Recently I attended a meeting of a
not-church. I call it a not-church anyway. It's a meeting for
people who are “guided by the life and teachings of Jesus” and
who meet “in the presence of a God whose love is freedom, whose
touch is healing, whose voice is calm.”
The people at the meeting are good
people, seeking their God and I find it less difficult than most
meetings. It's still hard though because every word in the little
bit of the liturgy prepared for each meeting is phrased with theism
in mind. It's a language that takes theism as a presupposition of a
shared belief in an interventionist deity. I don't believe in that
deity. I'm not sure that everyone there believes in the deity
either. But the language, like the language of a church, is
theistic.
It's not exclusive though and it's not
evangelistic so usually I've been able to cope with it and just miss
out what I couldn't say at all and translate the rest into my own
meaning. That day I couldn't participate at all. Just as the
meeting began my brain decided it had had enough of things and I
spent the whole time wanting to walk out and sit in the sunshine.
Perhaps that's what I should have done. Afterwards I left very
quickly and couldn't speak even when grabbed for conversations,
including one with a person who offered to buy me a ticket for an
event in October.
The subject of the not-church this
month was kindness. As always, the liturgy includes some quotations
about the subject and after they are read there is an open group
discussion – something that I can't participate in at all vocally
because I can't deal with group discussions. My head just doesn't
know the rules and can't process everything quickly enough. By the
time it has something worthwhile to say the topic has moved on and
even if I have something to say at what might be the right time I
don't know how to break into the group and say it. Never mind.
That's just how things are and they're not likely to change. The
diagnostic criteria for autism still mention a triad of impairments.
My inability in group situations is part of one of those impairments.
It truly isn't my favourite part of my autism and it's one in which
this so-called very high functioning autistic person is pretty
severely impaired.
One of the quotations struck me:
A part of kindness consists in
loving people more than they deserve.
Joseph Joubert
Joubert
was a French moralist who died nearly 200 years ago. His Pensees
were published after his death. I haven't read them – I hadn't
heard of Joubert at all. Then again I never managed to finish the
Pensees of Blaise Pascal either. I guess I will probably never read
Joubert. But I guessed I would never read a lot of things that I
have since read.
One of
the members of the not-church discussion really liked that Joubert
quotation. She talked about it. I wasn't able to speak and was
rapidly sinking into a state in which it's quite difficult to even
get myself home. If I had been able to speak I might have talked
about this quotation too. Because I didn't like it. I still don't
like it.
Joubert
says “loving people more than they deserve.”
I take
issue with that and ask a question:
How
much love does a person deserve?
I
believe that every single person on this planet deserves more love
than they give themselves. They deserve more love than other people
give them.
Basically,
whatever is happening, whatever the situation, whatever a person has
or hasn't done, a person deserves more love not less.
However
they feel, however they dress. Whatever their gender or sexuality or
race or height. Whether they are disabled or not disabled. Whatever
their politics. Whatever their religion. They deserve more love not
less.
Even
if they treat us badly or treat others badly they deserve more love
not less.
And
for ourselves. We deserve more love not less. Always and at every
moment.
My
belief is not an original idea. I've inherited from others, most
especially from a spiritual teacher who has been known to use “more
love not less” as a kind of mantra and as part of a liturgy. It's
pretty powerful to look at a person we don't like and tell ourselves
that they deserve more love not less. It's even more powerful to
look at ourselves when we unfairly criticise ourselves and say “I
deserve more love, not less.”
More
love, not less. In fact I would say that we deserve total love. All
of us. Total love. Constantly.
Joubert
said “loving people more than they deserve” and I sit here typing
about it two hundred years later. And I type this: Joubert's
thought was nonsensical.
You
cannot love any person more than they deserve.
You
just can't. It's impossible.
What
we need to aim to do is to love each person as much as they deserve.
Total love. Always. If anyone lived according to that aim it was
Jesus, a teacher of the way of love.
Unpacking
that is hard. It raises many questions of how
to love people as much as they deserve. It raises questions for what
to do when we fail to love people that much. It raises questions of
how best to love ourselves, and how to keep loving ourselves when we
fall short of the aim of a life of total love. I am not even going
to begin to attempt grappling with those questions in this post.
I
think Joubert is not to blame for getting it wrong. He was living in
a society with a Christian based morality. Even those Frenchmen who
killed priests in various revolutions were really only removing a
Christian establishment and morality and replacing it with what,
beyond story, was just another Christian establishment and morality.
The
Catholics of Joubert's day believed in original sin. They believed
that God loved them but that loving them was in itself an act of
mercy because they didn't really deserve the love of God, let alone
to have God as a friend. The Church taught that each person deserves
to go to Hell and suffer for eternity, separated from God in fire and
torment and damnation. That's what humans deserve. Anything about
that is mercy. It's true that the mercy story was rich – the
loving, merciful God finding a “just” way to rescue the fallen,
sinful humans from hell if they followed him and his son. But it's
also true that the Church had a very negative view of human beings.
Gee, thanks Augustine for developing that doctrine so well.
Every
now and again you might have heard that we're all fearfully and
wonderfully made or heard about the dignity of human beings. But the
Catholic liturgy was based on the idea that we need to repent – and
that one sin of the wrong type leads to Hell without that repentance
and reliance on mercy. The Protestants of the day weren't much
better and sometimes were much worse. Thanks Calvin, for outdoing
Augustine – the very first point Calvinism makes is that every
single one of us is totally depraved. It's not a good starting point
for developing a healthy, loving view of the human race.
I
confess that I used to go along with all this. Original sin. The
fallen nature of human beings thanks to Adam and Eve eating some
fruit. There was a time I even believed in the literal truth of that
story, that there really were two people wandering around a pretty
garden being tempted by a wily serpent. I believed that we were
fully reliant on God for salvation, hope and anything that might be
nice. I believed in a literal Hell once. And in literal human souls
burning for eternity. I believed that the Bible taught it so it must
be true. The preachers in my churches taught it too, straight from
Scripture and you wouldn't want to go against what God wrote in his
book, would you? Yeah, I believed people were fundamentally sinful.
I believed I was fundamentally very sinful. I was a worm – as
Scripture puts it. I was a wretch – as John Newton said in the
hymn “Amazing Grace.”
I
don't believe any of that now. It's been a long journey to get from
there to where I am now, which is a much more free place. And I
don't like that hymn any more because I am not a wretch. I was not a
wretch. I just believed in my own wretchedness and acted
accordingly.
Now I
believe that humans are fundamentally good. It's a statement of
faith. It would be easy to look at newspaper headlines and see the
suffering we inflict on each other and to despair, to see the obvious
faults – and let's face it, the way humans act is sometimes
particularly awful and the way I act falls short of the way of love.
But we're fundamentally good. And we're fundamentally deserving of
more love not less. Yes, even those of us we see as monsters. To
prove Godwin's law because it's fun to prove Godwin's law: Even
Hitler!
Human
beings deserve total love.
So. A
rewrite of Joubert's thought is in order, removing all the
nonsensical stuff about deserving or not deserving love.
“A
part of kindness consists in loving people.”
But
hey, that's not right either.
It's
backwards.
I want
to rewrite it again:
“A
part of loving people is showing kindness.”
Yeah,
that's better.
Love
people. And in that love, show kindness.
Here
endeth the lesson!
Those
final words could have come from Jesus who said to “love one
another.” He didn't say anything about deserve did he? Just “love
one another.”
Sometimes
it's good to be like the people at not-church. And as an
ex-Christian I can say this too: Sometimes it's good to be “guided
by the life and teachings of Jesus.”
[1694 words and a clickbait style title!]
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