Disagreements in a Civil Society

I don’t want to write this, because to do so will force me to wrestle some with the tragic reality of our current political climate. I really don’t want to post this, because history has taught me to expect that many people will respond with aggressive disagreements.

I’m gonna post it anyway, though, because I believe that one of the most important things we’ve lost in our public political dialogue is the expectation that it’s appropriate and healthy to disagree in a civil manner.

With that, here are my thoughts in reaction to the murder of Mr. Charlie Kirk.

It seems that this deplorable act of violence was probably a political act (though at the time of this writing, that assumption has not been verified). Even though our nation has a history of dealing with it, politically motivated violence is unnecessary and detrimental to the health and longevity of our society.

But violence is easy, especially when we don’t see the ‘other’ as being fully human. Military leaders have known for generations that it’s easier to convince soldiers to kill each other when the other side has been demonized – when one side becomes convinced that the other side is less than human.

Any time we make assumptions about another person based on their political opinions, we ignore the other person’s humanity (and we scrape away at our own humanity as well).

Is this where we are as a nation? It seems to me that folks with liberal political opinions demonize conservatives, and see them as less than human. It seems to me that folks with conservative political opinions demonize liberals, and see them as less than human.

In our society, it should always be acceptable to disagree. The free exchange of ideas should always be encouraged and celebrated.

But this is not what’s happening these days. Instead of encouraging political disagreements, conversation, and discussion, we’re jumping to conclusions about anyone who doesn’t agree with us – about all of their political opinions, about their motivations, and about their humanity.

We have to change how we operate. If we don’t make societal changes, we either won’t have a nation, or it won’t be worth living in.

It is absolutely unacceptable that Mr. Kirk was killed. He was a beloved child of G-d, and his life was valuable. The theological and political opinions he promoted are hateful, and should be ignored and argued against. But he absolutely should not have been assassinated.

We have a choice as a society. Either we decide to stop the violence that has woven its way through our political and social life, and then begin to behave and believe and act like we belong together ... or we continue to vilify one another, we continue to believe the worst about a whole category of people with whom we have political disagreements, and we continue to kill each other.

Nothing good comes from the latter choice, so I choose the former. In order to do what I can to work to bring about choosing to stop the vitriol and violence, I commit to at least the following:

• I will remember that those who disagree with me on political issues are beloved children of G-d;
• I will debate ideas, and will not attack the person who promotes those ideas;
• I will not vilify, denigrate, or disparage individuals or groups, especially those with whom I disagree;
• I will not make sweeping generalizations about those with whom I have political disagreements;
• I will point out and work to correct any hateful speech to which I am exposed;
• I will work to correct any comment which lumps a whole group (liberals, conservatives, etc.) together, especially when those comments are not obviously applicable to the whole group.

There’s no way that I, as one singular person, can change a whole society. But if there are enough of us who commit to making positive changes, then perhaps there’s a chance that we can reclaim a healthy and vibrant civil society.

$0.02

I Walked A Lot Yesterday

Me, struggling through
a beautiful landscape

I walked a lot more yesterday than I do on a normal and regular day. Interestingly, most of the walking I did yesterday was while pushing a bicycle.

See, what happened was that The Rift (the gravel bike ride I signed up for months ago) was yesterday. On the one hand, I didn’t train nearly enough for a ride of this length. And also, this ride beat me up quite a bit more than I expected it would. Some of the reason was simply that I was moving through this course for 12 hours; some of the reason was that the terrain was considerably more difficult, and more consistently difficult, than I anticipated. 

Everyone had the option to choose between the 200k course or the 140k course. I registered for the longer course, and expected that if I could make it to the first rest station before the cut-off time, that would indicate that I could probably finish the whole course. However, thankfully, I didn’t make it in time.

When I rolled in to the check point late, the course bouncer walked up to my bike with a knife before I’d had a chance to stop, and literally cut my race number off my bike. I got cut off. And then he gave me the option to either turn around and backtrack the 50k to the start, or to keep going but ride the 140k instead. I was really tempted to turn around and take the shortest route back to where I could rest. And I’m really glad to have finished the shorter course. I’m also glad for my new friend Lavan, who suggested when I got cut off that we ride together for the last 90k (and who took the above photo of me walking my bike up a hill).

