A few years ago, my wife and I had the privilege of visiting a monastery in South Africa. Like many monasteries, Mariya uMama weThemba observed the Great Silence from roughly 8:00 p.m. to 8:00 a.m. I relish this extended time of silence and was dismayed, when I awoke early one morning, to hear my wife (quietly) chatting at me.
I reminded her that we were in silence. Her response, with that impish twinkle I know so well: “I don’t care. I’m your wife. I’m going to talk at you anyway.†I couldn’t help but crack up (quietly).
Next story: From time to time, I have joined organizations that think big thoughts and do great things. They are actively seeking ways to make a profound difference in the world. And their contribution to the world is well worth the effort. Many times, however, these groups include a realist or two—someone whose role is to say, “I’d like that too, but here’s how this really works….â€
I love these people. And here’s why.
On the dreamer-realist scale, I fall squarely on the dreamer side: the people who push for what could be. The realists remind me of what is. I consider silence a higher good; my wife reminds me that other people have other priorities. I love spinning lofty ideas out of not a whole lot; realists remind me that I have to start with the raw material of right here, right now.
What we miss sometimes, I think, is that we need each other.
Too often, dreamers and realists disparage those on the “other side.†Yet without the realists, the dreamers would, most likely, not make as much progress as they could. Without the dreamers, the realists would, most likely, not reach beyond current realities to envision, and therefore create, breakthrough change.
If they come together with a heart for dialogue, however—a heart oriented toward suspending preconceptions, hearing the other, welcoming a deep interplay of ideas—watch out. They could be a force for serious change.
This need for each other extends well beyond realists and dreamers. I see this in my faith tradition. Many Christians, traditionally identified as progressives, stress God’s concern for the dispossessed and for justice—God’s action in the world. Many others, traditionally identified as conservatives, stress the importance of sanctity and the joy of a personal relationship with the Divine—God’s action in each person.
These emphases often come into conflict. Progressives, for instance, see LGBTQ equality as a justice issue for a dispossessed group of people; conservatives see it as an erosion of godly personal behavior. What if they came together with a heart for dialogue—not tussling over the issue at hand, but listening and probing more deeply to understand, and appreciate, the other’s deeper beliefs? Both sets of beliefs (if the Christian scriptures are any guide) are close to the heart of God, after all.
With a heart for dialogue, we can dispense with our instinctive hostility and instead approach our adversaries with curiosity. We can be open to hear what they have to offer that we need, and vice versa. In most cases, I truly believe the whole will be greater than the sum of the parts.
Nice piece, and a very nice idea. And as an idea, it is great. Here’s where you need the very realists you know you need. How does one begin a conversation with those who are not listening? That is to say, how do you challenge the views of those who don’t allow themselves to be challenged? The closest I have gotten with those who I know are of the “marriage is for one man and woman, period” type is to say that they love the sinner hate the sin.
That’s not really listening, and it’s not really fair to the LGBT community. If someone told me that while they love me but hate the fact that I am married to my wife of 25 years this February (yeah!), I’d have a hard time saying to that person- wow that’s an interesting idea.
The best way to deal with these issues on the ground is to avoid the topic altogether. I know this is just what the doctor didn’t order- I know we are supposed to engage in dialogue, etc. but it is almost never productive, so I engage Ockam’s razor and say let’s just split the difference. You go your way, I’ll go mine.
Taking this middle position, asking for dialogue, etc. is all well and good, but when the other side is just talking with fingers in the ears, it becomes a practice in futility.
Just being realistic I guess. Good idea though!
Thanks for the comment, Dan. Let me respond first by cutting to the most important part: congratulations on 25 years. That is a rare achievement and one to be mightily celebrated.
There’s no question that some people are not to be dialogued with. They’re not interested and may even see dialogue as an undesirable thing–something that at best is unproductive and at worst might nudge them to compromise. (They’re right about the latter.) You’re absolutely right: they don’t listen and it’s not fair.
But I can’t throw out the idea of dialogue just for these folks. Instead, I try two other approaches. One is to dialogue with those who disagree with me and yet are open to dialogue. With these people, there’s serious progress to be made: whether you end up agreeing or not, at least you’ve forged a bond that may yield fruit later.
The other approach is simply to live with the folks who don’t necessarily want to listen–who’ve made their minds up and won’t be swayed. I don’t know whether it makes a difference, but it does put them face to face with you in all your essential humanity. As a member of my church says about our Diocesan Convention, when our delegation shows up and lives among all those conservatives, they at least see that we don’t have two horns and a tail. And when we speak up and say things that even they consider reasonable, their respect for us increases. It’s not a perfect approach; as you say, this is one tough nut to crack. But it’s a start.