Posts filed under 'On this we agree'
There are moments when you hear news that knocks the breathe out of you. The death today of NBC’s Tim Russert took mine. He’s nearly a member of my family, joining me as he does on Sunday mornings for bagels and coffee for as long as I can remember.
It’s not that I haven’t whined at times when in his company. Some question he could have asked differently or didn’t ask at all.
But I offer a yardstick by which I think Mr. Russert can be judged, one of our very American DNA poetically offered by Dr. David Abshire of The Center for the Study of the Presidency:
I argue that in the great historical accomplishments of America,
these apparent opposites—commitment and tolerance—are bridged
by civility. Civility, as used here, is not simply following rules of etiquette
and decorum for the sake of tradition or in order to coat over
any differences. In its deepest sense, civility means respect, listening,
and dialogue. It does not mean watering down or giving up cherished
principles. Indeed, civility has often been exercised in the American
experience in order to move to the higher, common ground.
Commitment and tolerance as our great American traditions. Bridged by civility. By that measure - and I suspect many others - Russert was a giant.
June 13th, 2008
The HBO Miniseries John Adams features in it a conversation between Dr. Benjamin Rush and Mr. Adams that probably never happened. They were discussing who should be told of Abigail Adams death (since Dr. Rush apparently preceded Mrs. Adams in death, it’s safe to assume the conversation is fictitious).
Dr. Benjamin Rush: What about Mr. Jefferson. Surely he will wish to share your sorrow.
Adams: If I should receive a letter from him, I would not fail to answer.
Rush: Perhaps if you were to write yourself?
Adams: The man did me and my reputation great insult. He honored and salaried every villain he could find who was my enemy.
Rush: Well that is why it is you who must show the magnanimity of great minds. I always considered you and him the north and south poles of our revolution. Some talked some wrote and some fought to promote and establish it but you and Mr. Jefferson thought for us all.
Thus, fictitiously of course, began the real letters between the “north and south poles” of our revolution that ended, poetically, in the death of Mr. Adams and Mr. Jefferson on the same day, the 4th of July, 50 years from the birth of the nation that they formed.
Adams wrote to Jefferson:
You and I have passed our lives in serious times and we have suffered ourselves to be the passive subjects of public discussion and reaped animosity and bitterness… But you and I ought not to die until we have explained ourselves to each other. As long as there is government, there will be differences of opinion… Whether you or I were right, posterity must judge, yet I ask of you who shall write the history of our revolution. Who can write it?
Who shall write the history of our revolution? Why, of course, it is no one but us.
Adams last words before his death were “Thomas Jefferson lives.”
Ironically, Jefferson had at that time already passed away.
But we live. The philosophical descendants of Jefferson and Adams are alive and well. The history of our revolution is still being written, this amazing experiment in “the course of human events.”
We write.
May 4th, 2008
I am enamored with the three-legged stool.
In looking back on just where such an oddball affinity came from, I’m thinking it started with its colorful use as a prop by the late great He-Coon Florida governor Lawton Chiles. In his 1991 State of the State speech, Governor Chiles waved a three-legged stool in the air as an illustration of the American system of balance of powers between the executive, legislative and judicial branches. Saw a leg off, and that stool won’t sit right.
I’ve come to believe deeply, even reverently, in the balance of powers. The three legs of the stool of democracy achieves what is best in human history by acknowledging what is worst in human nature… that too much power tends to get the best of us pretty easily.
When I came back around to the religious faith of my childhood as an adult, good grief if I didn’t find another three-legged stool sitting right there in my Episcopal faith. The legs of this stool are Scripture, Tradition and Reason.
For a hoot, I googled “three-legged stool.” Apparently that little stool is a metaphor for balance in just about everything - Ronald Reagan’s conservative coalition, executive managerial theory, mind body & spirit - and on and on.
I recently found another sensible three-legged stool in Jim Wallis’ book The Great Awakening:
All three sectors of a society need to be functioning well for its health and well-being - the private (market) sector, the public sector, and the civil society (nongovernmental and nonprofit organizations, of which faith communities are a part). It is indeed like a three-legged stool. Each sector has crucial roles to play, and each should do what only it can do and not replace what the others can do better.
