ASKING THE IMPOSSIBLE
There
is an old Indian saying something to the effect that we cannot possibly
understand another person until we have walked a mile in his moccasins.
That means, of course, we will never understand that person because we
cannot ever walk in another’s shoes. Often we think we can and sometimes
we think we have because we have experienced something like what the other
had. But even then, it is not the same.
It’s like telling my wife that I understand what it is like to be
pregnant because I have read a book on the subject, or that I know what it
is like to have a period because I have had stomach cramps, or that I know
what the pain involved in giving birth is like because I have had a kidney
stone – all which I have. She would tell me that I don’t have a clue
what any of it is like, which is the real truth.
(As an aside, the above is proof positive that God is a male.
It’s going to be tough enough on God explaining to women why only they
had to have periods and babies while the men in their lives acted as if
the worst part of pregnancy was their putting up with a sometimes-contrary
wife. Imagine a female God trying to explain that to other females! I just
thought I’d throw that in.)
So often we make judgments about others when we truly have no way
of understanding who they are or why they think or act the way they do.
Years ago John Howard Griffin, a white journalist with an inquisitive mind
dyed his skin black and as a black man traveled for six weeks through the
1950s South to experience what it was like to be a black man in the days
of almost total segregation and subjugation. He wrote of his experiences
in a book he titled Black like Me.
Last year Bishop Geralyn Wolf, the Episcopal Bishop of Rhode
Island, spent part of her sabbatical disguised as a homeless woman and
wandered the streets of New York and other large cities, staying in
shelters, eating meals served to the homeless, even visiting Episcopal
churches to see how truly welcoming they were to her.
Both
Griffin
and Wolf learned and
experienced much, perhaps even came close to understanding what it meant
to be a black man or a homeless woman. But closeness doesn’t count. They
could not be whom they pretended to be even as admirable as these attempts
were. We can only be who we are and cannot understand what it is like to
be someone else no matter how hard we try or how sincere our efforts.
When we make judgments about others whom we cannot possibly
understand, we often ask, even demand of them what is impossible. I cannot
understand what it is like to be pregnant any more than my wife can
understand why I sometimes think I understand her. The blessing and bane
of humanness is our uniqueness. Trying to understand the other and
pretending to walk in his or her shoes is vital in growing together as a
community. But we will always come up short. If we remember that, we will
be less judgmental, less demanding and certainly more understanding of the
other. That is all the other asks of us and all we ask of the other, even
as we are try to walk in each other’s shoes.
WJP
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