Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Define Tolerance...



No we’re not talking about your alcohol tolerance though I know you’re proud of it.

Let’s start off with some axioms: First I think we can all agree that each person reading this wants to think of themselves as a good person. Also since most everyone who knows about this blog is Episcopalian, I think a good assumption is that our definition of good is largely based off of the concept and our understanding of tolerance. Sound good? If it doesn’t (and if you are a member of the assumed Episcopal audience), then consider for a second these questions: What persons or groups really piss you off on a regular basis? What contemporary political issues sustain a major faction whose ideas or beliefs are frustrating and archaic? If answers like “the Westboro Baptist Church”, “Tea Party”, or “gay marriage/rights” came to mind, then I’d ask you to quickly consider the idea that perhaps the most legitimately frustrating thing about these groups is that they refuse to recognize the civil rights or civil liberties of other specific groups of people (i.e. they’re intolerant). Growing up in the Episcopal Church personally shaped me to believe that tolerance was the single most important personal and political virtue, and as I continue to grow in the church I can see that people who find their way into our church as adults are often most enamored with the tolerance found in every aspect of our church life. In fact the most powerful thesis preached in our pulpits, of any I have understood, is that tolerance and acceptance are the example in Christ’s ministry, and that they are logical consequences proceeding from any coherent idea of love. 

Continuing with the idea that tolerance is essential to goodness (and with the super basic axiom that the majority of people, especially those of you affiliated with a church, need to feel like a good person just to stay sane), my question is: how do you define tolerance? How do you understand it?

[Obviously I can’t really get your answers before continuing on with my thoughts, so I’m going to pretend like that wasn’t a purely rhetorical question and collect answers some other time.]

Let’s put some weight behind the question. How do you tolerate people? And who don’t you tolerate? This is just a basic consistency check. I for example don’t like drunk bros trashing up my lawn, nor do I suffer fools (at least I don’t play well with the intentionally ignorant). The latter is especially dangerous, because I can easily get frustrated with proud rednecks, or the 50-some% of my high school that can’t pass the standard graduation test even on their third try. For a long time this lack of tolerance for them was fine because my understanding of tolerance said that it was important to accept the differences in individuals that they had no control over. This is still my understanding, but implicit in my understanding then was that “no control” only applied to things like race, sexuality, maybe a bit of difference in culture. Now I wonder if that’s the case. I had no choice in where I was born, and though I couldn’t have been born to any other parents or in any other situation, it is simply luck that my parents are loving and supportive, that I knew from the time I was in elementary school that I could go to college, and that my parents are well educated and kept my mind churning at any cost. I had no control over any of that. I often wonder if I even had control over who my friends were; I certainly didn’t go out of my way for them, and the group of friends I kept changed as I did—they simply fell into place. I’m not espousing any idea of fate. I’m simply pointing out that I never consciously chose any of the influences that pushed me into a good university, or any of the experiences that got me to the point where I could actually choose to spend all of my time thinking and learning. If that’s the case then I can’t assume that anyone has actually chosen to be ignorant, so my definition of "no control" extends even to people who seem to have control over who they are. It even seems that this definition requires tolerance of the intolerant. 

This is the first point that tolerance gets tricky, at least for me. Not only are these the most annoying of all the enemies I have to love (since the majority of them are using the same religion to justify intolerance and brushing over any commands to love your enemies/neighbors, or welcome outcasts, saying that they don’t apply to certain outcasts), but I have also hit a theological dead end. Because I prize tolerance of belief I can’t go evangelize to people with any other belief, even people who just have no belief, so the only part of my faith that I could share was tolerance. It was in fact the only belief that I cared enough to argue for, but now I can’t even share how much I value tolerance because I value it too much. I’ve philosophically immobilized myself, which of course means that now my religion (which does say that I should share the good news of Christ) prevents me from talking to anyone about it.

I know that other Episcopalians have trouble talking about their faith; it almost seems to be an Episcopal trait, but I'd like to know if anyone has over-analyzed themselves to the point where they could identify a similar cause.

Let’s really up the ante this time by going back to the definition of tolerance. In my definition above I used the word “accept”, which, honestly, I can’t distinguish from “tolerate” (except that tolerate carries the connotation that I never really have to be okay with the other person’s differences), so to improve that definition I’ll expand “accept” into two possibilities: (1) “hold back any anger or disdain for the differences among individuals”, and (2) “understand and appreciate or value the differences…”. If the contrast isn’t obvious, then I’d point out that a change in definitions would require a huge change in thought, if not also in action. Expansion (1) articulates the connotation of tolerate, and it lets me hold onto my distaste for those people who have thoughts and opinions that are contrary to mine, I just have to keep it sequestered [If you don’t have something nice to say, shut up]. Expansion (2) requires much more of me, and in fact, it pushes me in the opposite direction of (1), because to understand other views to the point where I can value them, requires that I talk to the people that I really want to scream at, and that I really care about their answers no matter how those answers make me cringe or shudder. Notably, there’s a way here to escape the dead end, because I have to talk to people about my beliefs at some point when I’m talking to them about theirs. But this enhanced definition is the other tricky part of tolerance, because again I have to tolerate the intolerant, however, this means that to live out my belief I have to value it’s exact opposite. Of course, this is more or less problematic depending on how you define value, but since we're talking about morality and Christianity I think it's fair to say that "value" can go all the way to "value as much as your own beliefs", at which point it seems like a contradiction that can’t be overcome.

Also attempting to value intolerance means that eventually I’ll have to face my own intolerance, which doesn’t bode well for my mental health since my sanity is largely contingent on the idea that I’m a tolerant person. For now I think it’s best to keep pretending.


Monday, May 13, 2013

A critique

You're not right.

Not for all your righteousness; not for the innocence nor simplicity; not even for the fact that this tumult I live in is cutting me down insubstantially, pulling out the carefully laid stitching holding ligament to bone, and with the tapping of tiny hammers seeding fissures that will, one day, be a snap.

I have lived in your paradise and wasted myself there. These credit card bills, these clocks (and their constant unheard march), these daily planners and To Do Lists are all confinement, but they are not manacles, nor corsets. These restraints aren't tyranny keeping you tethered and bound.

You're begging for freedom from this day to day, craving the little pieces of life—pieces that I dearly miss too, but the lazy days curled up with dog eared fiction and long cups of tea, don't appear when you have nothing else to do. The choice isn't between working and living, because those are the very same things.

That's why I am throwing myself at a system made to break me and discard the scraps. At the end of a year I have surely failed, but the things I've done while failing have caught up with fantasies that I could only dream before. For I have learned to paint the walls of my prison, and bend its bars into shapes that only I have seen.

There's freedom, and then there's freedom.

I may be locked away in a cell with shrinking walls, but the boundless person inside of me is stirring, and preparing slowly. Of course, it's only when I have no room to breathe, that my escape will be most miraculous.