Private vs. public, business vs. government, church vs. state. The now dull and predictable political argument rages on, straining credibility that it never settles on the obvious conclusion that it’s “and” rather than “either/or”.
That lowly three-legged stool, it sits so close to the ground - so inconspicuously that you might just trip over it. But when you need to get something way up high, whether it’s a can of tomato soup or the makings of a fine democracy, it is so there for you.
All we have to do is make sure it sits right.
March 14th, 2008
NOBODY puts baby in a corner! (the “dirty dancing” version of throwing
baby out with the bathwater)…
So to follow Liz’s line of thought…. (3 posts down)
BABY = business and government and other things that are at the core
necessary and good for our lives and country
BATHWATER= excess and indulgence
I was VERY good at the analogies section of the SAT exam, can you tell?
Aren’t we are all bathing in that same bathwater these days? (by the
way, that is another metaphor since our bathtub is WAY too small for
all of us to be in at one time). Not only bathing in the dirty
bathwater, but clearly VERY aware of everyone’s else’s bathwater…
but our own.
I started to write this post about the excessive bathwater that seems
to be coming with the election (too much coverage, too much exposure,
too much campaigning, too much makeup on those candidates…) but
found that the excessive piles of STUFF on my desk was distracting me,
the hectic and overstuffed schedule that my three kids are on keeps me
from having time to think clearly about any subject (just about to
make an orthodontist run with the eldest child, so this has to be
typed quickly), and the additional, not really needed stuff on my “got
to get it at target” list is also staring me in the face and is a bit
convicting (but the cute spring placemats are so necessary to my life).
How can i make judgements about BIG corporate presidents being
excessive, about government over spending, about campaign spewing,
when my own budget, my own personal spending is exactly the SAME
bathwater swill. the ring in my tub may be smaller, but it is still a
ring around my tub. As the old playground saying goes “point a finger
at me and you have three pointing back at you” (said in a really whiny
kindergarten tone). My own schedule is jam packed with nary a moment
to breathe and just be a good person to others and to myself.
It is bathwater, bathwater, everywhere and nary a drop to drink.
“Cultural restoration (like charity) begins at home” (said by Russell
Kirk who i just googled and found out was a really big conservative
guy. Really i didn’t know that, i just liked that quote, perhaps
showing my conservative slant on things). If i can only manage the
draining of my own bathwater whilst preserving baby in my home and
personal life, then that may be a beginning of a cultural
revolution…. or maybe just a cleaner bathtub for me and my family.
How can I aspire to do more while I am in the overfilled tub already?
Much like the warning on hairdryers “not for use while in the
bathtub”, maybe that should be the warning on complaints about
excessiveness in other’s lives… don’t do it while ordering online
from Pottery Barn or planning another shopping trip to Target.
(disclaimer, you can substitute ANY and ALL consumer friendly stores
for Pottery Barn and Target, those happen to be my personal favorites
and I am accepting any and all gift certificates from those
establishments… wait, that will just add to my excess… won’t it?
Oh, I am in deep bathwater here….)
March 3rd, 2008
I’m reading the book “Good to Great” by Jim Collins, recommended to me by my conservative friend Lea. The book talks about “Level 5 leadership” being one of the required conditions for a company to achieve greatness.
Level 5 leadership isn’t at all what you’d expect it to be. Level 5 leaders are humble, a little awkward when it comes to slick media sound bites. But behind the scene, they demonstrate single-minded determination to achieve solid results. Once exceptional results are achieved, they tend to be leaders who give credit to their employees or even luck. They build things that are solid, that last. They’re the best of what American capitalism offers. They’re kind of American like apple pie.
According to Collins:
The recent spate of boards enamored with charismatic CEO’s especially rock star celebrity types is one of the most damaging trends for the long term health of companies and if this trend persists - if we see a triumph of celebrity over leadership and we maintain our misguided mix-up between those two concepts - we will see very few great institutions the next century.