The Icelanders have a sense of humor,
which can be poignant and timely 

There was a moment, when I was riding alone and before the cut off checkpoint, where I really wasn’t having any fun at all, and was ready to just throw in the towel. I was struggling physically, and I knew that there was a lot more physical struggle to come … and those things added to the mental struggle.

I’m really glad to have finished the 140k course, but I have to admit that I wasn’t actually glad to still be out on the course 100% of the time I was out there riding – and especially not when I was walking. I’m really glad to have finished the 140k course, because I was able to prove to myself that I’m still at least somewhat capable.

I haven’t decided that I want to do The Rift again. Also, I haven’t decided that I don’t want to.

It's Gonna Be Ugly, and it's Gonna Be Beautiful

 I signed up for it all on my own. I signed up, all on my own, to ride my bike farther in one day than I've ever ridden before. And the ride I signed up for is on gravel. 

First Post-Accident Gravel Ride

Before, long ago, I didn't think twice about signing up for a long bike ride. Before, long ago, I rode my bike a lot more than I do now, and I was in significantly better physical shape then compared to now. So I could sign up for a long ride, and then just go and do it. But I haven't gotten my cardio fitness back. And while I was never really all that strong - since the accident, I certainly haven't been able to regain especially my leg strength. 

I'm worried that I won't be successful in completing this ride in a couple days. If I am able to finish, it's gonna be a struggle. 

The ride is in Iceland. It goes up into the highlands lava fields, to the general area where earth is separating from earth and magma bubbles up becoming lava, then cooling to become rock. The scenery on this ride promises to be surreal and amazing. 

So it seems like I'll get to suffer in the midst of a wondrous landscape. I have a feeling it's gonna be ugly. And it's gonna be beautiful. 

Betrayed

When the snow is good, and the slope isn't too steep, I can kinda keep up. 

I went skiing last week. I was at a theological conference where we study early in the morning, we study later in the evening, we pray together morning and night, and we have free time during the day. This conference happens near a ski area, so many of us spend our free time on the slopes. 

I had gone to this conference, and skied with some of the regular attendees, before I broke my back and injured my spinal cord six years ago. The vertebrae have healed. The spinal cord injury, though, is something I’ll be affected by for the rest of my life. My muscles don’t work the way they’re supposed to. 

All things considered, my spinal cord injury is relatively mild. I can walk without crutches or a cane. I can ride the bikes I was riding before the injury. I can ski on the same gear I was using when I was injured. But I don’t ski as well now as I used to be able to do. 

Beautiful snow conditions

When I ski on powder or on snow that isn’t entirely packed down, I have more control over my skis. I can turn where I want, and I can ski a little faster because that right ski tracks where I want it to go and I feel like I’m in control. In those conditions, I am in control. I can kinda keep up.

By contrast, when I ski on snow that’s packed and rutted by other skiers or that’s icy, I have no problem turning right. I feel secure, confident, and in control. But when I turn left in those same conditions, my right ski and boot and foot and leg and butt chatter around, and I feel like I’m not in control. I’m not in control. So I ski really slowly on those slopes. 

Before the injury, I was a decent skier. I wasn’t super fast, and I wasn’t great on the most challenging slopes. But I could mostly keep up, and I almost always felt like I could control my body; I felt like I could make my muscles do what I asked them to do. 

Now, by contrast, I feel betrayed by my body. And it’s not just on the ski slope. Church pews, icy sidewalks, flights of stairs, automobiles, and curbs are a few of the obstacles I encountered over the past week when I wasn’t able to make my muscles do what they were supposed to do. 

The thing is, my injury isn’t a humungous problem. I feel a little embarrassed writing this post, because I worry that some of my seven readers will think I’m complaining about something that isn’t noticeable, and so isn’t actually an issue. 

But I notice. My movement is hindered. My confidence is limited. I feel betrayed by my own body.