conviction and civility

A lot of terms have been floating around in my mind recently. They have been coming up in different discussions going on among my friends and in the wider campus community. Truth and love. Conviction and civility. Epistemological humility. All having to do with the same thing: the ability to hold deep, strong convictions with a posture of humility.

This binding together of conviction and humility is something that most people need to work on, in one of two ways. There are some people who, in the interests of sensitivity toward other people, are hesitant to claim strong convictions. There are others who have no trouble establishing their convictions, but who struggle with engaging with opposing convictions in a spirit of gentleness and humility.

I am the girl who thinks through what she believes, comes to firm conclusions, and is very forthright about sharing them. I get the strong convictions thing. I'm good at that. The humility thing, however, is something that I have increasingly realized that I need to work on. I am often not humble in my convictions. And that is something that I need to repent of and work and pray to change.

I need to be clear: I am in no way apologetic for my beliefs or the strength of them. But I realize that all too often the way I hold them is in an attitude of pride and not of humility. This manifests itself in two different ways.

First, it means that when I am listening to people who have different beliefs than I do, I listen very critically, mentally (and sometimes verbally) pulling apart their arguments to reveal the faults that exist in them.

Second, it means that when I share my own convictions, I unintentionally come across as stubbornly dogmatic. People can feel that I am trying to change their minds rather than help them understand where I'm coming from.

This is counterproductive. When I listen to others, my first task is not to critically compare their beliefs with my own. My first task is to seek to understand their beliefs in order to better understand them and love them. This does not mean that I unthinkingly agree with their opinions. It does mean that I learn to understand how someone else could think through an issue and come to a completely different conclusion than I have.

This idea of seeking understanding is crucial when I am sharing my own convictions. When I have an argumentative manner designed to convince the other person, I put her on the defensive, which can lead to her being unwilling to hear and consider what I actually have to say.

My mom always said there's no point in winning an argument if you lose the person you're arguing with.

I want to cultivate an attitude of humility and desire for understanding. When I listen to others, I want to move past the fact that I disagree with their conclusions and respect their thoughtfulness in reaching them. If I share my ideas with the goal of helping them understand me, rather than convert them to my view, they are actually more open to my ideas. Instead of feeling attacked, they feel cared for. It is amazing what a world of difference humility can make.

 

"Speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ." Ephesians 4:15

 

"But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, keeping a clear conscience, so that those who speak maliciously against your good behavior in Christ may be ashamed of their slander." 1 Peter 3:15-16

fear stops life

"I realized that attitude was stemming from fear. And I do not think in terms of fear. I do not tolerate fear in my life. I attack it and stomp it out because it is something I absolutely refuse to live with. So even though ultimately what I'm going to do hasn't changed, my attitude and motivations as I do it have. I won't be acting in fear: I'll be acting in faith."

"Hm. You're a funny little thing."

"Why?"

"How do you manage to live without fear? It's one of the fundamentals of human life...Whatever do you build your incentive structure around?"

*chuckles* "Last year was a year full of what I like to call divine bruises. God was banging me over the head again and again and again.

*whump* It's all about love. *whump* Guess what, My love is amazing and will never ever run out. I delight in giving it to you, my beloved daughter. *whump* And I want you to share that love with others. *whump* *whump* *whump*

And I began to realize that the more I am saturated with God's love, the more it flows through me into the lives of the people around me. And as it flows through me He fills me again and again so that the love increases without end.

I have experienced in a small way the truth that perfect love casts out fear. When I recognize and acknowledge the perfect and powerful love of God, I cannot fear. And you know what? Fear cannot possibly hold a candle to love as an incentive. That is why I refuse to tolerate fear as something that must be accepted."

"Wow. You are a strange little creature. In the best sense."

***

 

And that was that.

a time to wonder

 

One late afternoon in October, I was walking to the cafeteria and passed a large group. One of them, Rachel, grabbed me.

“Kate! I’m so glad you are here! I’ve been lamenting that there was no one here who would understand. Look!”

I looked, and there was a spectacular tree at the peak of its fall colors – bright orange and red with just a hint of yellow. We stopped and stared at it for a good thirty seconds, enthusing over how stunning it was.

In class later that week, our English professor was talking about Hopkins: “Hopkins made you stop and look at things you otherwise wouldn’t pay attention to. ‘Look at that!’ he would say, ‘it’s not just a tree – IT’S A TREE!’ He wanted you to stop and see all the glory of its tree-ness, instead of just glancing at it as something familiar.”

Rachel and I glanced at each other and smiled. We knew exactly what Hopkins and our professor were talking about.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was an incredibly clear, cold night. The moon was full and bright, surrounded by stars. The Pleiades, which has been one of my favorite constellations since long before I knew its name, was easily visible, just below and to the right of the moon.

A group of some of my favorite people was walking to a friend’s apartment for tea and cookies after the college Christmas concert. As wonderful as I knew it would be, I couldn’t stand the idea of going inside on such a beautiful night. I kept walking slower and slower, which led to a lively exchange with one of my friends who was freezing cold and in a hurry to get inside.

Finally I stopped and flopped down on my back on one of the big lawns on campus. I knew where we were going and could easily catch up to the others, but first I just needed to lie there and stare at the moon for a few minutes. Most of the group kept going, used to my sometimes eccentric ways, but two of my friends who are as crazy and held by beauty as I am flopped down on the grass with me. We talked a bit, but mostly, we just enjoyed the rare moment of peace. When we were ready, we got up and went inside to drink hot things and enjoy cookies like sane people.

It was one of the best moments of the semester.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

All too often last semester, I was too hurried and harried to stop and be filled with wonder at the glory of the world and people around me. I would glance at it and note its presence, but not stop and pay full attention. The best days were the ones when I did stop to truly see and soak up the beauty of the natural world, or the quirky character trait of one of my friends, or the gift of a brief but meaningful conversation, or a funny comic that my brother sent me. The best days were the ones with moments when I was captivated by wonder to the extent that I would grab anyone in sight so they would get to experience it too.

E.B. White said to "always be on the lookout for the presence of wonder."

Join me?