We struggled with this social justice service. We knew we wanted to address the huge political divide in our country, and to challenge perceptions of right and wrong thinking, and to get members to question if our community is too much of an echo chamber. Our lofty goal was to bring the divided sides of the country together in harmony. In the end we decided it was probably a bit much for one service. So what you will end up hearing today is how important it is to struggle with difficult issues, and when it’s okay to walk away from that struggle.
Kate recently found a friend from decades ago on Facebook and sent out a friend request. Although the friend was glad to reconnect, Kate was shocked when the friend stated that she used Facebook to post items in favor of Donald Trump and a conservative agenda. Wow, what a shock! Kate’s reply was to say she was fine with reading about a conservative agenda, but couldn’t stomach Donald Trump and it was probably best not to be Facebook friends. She went on to share information about our kids and ourselves. This was probably a very smart move; neither she or the friend were likely to change each other’s minds, so staying off Facebook saved a lot of angst and energy. Yet they still managed a brief reconnect, and the friendship is intact.
It made us wonder, though, how this person we both knew and respected could now be espousing views so contrary to how we remembered her. Then I listened to a podcast about people who dive down the rabbit hole of conspiracy theories, and how it is really like an addictive disease. Our friend, an elderly single woman who changed jobs often and is now retired, likely lost a close community that supports her in healthy ways. The podcast explained that lacking a healthy community, hurting people often find their community in theories that blame others for their pain. Once they have found some comfort in being able to blame others, it is very difficult to get them to let go of conspiracy theories, no matter how crazy they are. Logic won’t do it, facts won’t do it, pointing out inconsistencies won’t do it, and all too often, even love and support won’t do it.
The podcast shared a story of a family torn apart by a father’s suicide. The mother struggled to get an education and job while bringing up two teenage daughters and a younger son, and she raised them as a loving, tolerant family. Years later the children became alarmed when the mother started posting conspiracy theories on social media. They tried reasoning with her, pointing out lovingly that she had raised them totally opposite to the views she was now posting. The mother became defensive and angry, nearly breaking off ties. The older daughters backed away, and while there isn’t much of a relationship anymore, they are at least cordial. The younger son, being closer to the mother because the daughters moved out shortly after the suicide, devoted even more time to his mother and devoted himself to rescuing her from what was basically a Qanon cult. In the end, everything he tried, from watching conspiracy videos with her to reminding her of the love she gave while raising him, failed, and they are now estranged. The lesson here, I believe, is the importance of a loving community, and staying connected. Lacking that, people will gravitate toward an accepting community that points the blame at others. It also points out the difficulty of hard conversations, that the outcome isn’t always what we intend, and that it can be extremely time consuming. Fortunately, the podcast had happier stories of people coming back into a loving community.
God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference
While I love the Serenity Prayer, I think it’s a bit simplistic. I certainly don’t want to waste my time trying to convince some Russian bot to change its mind, which would actually be impossible since it doesn’t have a mind, or even some die hard MAGA person that they’ve been brainwashed. Yet the courage to change the things I can seems a little vague. Is it courage I am lacking and need more of? Did the son, in my previous story, lack the wisdom to know he couldn’t bring his mother back from conspiracy theories? Should he have not tried? Difficult conversations are rarely easy or simple.
I joined this congregation because it seemed like the best fit on my spiritual journey, and at a time when I had rejected any organized religion. It’s mostly been a smooth ride; I am comfortable being surrounded by quite liberal people living good lives and supporting good causes, knowing we embrace diversity and are open to many things that other religions struggle with, such as helping those in need no matter their background, LGBTQ+ rights, or action on climate change. Yet I’ve also seen people leave because they were uncomfortable here – one who was deemed “too Christian” by others in the congregation, another who questioned vaccines. So, I’ve got to ask, are we just a feel-good echo chamber? Are we providing a community that is really accepting?
Mostly our congregation exists peacefully because when we do have meaningful conversations we’re not trying to change anything. I’m a humanist, and I’ve shared my beliefs at Circle Suppers, but I’m as comfortable listening to pagans or those believe in God as they are with me. We enjoy a meaningful conversation without making it difficult because we don’t have an agenda.
Yet I think our finest moments as a congregation have been when we have had to struggle. Do you remember when Shawna Foster told us we had to take action on our white supremacy? I was shocked at the time. Hey, we’re the most liberal, accepting church around, and you’re trying to tell us we are white supremacists? That was a difficult conversation to have, and I have to admit that initially I was on the wrong side. Probably she was a little strong in how she presented the topic, without walking us into the definition and how we have been influenced by our culture and upbringing to hold unknown beliefs and support unworthy norms. In the end we all learned to challenge some unconscious beliefs and can accept terms like white fragility and systemic racism. I don’t recall if we lost or gained members at the time, but it was an important, and difficult, conversation for us to have as a community.
