Grace Towards Others, and What It Means Today
Can we still live with our differences?
There were times when the word “angry” would be an understatement of the feelings I had towards others on social issues. To this day, I continue to wrestle with milder moments of such resentment. I’ve always prided myself on welcoming other viewpoints, avoiding insults or cursing under any circumstance and being gracious towards people when others would not. I have my upbringing and other experiences in my younger years to thank for that. Yet I have most definitely had bitter feelings towards those who, in these identity-focused times, look at me a certain way. How does one hold onto their compassion towards strangers, friends and even family who harbor beliefs that seem so wrong and so demeaning? How does one extend grace in such circumstances?
As a white, male, cisgender and straight person, I am the pinnacle of privilege in the eyes of many who subscribe to the “woke” worldview. By extension, I am also the worst kind of oppressor that can exist in American society. Ten years ago, I would’ve found it hard to imagine that today we’d be giving serious thought to concepts like race-based equity, even though that concept has, unfortunately, been quietly in practice for decades. I would’ve assumed that those who fight for the marginalized would know better than to marginalize the “oppressors” who supposedly are responsible. But that’s exactly what has happened; too many of those who call themselves “anti-racists” have openly supported, professed and practiced discrimination against the groups that they deem privileged. In doing so, they have unwittingly also discriminated against the very groups that they’re trying to help. They have gone so far as to twist the meanings of neutral words to help justify their methods. Racism, for example, instead of being something of which all people are capable, is a sin that only white people can perpetrate.
Now, one might read that and say “Well, you’ve still had it far better than millions of other people.” In some ways, yes I have. But it’s also fair to say that I’ve had it worse than most other people. I may not have experienced grinding poverty (yet), and I may not have been discriminated against in applying for a job — although it’s hard to ever be totally sure about that kind of thing. But I have experienced severe, long-term health problems that arguably have held me back from achieving my fullest potential in life, which is as much as I’m willing to disclose on a public platform like this one.
One reason I have always admired Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., despite having a more nuanced view of him today, is his penchant for grace. There was a myriad of reasons that he and many other blacks in his time could have held back from extending a hand to whites. There were numerous factors — from outright hatred to mere apathy by whites — that could’ve convinced him to despise all white people and made him want nothing to do with them. That is what makes the message of unity in his immortal “I Have a Dream” speech so impactful. That is why people who count themselves “woke” are wrong to call out whites and “non-woke” people for praising him.
Yet for all I’ve learned about the value of graciousness, I’ve recently found myself more and more drawn to the urge to shut people out. My subconscious intuition tells me, “Why should you reward this or that person with any of your time when they believe this or that?” Meanwhile, I’ve been on the receiving end of that same thought process a number of times, when quite arguably I didn’t deserve it.
The line between a toxic person and a person who’s merely misguided can be rather blurry. How do we find that line? Sadly, there’s no simple answer to this question. Indeed, the manner in which people distinguish between the two varies massively. Sometimes, it’s the person pushing someone else out of their life who’s the toxic one.
When Jesus conducted his ministry in Israel, he had a certain idea of where the line is set. He did indeed teach that one should love their enemies and pray for those who persecute them. But what’s less thought of is his teaching to avoid giving pearls to swine, and his instruction to his disciples to “shake the dust off (their) feet” — a biblical equivalent of washing one’s hands of someone — from whichever places would not welcome them.
All of the world’s major religions have a concept of graciousness. Dr. Muhammad Haniff Hassan, a scholar in Islamic studies, writes an intriguing view of the concept from the standpoint of Islam. In the following linked article, he details how the virtue of forgiveness in the Qu’ran, while being a precious moral value worthy of reward, is not to be seen as an expectation. This contrasts with the verse from the book of Matthew which states, “For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.” Perhaps it is this forgoing of obligation in Islam that makes forgiveness all the more gracious and meaningful.* In another article, the late Buddhist scholar Alfred Bloom speaks of grace in Buddhism being something that “arises from… unconditional compassion… and embraces without exception those from the most spiritually advanced to those desperately evil.”
Inarguably, no civilized nation in the world could exist without the ability of humans to be gracious towards each other. Without that ability, a Republican and a Democrat could never be friends, though thankfully such graciousness is practiced every day by millions in the USA, as elsewhere. That is why, in spite of these turbulent times when there’s increasing support for splitting the country, we must strive to live with our differences. Perhaps the best way to do so is to keep in mind how it benefits ourselves in the end. To be sure, Dr. King’s statement regarding capital punishment rings true in any situation where retribution or disregard seem the most convincing solutions:
Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.
*To be clear, I’m not trying to say that Islam is superior to Christianity, or vice versa. I’m simply highlighting the idea that the lack of obligation to forgive could make it more genuine. I do think also that there’s good reason that people would expect their neighbors to forgive those who have wronged them; namely, forgiveness is an indication of one’s overall character, and shows their ability to let conflict die.