“The art of being wise is the art of knowing what to overlook”
~William James, Principles of Psychology
As Lent comes to a close and Holy Week begins, we are surrounded by noise — especially politics. Amidst this noise there is a great need for the voice of justice and truth. But there is a greater need for silence. After all, these are not two voices, but one in the same.
The polemics of the day set the stage in their own “either/or” terms. Sides must be taken. No quarter can be given. The so-called “conversation” is toxic.
Even when brave souls enter the wasteland of politics, noble energy is quickly sapped and anger ensues. And, all-too-often, anger begets hatred.
Perhaps, the sign of wisdom during this time of such poignant bitterness is to overlook the surface of politics altogether.
There are some who may have stores of energy that are exceptional. This is not the case for me. I find that when I spend my energy in the stagnant pool of status quo, media-crazed politics, I have less energy to offer towards loving others.
This is the question that we must ponder: How can my energy be used wisely? What must I overlook? What is the deeper question? How can I love?
If we all stopped bickering on these endless diatribes of artificial politics and went outside to talk to the homeless, invited them to eat in our homes, and gave them the clothes we never wear in our closets and dressers, what would the world become?
Those who debate health care and, in the process, do great damage to the health of their own heart and soul — and their ability to love others — are tragic examples of the dis-figuration of the human spirit by shallow affiliations. They sacrifice the health of an entire culture in exchange for political prizes.
Politics has become a spectacle. Transfigured by this spectacle, we lose sight of the Cross, our neighbor, our enemy, and ourselves.
I must use my energy wisely.