When I was a kid I loved the game Monopoly (especially when I was winning). I would play with my cousins Patsy and Tommy and my brother Bobby. We would spend hours on the game. When I was winning I delighted in buying up hotels on Boardwalk and watching the agony of my competition upon landing on the property. It was really quite a heady experience. Of course this was all a game and no one was really hurt—no matter what, we had fun.
It
always amazes me the warmth and kindness of the American people on a
person-to-person basis. Today my friends and I attended church and
without exception we were treated with the utmost kindness and even
joy. After church we went to McDonald’s for breakfast and ran into
people considerate beyond belief. A joyful customer standing in line
greeted and conversed with us warmly. Following placing our food
order at the counter, we retreated with literally our backs against
the wall waiting for our serving number to be called. Even in this
position people arriving at the restaurant would ask us “are you in
line” to be absolutely certain that they were not butting in ahead
of us. On a personal level no one can be more kind and loving than
Americans. I see this every day at work. There is no question as to
the religion or politics of anyone I meet and greet. It simply
doesn’t matter; respect and kindness always come first.
Now
take away this person-to-person intimacy and profound changes can
result. For example, I can get “in the game” of maneuvering my
car through street traffic. I exultantly cut someone off. It is
embarrassing beyond mention if “that someone” pulls up beside me
at the next light and I see looking at me a face I know from church
or work. I feel caught red-handed at cruelty.
This
morning there was a story in the paper about a current investment
game. Apparently much “smart money” now is flowing into real
estate. The side effect of this is that 2 out of every 3 homes are
bought not by someone who wants to live in the home, but rather is
acquired solely for investment to sell later at a significant profit.
Many would-be home buyers who want and need a home are thus locked
out of buying a house. Those caught up in the excitement of the investment game and
the lure of easy money are safely distanced from any intimacy with
those they are hurting.
This
“distancing” is at the heart of many of the ills many now suffer.
Today Deangelo, Alyssia, and I visited the Florida Holocaust Museum.
There I asked a docent what essential lesson we should learn from
the Holocaust. His answer was not to be complacent in the face of
bullying; not to demonize; and to show tolerance. (Tolerance is a
one word summery that he so much wanted to convey that he found me
later on the second floor just to convey it). I further will
amplify his response thusly: Demonization; Dehumanization;
Detachment; Self-absorption. That is, we make a person or group
acceptable to harm by finding them evil or less than human. This
involves detachment. We find ourselves disengaged from reality such
that tolerance becomes perverted to “I don’t give a damn” as
cruelty is underway. Finally, we become self-absorbed and
inconsiderate of others.
As
dreadfully cruel as the Nazis were, it is important to remember (as
Jesus frequently pointed out) we are all subject to sinfully evil
thoughts at one time or another, and, though not acted out in such
dramatic fashion, they can end up coloring our lives and our
treatment of others.
How
can meanness deriving from detachment be structurally dealt with?
Certainly, a strong democracy is one way; for the injured party has a
place at the table whether we like it or not. Thus, if we are
greatly inured to a laissez-faire status quo, we will often complain
about big government or government regulation since a democratic
government means that we must hear voices and trim cruelties we had
rather not.
I
am optimistic that much of America’s meanness (now significantly
the result of detachment) will be alleviated once detachment and
self-absorption are made less possible. At the Holocaust Museum are
wood carvings of children who were victims of Nazi death camps.
Surrounding the head of each child is a yellow hallo. I wish that we
could come to see an aura around everyone we meet or greet either
directly or through imaginative visualization. We would be greatly
blessed if we could see each member of the human family as holy and
unique—each with a sanctuary of conscience answerable to God.
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