It occurred to me as I read this passage that this zillionaire show-off CEO is substantially part of the picture I think many liberals have in their brain when they think of big business. They notice what’s wrong with big business, not what’s right with it… not the “Level 5 leadership” that’s out there and does capitalism proud. Slick zillionaire leader boy (or girl) isn’t good for anyone, if you follow Collins thinking; not for America, not for capitalism, not even for their company. This person is a distortion, an aberration, an example of the excess that tends to always create trouble (in River City, that starts with “t” that rhymes with “p” that stands with pool).
That got me thinking that maybe liberals tend to throw the baby out with the bathwater when they’re talking what’s wrong with big business. They develop a hostile tick about “big business.” And I’m thinking that conservatives tend to throw the baby out with the bathwater when they’re talking what’s wrong with government… “big government.”
All this baby throwing out when really the problem we all share isn’t either the business or the government but the excess that exists in both?
What would happen if liberals attended to the excess that exists in government and conservatives attended to the excess that exists in corporate America? What would happen if we demonstrated “Level 5 leadership”, reaching for greatness within our own general sphere of influence? Where might we be then?
February 27th, 2008
Today is my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary. A lot has changed since September 7, 1957, not the least of which is I wasn’t around at all back then and now I’m not so very far from hitting 50 years myself. Between then and now my parents have built a life around each other and their three children. There has never been a moment since when they were not there for us. (Wow, they must be tired.) They’ve got three happy productive adult children to show for it (who have three marriages that seem to have stuck) and four spectacular grandchildren. And, best yet, they’re in Paris at this moment celebrating. They done good.
1957 - a year when Dwight Eisenhower took his second term, Elvis Presley bought Graceland, American Bandstand premiered, Dr. Seuss published Cat in the Hat and (of great family significance) North Carolina beat Kansas in triple overtimes to win the NCAA Men’s Basketball Championship.
For most of the years of their marriage, it was the family joke on election day when my parents dutifully went to the polls “I’m going to go cancel out your dad’s/mom’s vote”. But they stayed married, go figure. I doubt if political party was even discussed seriously between them before they married - rather common dreams & values, a focus on family and a dedication to community and country. Almost 50 years later, my daughter wanted to date a fine young man. They almost never even considered it because they were of different political persuasions.
A lot can change in 50 years.
I know my parents are concerned with some of those changes, particularly in our civic and political landscape. In honor of their 50 years of marriage and their lives of service to this country (and out of respect for not making this day’s post about much else other than them) I will be starting a blog feature: “50 years.” Every once in a while, it’s worth a constructive look back. (Think we should deep six the “walked 2 miles to school in the snow uphill both ways” posts?)
Stay tuned.
And Happy Anniversary Mom & Dad. We love you.
September 7th, 2007
As a general rule of thumb, when we find ourselves at a point of contentious disagreement (like on about everything nowadays), it’s time to back up a little, to zoom out.
Abandoning a narrow perspective, taking a wider one, we often find things we agree on, sometimes enthusiastically. There are times when we’re spinning in our own little mental circles, all the while just a few short measurements from others spinning in theirs, with much mutual agreement no one has bothered to unearth for all the darn spinning.
I think our Founding Fathers’ opus - our Constitution - is just such a wider view, a plumb line in this country. . . left, right, whatever. That’s part of why The Village Square will pay attention to those old dead guys with quill pens. In our time, we are charged with stretching to answer the questions raised in the conversation they started.
In part, our mutual reverence for the Constitution is a bit of a Rorschach test - we see in it what we want or expect to see. So perhaps our agreement is somewhat illusory, but isn’t that still a miracle? Isn’t that nearly the best we can hope for, where the consent of the governed keeps hanging on, 230 years after?
“A Republic, if you can keep it” in the words of Founding Father Franklin.
But beyond the Rorschach test-ness of it, part of the beauty of what they built is in the very tightrope they walked in the building. Their agreement was tenuous, as is ours, as it will likely always be. And yet, still today this unlikely mix of people moves forward together. Ugly and uncivil sometimes, yep. But still together.
Tightrope walking is pretty tense, but we’d better get back on it.
August 29th, 2007
