AnderspeaK
NO ADULTS IN THE ROOM
My parents wanted to spend a weekend with some of their friends in Reno. We, the kids, ranged in age from 7(me) to 17, and my folks felt they could leave us to ourselves for a few days. No problem, right? With my oldest sister at 17, my brother at 16, and my other sister at 13—we would manage fine for just a weekend and we were fine—absolutely fine—for about a day, then came the power struggles. My brother sought to usurp the authority of the eldest, and my sisters formed an alliance against him. Strong wills contended for dominance and I clapped my hands over my ears, knowing in my young mind that it had been a mistake to leave us alone. It was crystal clear: there were no adults in the room.
A room without adults is prone to trouble. Chest-pounding proclamations are countered by cries of protest as all provisional authority is called into question and the room tends toward either chaos or tyranny. Or both.
Ever had the privilege of babysitting a “problem child”? We’re not talking about one with identifiable handicaps, but the kind of child who is driven to rule over and above the babysitter? That’s a real problem child, because the one who refuses to acknowledge any authority other than his or her own amounts to a terrorist, willing to do whatever is necessary to have his or her way.
America in 2020 bears a disturbing resemblance to a room full of children in the absence of any adults. The streets of Seattle, Portland, and other cities have become a shameful disgrace. I’m not talking those who peacefully demonstrate their collective opinions—but the vandals, the rioters, and the crude screamers—those who defy all authority other than that which issues from their own, malignant passions. It is these who have turned our peaceable island into the Lord of the Flies. Are we being unkind? Should we not rather acknowledge what brave and noble figures these street-going revolutionaries are? No, not in the least.
“No good tree bears bad fruit, nor again does a bad tree bear good fruit; for each tree is known by its own fruit.” (Luke 6: 43-44 NRSV)
Like nasty, little children yelling, “Mine! Mine! Mine!” with no one to calm or correct them, we see throngs of late adolescents, drunk with political self-righteousness, staking their claim over property, businesses, and local governments for which others bear appropriate responsibility. These are not noble revolutionaries but petulant children throwing a collective tantrum at the public expense. “But can’t we reason with them?” Apparently not. Though their heads contain little more than a few PolySci 101 sophomorisms (picked up from YouTube, not books), these ideas shall not and must not to be contested, nor even discussed. Civil discourse has been abandoned in favor of the cancel culture shout-down. It’s become The Jerry Springer Show from coast to coast. The loudest voice wins, and you are not allowed to speak. With ears that will not hear and minds pretty well immune to reason, the blind lead the blind in a holy march bearing all the moral certitude of puritanical pietism. Just don’t ask them to explain themselves, unless you like rocks thrown through your windows.
It certainly looks more like a faith-system than a thought system. Where thinking is involved, there is dialogue, debate, and learning; but wherever ideologies rise up to the level of religious faith, there is only spouting off and mindlessly echoing the jingoist slogans of the movement. Add sinful, human passions to the equation, and we see a collective self-indulgence that heaves toward violence. Neither Word nor reason rules, but a seething greed for selfish gain drives the putsch.
Remember the story of The Pied Piper of Hamelin? The Piper uses his flute to rid Hamelin of its overwhelming rat problem, which sounds like good news, until we remember how the story ends—with the Piper leading Hamelin’s children into a mountain cave from which they never return. In the village of Hamelin, the adults fail to protect their young ones (though they did save a bundle on rat extermination). Do we see a fit analogy here? Do we see a generation of our children disappearing into a dark cave of rebellion? Do we hear the Piper’s song promising them treats and sweets beyond imagining in his faraway land? Are we going to let the Piper take them? Shall we applaud their bravado or sympathize with their angry zeal?
As the youngest in my family, I didn’t have much to say when my older siblings quarreled. It’s not that I didn’t try, but at 7-years-old, there was no reason they should listen to me. More than once, through tears, I gave childlike articulation to my hopes for peace and justice, for I knew that the crisis was temporary and that good would ultimately prevail: “Just you wait till Mom and Dad get home!”