Recently there have been difficult conversations between Cease Fire Now and the Aspen Jewish congregation, led by Aaron Brown. I was not a part of the conversations, but I applaud everyone involved for choosing to have them, because often it’s easier to stay in your echo chamber and not challenge your beliefs.
Very rarely are people going to change their perception when faced with new facts. Even scientists have a hard time accepting data when it goes against what they want to believe, and they have been trained to always accept the facts. Let me give you an example right now. A large body of research shows that people in religions with a creed are happier and healthier than atheists. So, are you going to abandon the creedless UUers? No, more likely you will equivocate and say something like “that’s because atheists don’t have a community, and TRUU provides that community”. My point, though, is facts almost never change minds or behaviors.
Often when we engage in difficult conversations we want to win. Winning almost always means the other person admitting defeat, and that’s becoming less and less common. Think of the last election, or even the last debate, which 37 percent of people think Trump won. Entering a difficult conversation and expecting to win probably isn’t a good idea.
Here’s the thing about difficult conversations: we usually go in with an agenda, and we usually have an expected or desired outcome, both of which are likely not to match those of the other party. I believe a truly good difficult conversation happens when we are trying to just gather information to better understand an issue or event. And then immediately the conversation becomes less difficult. It’s like talking about our spiritual journeys at Circle Suppers or Fellowship meetings – meaningful, but rarely difficult.
Another type of difficult conversation is one in which we are the focus. In this case, someone else usually wants to blame us for something or point out ways in which they think we need to change. It may be a spouse, an employer, a relative with a differing perspective, or, if we’re really lucky, a friend or casual acquaintance. I say we’re lucky if it’s a friend or acquaintance as they are less likely to be approaching a difficult conversation with a set agenda – more likely they are engaging out of concern. In these cases, our natural reaction is to be defensive and in denial. Whether the difficult conversation ends up being productive depends largely on three conditions: timing, tact and tone.
Obviously the worst time to have a difficult conversation is in the heat of the moment, when whatever crisis it is has hit the fan. Think: aggressive, defensive, angry, defiant. Sometimes just bringing up a topic will set off these traits, even if your tact and tone are good. In that case, say something like “I’d love to talk about this, but not now. Let’s both take some time to think about what we want to say.” The best time is when both parties have had time to reflect, settle emotions, and hopefully review both perspectives – depending on the issue it might be an hour, or a day, or a month.
Even if we’ve set up a successful difficult discussion at an appropriate time, if we don’t approach the conversation with tact we can blow it up right away. Consider these two statements:
“You’re always late and it’s got to stop. You’re impacting everyone else because you can’t get your act together.”
“I’ve noticed you’ve been late recently, and wonder if there’s anything going on that I can help you with. We always work best when we’re a team.
And then, even if we have mastered both timing and tact, we can blow it with tone. What if I had said, (read very sarcastically) “I’ve noticed you’ve been late recently, and wonder if there’s anything going on that I can help you with. We always work best when we’re a team.”
So it’s interesting. I’m basically going over some standard lessons on having successful conversations, which you could also hear at a business conference, but what it comes down to are spiritual practices: empathy, understanding, tolerance, forgiveness.
We often want to change things, but our ego or desire to win actually gets in the way. Change needs to come from within, whether it is us individually, or the other person or group. So don’t call people out, invite them in. Rather than spending time on social media arguing about facts and truth, ask questions and listen, and try to do it in person. There are five organizations you should know about if you are interested in bridging the divide, all of which work on bringing opposing sides together, and none of which are echo chambers. They are Braverangels.org, One Small Step through Storycorps.org, Resettingthetable.org, Startswith.us and Not in Our Town at niot.org. We encourage you to pick up a resource sheet on the table where you leave your name tags. All of these organizations are worthwhile and share similar goals and techniques.
One last story. I used to get very upset when I would read posts by some of Kate’s cousins on Facebook. At first I tried to argue with them, but it was affecting family relations. I finally ignored most of them, but would let them know if they were posting false information. One time our comments went like this:
You might want to take down this post because it is fake news
No it’s not. I checked it out.
I then went to a fact check site and copied down the research done showing it was made up and sent that.
His reply was, “But at least it’s MY fake news!”
Yes, I rolled my eyes and gave up. But guess what? He’s stopped posting false information. In fact, he’s mostly stopped posting vitriol. So, if you are still in online arguments, take a deep breath and ignore most of it, but maybe do, in a very nice way, point out if information is false. Limit your engagement to that and getting to know the other person. If you are empathetic and their replies are angry, realize you are probably interacting with a bot or wasting your time.
Meanwhile, know that the best thing you can do is to support people through loving communities. Get to know them better. Practice listening, empathy, curiosity and love.
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