We Must Resist Today's Stampeding Selfishness

There is a lurid kind of selfishness among us today. It struts itself in religious language and patriotic mumblings. It looks out on the world and our nation and sees only forces out to take away one’s security, one’s freedom, one’s money.

This selfishness never sees the needs of people, the scarring hurts, the struggle to be human, the longing to have self respect and to be loved. It knows no empathy, only resentment bathed in bitterness. It convinces us that people on the fringes of survival are losers, void of ambition and initiative, wasters of resources we want for ourselves.

This selfishness scorns the provisions of government agencies that exist to assist single moms stuck in the debris of betrayal and abandonment. It dismisses the limits of the disabled who are seen by this selfishness as cripples useless to us and to our economy, beggars looking for a handout. It disregards the elderly in their tiny homes with leaky roofs and thin walls that can’t hold back the cold or the heat, crumbling from later years of neglect because there was not the money there for repairs.

This selfishness sneers at federal programs like Head Start and never sees the children that are helped and nurtured and sometimes saved by skilled workers who prepare toddlers from low income families to be school ready and discover they do count in this big society.

This selfishness makes judges of us, holding court over women needing an abortion, assuming that we know better than anyone what is moral and right, even if we have never ourselves been in a situation that is fraught with complexity and confusion and hopelessness and requires thought and risk and both emotional and physical pain.

This selfishness drives us into fear-bound prejudices and mean-spirited responses and even at times into hate and violence against those we don’t like and don’t understand and don’t want here. It separates people into groups. It isolates and alienates and looks down on and creates within us cold resentment towards people different from us in race, in religious beliefs, in cultural traditions, in family background, in sexual orientation, in social status, and in one’s standard of living.

Selfishness has always been with us. History is crammed with the sad accounts of selfishness’s wreckage to individuals, to families, to institutions, to communities and to states and nations. And still we have not learned its lesson of detestable conduct and consequences. We all continue to succumb to its damaging influences.

Today, it stampedes through our nation with brutal callousness and we tolerate its presence everywhere, in the halls of Congress, in our places of worship, in city police departments, in military planning, even within our own selves.

We need so much to resist the selfish spirit that currently dominates our society. We need to allow our minds to take us further into the mysteries of the human being so we don’t shut anyone out. We need to expand our hearts so we are not just operating on the fuel of anger and acrimony which are destructive emotions, but rather are responding out of compassion and thoughtfulness, giving back to society beauty and caring and the willingness to cooperate and get along.

We need to be glad to be alive in this time with so much to do and experience that is good and not be ceaselessly embroiled in the nastiness and greed and abuse that selfishness motivates.

There is that great line from the Persian poet, Rumi: “Be like melting snow; wash yourself of yourself.”

Our future as a people, as a nation, may very well depend on that act of humility.

We are Made for Human Connection

There are words from Brandi Carlile’s song, “The Story,” that I might sing, and perhaps you, too. “All of these lines across my face Tell you the story of who I am So many stories of where I've been And how I got to where I am But these stories don't mean anything When you've got no one to tell them to” You don’t have to be single or alone to feel the depth of those words. Someone in a longtime marriage or relationship might feel them, too. The voyage through life takes each one of us through an assortment of experiences. Some of them ennoble us. Some crush us. Some lift us beyond ourselves and carry us into the lives of those who need us. And some carry us to those we need. Some experiences are burdens. Others ease and encourage us. Some leave us baffled and unsure. Some build confidence within us and are so affirming that we grow in substance, in courage, in tenderness, and sympathy. As we age, the lines in our faces can represent the hurts we have not yet resolved. Or t

If I had five minutes to evacuate--what would I take with me?

If I was told there was a bomb in my building and I had five minutes to evacuate my apartment I’d grab a grocery bag and quickly toss these items into it: 1. A photo of my grandparents, Mom and Pop and me, when I was 15 years old. I learned what love is made of from them. I learned what it is to be kissed on and hugged in arms so tender they felt like God’s arms. I discovered self worth from those two angels in human flesh. Of all the people in my life, they were the ones who made me feel I counted. Honestly, whatever capacity I have to love others came from them. 2. A sentimental, dog-eared, stars in the margin copy of Pat Conroy’s, “The Prince of Tides.” It is a book I have read three times and often return to for its wisdom. It is a harsh, profoundly tragic novel, the story of a family so broken and tortured by such flawed and wounded people that it is sometimes difficult to turn the next page. And yet it is the story of such Herculean courage and endurance that you want

Remembering Dr. Bill Craig

In Memoriam Dr. Bill Craig January 1, 2020 In the Hebrew Bible, we see from the life of Moses, and the Psalmist, Isaiah and others , concern for the problem of living rather than the problem of dying. Their primary interest was not how to escape death, but rather, how to sanctify life. Bill modeled that kind of wisdom. The brilliant novelist Louis L'Amour, who wrote bestselling books about the American West, what he called “frontier stories,” basically said the same thing. He wrote, “The trail is the thing, not the end of the trail.” No one attempted to sanctify life and get more out of the trail than Bill Craig. He was a deep thinker, a gifted veterinarian, a rugged and unbreakable man with the kindest heart and the purest motives. He was a loving and devoted husband, father, and grandfather. Karen, Shalor and Melissa, Kellan, Nolan and Carter, were his world. They meant everything to him. I guess he had faults, but I don’t remember any of them. There was o

The Unclad Soul

Search This Blog