We, too, should set our hopes and whole hearts not in the machinations of self-interested, manmade movements, but in our Returning Lord, who is on His way back to us even now. Knowing this gives shape and character to us amid every trial and crisis. Be calm. Love one another. Jesus is coming. Just you wait! †
No Adults in the Room
My parents wanted to spend a weekend with some of their friends in Reno. We, the kids, ranged in age from 7(me) to 17, and my folks felt they could leave us to ourselves for a few days. No problem, right? With my oldest sister at 17, my brother at 16, and my other sister at 13—we would manage fine for just a weekend and we were fine—absolutely fine—for about a day, then came the power struggles. My brother sought to usurp the authority of the eldest, and my sisters formed an alliance against him. Strong wills contended for dominance and I clapped my hands over my ears, knowing in my young mind that it had been a mistake to leave us alone. It was crystal clear: there were no adults in the room.
A room without adults is prone to trouble. Chest-pounding proclamations are countered by cries of protest as all provisional authority is called into question and the room tends toward either chaos or tyranny. Or both.
Ever had the privilege of babysitting a “problem child”? We’re not talking about one with identifiable handicaps, but the kind of child who is driven to rule over and above the babysitter? That’s a real problem child, because the one who refuses to acknowledge any authority other than his or her own amounts to a terrorist, willing to do whatever is necessary to have his or her way.
America in 2020 bears a disturbing resemblance to a room full of children in the absence of any adults. The streets of Seattle, Portland, and other cities have become a shameful disgrace. I’m not talking those who peacefully demonstrate their collective opinions—but the vandals, the rioters, and the crude screamers—those who defy all authority other than that which issues from their own, malignant passions. It is these who have turned our peaceable island into the Lord of the Flies. Are we being unkind? Should we not rather acknowledge what brave and noble figures these street-going revolutionaries are? No, not in the least.
“No good tree bears bad fruit, nor again does a bad tree bear good fruit; for each tree is known by its own fruit.” (Luke 6: 43-44 NRSV)
Like nasty, little children yelling, “Mine! Mine! Mine!” with no one to calm or correct them, we see throngs of late adolescents, drunk with political self-righteousness, staking their claim over property, businesses, and local governments for which others bear appropriate responsibility. These are not noble revolutionaries but petulant children throwing a collective tantrum at the public expense. “But can’t we reason with them?” Apparently not. Though their heads contain little more than a few PolySci 101 sophomorisms (learned fromYouTube), these ideas shall not and must not to be contested, nor even discussed. Civil discourse has been abandoned in favor of the cancel culture shout-down. It’s become The Jerry Springer Show from coast to coast. The loudest voice wins, and you are not allowed to speak. With ears that will not hear and minds pretty well immune to reason, the blind lead the blind in a holy march bearing all the moral certitude of puritanical pietism. Just don’t ask them to explain themselves, unless you like rocks thrown through your windows.
It certainly looks more like a faith-system than a thought system. Where thinking is involved, there is dialogue, debate, and learning; but wherever ideologies rise up to the level of religious faith, there is only spouting off and mindlessly echoing the jingoist slogans of the movement. Add sinful, human passions to the equation, and we see a collective self-indulgence that heaves toward violence. Neither Word nor reason rules, but a seething greed for selfish gain drives the putsch.
Remember the story of The Pied Piper of Hamelin? The Piper uses his flute to rid Hamelin of its overwhelming rat problem, which sounds like good news, until we remember how the story ends—with the Piper leading Hamelin’s children into a mountain cave from which they never return. In the village of Hamelin, the adults fail to protect their young ones (though they did save a bundle on rat extermination). Do we see a fit analogy here? Do we see a generation of our children disappearing into a dark cave of rebellion? Do we hear the Piper’s song promising them treats and sweets beyond imagining in his faraway land? Are we going to let the Piper take them? Shall we applaud their bravado or sympathize with their angry zeal?
As the youngest in my family, I didn’t have much to say when my older siblings quarreled. It’s not that I didn’t try, but at 7-years-old, there was no reason they should listen to me. More than once, through tears, I gave childlike articulation to my hopes for peace and justice, for I knew that the crisis was temporary and that good would ultimately prevail: “Just you wait till Mom and Dad get home!”
We, too, should set our hopes and whole hearts not in the machinations of self-interested, manmade movements, but in our Returning Lord, who is on His way back to us even now. Knowing this gives shape and character to us amid every trial and crisis. Be calm. Love one another. Jesus is coming. Just you wait!