Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Changing George Bush (or Me)

I believe that the difficulty of change is well established. At least change for the good demands considerable effort and very often seems impossible and out of reach. Multitudes of supporting examples come to mind, but suffice the historical and present-day conflict in the Middle East as instance enough.

It is certainly not a novel thought to say that change begins on a personal level and, for better or worse, often ends there. I say "for better" because growth on the personal level is often challenging enough for a lifetime and quite an honorable pursuit. I say "for worse" because the most influential saints lived such a personally changed life that the only possible outcome was change on a societal level.

A person who practices change on a personal level as the beginning of every other desired change is quite easily distinguished by their characteristic mental peace.

However, when the blame chain is engaged, people tend toward many levels of emotional turmoil, frustration and irrational anger. For instance, it is a revealing exercise to listen to how often our visible politicians are blamed for the pain we see in the world around us. Frustrated by George Bush's need for change, we tend to see the only viable response as angered and frustrated complaint.

Yet for all of the times that we suggest that George Bush should change, do we perchance to look at our own lives and suggest that the external problems in the world have internal roots within?

A classic story of G.K. Chesterton speaks well of one who realized this need. Chesterton was once asked by a reporter for the Times to respond to the question, “What is wrong with the world?” His short reply of “I am. Sincerely, G.K. Chesterton” prompts a deeper consideration of the reality of evil at work in the world.

Dostoevsky suggests a good remedy to this grave tendency to pass off the need to change to everyone but ourselves. In The Brothers Karamazov he writes:

No one can judge a criminal, until he recognizes that he is just such a criminal as the man standing before him, and that he perhaps is more than all men to blame for that crime. When he understands that, he will be able to be a judge. Though that sounds absurd, it is true. If I had been righteous myself, perhaps there would have been no criminal standing before me. If you can take upon yourself the crime of the criminal your heart is judging, take it at once, suffer for him yourself, and let him go without reproach. And even if the law itself makes you his judge, act in the same spirit as far as possible, for he will go away and condemn himself more bitterly than you have done.

Let not the sin of men confound you in your doings. Fear not that it will wear away your work and hinder its being accomplished. Do not say: “Sin is mighty, wickedness is mighty, evil environment is mighty, and we are lonely and helpless. Evil environment is wearing us away and hindering our good work from being done.” Fly from that dejection! There is only one means of salvation. Make yourself responsible for all men’s sins. As soon as you sincerely make yourself responsible for everything and for all men, you will see at once that you have found salvation. On the other hand, by throwing your indolence and impotence on others you will end by sharing the pride of Satan and murmuring against GodI believe that the difficulty of change is well established. At least change for the good demands considerable effort and very often seems impossible and out of reach. Multitudes of supporting examples come to mind, but suffice the historical and present-day conflict in the Middle East as instance enough.