a basis for dialogue, like identifying common ground in the midst of deep differences.”[ref]Krista Tippett, Becoming Wise: An Inquiry into the Mystery and Art of Living (Penguin Press, New York, NY: 2016), 32. [/ref]
She quotes Kissling:
I think that common ground can be found between people who do not have deep, deep differences . . . To think you are going to take the National Conference of Catholic Bishops and the National Organization of Women and they are going to find common ground on abortion is not practical, it’s not gonna happen. And we could extend that.
But I do think that when people who disagree with each other come together with a goal of gaining a better understanding of why the other believes what they do, good things come of that. But the pressure of coming to agreement works against really understanding each other. And we don’t understand each other.[ref]Ibid.[/ref]
I think what Kissling is saying is that seeking to understand the Other – capital “O” or lower-case “o” – without judging or attempts to persuade, is perhaps the most vital thing we can do when we seem to be stuck in a You and Me or You vs. Me place.
It requires humility to enter into a conversation with no other objective than to understand another’s point of view. To do so suggests that we’ve made an important shift in priorities. It means we’ve put our connection to and relationship with another person ahead of winning an argument or getting someone else to see our side of things.
Of course, there are some people and groups that will never stop trying to get us to conform to their world view. And, there are opinions and actions that are harmful to us and the world around us. When another’s words and deeds become oppressive, we must resist and even adopt methods of coercion to get results. Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., for example, advocated various forms of nonviolent coercion: massive civil disobedience, boycotts, demonstrations and other “confrontations” with established power for social change.[ref]Samuel Dubois Cook, “Coercion and Social Change,” Coercion, J. Roland Pennock and John W. Chapman, editors (Transaction Publishers, New Brunswick, NJ: 1972), 137. [/ref]
But Dr. King also did a lot of listening.
Certainly my personal relationships benefit when I’m able to listen to the Other and put my agenda aside. That was the case a few days after my argument with Gail. I was able to hear again and more deeply how much joy she gets from collecting. Yet, nothing has changed in our basic natures and likely never will.
Ryszard Kapuscinski pointed out three choices we have when encountering the Other: we can choose war, we can build a wall around ourselves, or we can enter into dialogue.
May we find the willingness to opt for listening and conversation – and may we support others in our common life who strive to do the same.
May it be so for you, for me . . . and for we. Amen.