A Loner Re-Connects
By jharlow on Jun 23, 2010 | In General Applied Theology, Seventies Nostalgia, The Murky Middle | No Comments »
In recent weeks I have experienced connection synergy. It means I am experiencing a crashing together of several opportunities to meet with friends, colleagues, and family…folks I don’t get to see very often. Re-connection and connection.
Weddings, Conferences, Reunions
A month ago Mom, Dad, and my four siblings converged in Birmingham, Alabama for a wedding. My sister’s son got married. The wedding was cool, but the gathering with my family — even for a short weekend — was very cool. We re-connected through stories, celebration, and lots of food.
A few weeks ago my family and I attended a couple of weddings in the community where we once lived. We also attended a worship service where we began our Methodist journey. It was a healthy experience re-connecting with old friends. The same week I attended the annual conference for Virginia United Methodists. Sounds like a boring annual meeting, but in Methodism we take this very seriously. It’s in our Wesleyan DNA to gather with members of our conference every year - lay and clergy alike – for a few days of worship, business, and yes, re-connecting our lives. I talked with old friends and made new friends, and we made some progress ordering the ministries of the Virginia Conference. I was reminded that I’m a part of something larger than me, larger than my local congregation. I feel better now. While I never look forward to going to these conferences, I always return home re-energized and hopeful. Why?
Next month is my 35th-year high school reunion for the Beaver Area Senior High class of 1975. Go BASH Class of 1975! We were always the best. We might be getting old…some of you are lookin’ kind of ragged on FaceBook…but we have not given up. I’m sorry to say I will miss the event because of another commitment (…c’mon, I have a pretty good excuse…), but I have been privy to the e-mails from the reunion coordinator – thanks, Polly! - who has diligently invited us to register. She has shared details about the weekend events and sent out special requests for current mailing information for classmates we can’t find….like that guy in Trigonometry, the quiet one with curly red hair who sat in the back. Does anyone know where he is now?
Why Do I Want To Go?
The reunion e-mail chatter has encouraged me. I don’t talk often enough with my former classmates, but it doesn’t seem to matter, at least not this summer, because that’s my class. Those are my people. And even though the rest of the class of 1975 probably still considers me an annoying dweeb, I belong, I am one of them. So, I will surely miss the opportunity to re-connect with them.
I wonder, though, why do I want to go?
Good question. If I’m honest, I’d have to say I’m a loner. It’s not that I am anti-social (usually), but unless I’m playing Monopoly with my daughters or watching a movie with Linda, I prefer sitting alone reading or writing. So, I am surprised by my fascination with the ”connection events” I’ve described. Of all people, I’m the last one to be drawn into connecting with old friends and colleagues. OK, I understand the wedding in Alabama…most of the food was free, and my siblings have long accepted that I will always be annoying (I’m not a dweeb any more, really).
But the Methodist annual conference and my high school reunion are a stretch for me. An important stretch. Why did the conferenc re-energize me? Why am I interested in seeing old friends from high school? Maybe this need to connect is a part of my nature. I wonder if I am wired (created) to be with people, not apart from them. Duh. Of course. In my mind, this point is obvious and needs no further unpacking. We are created to live in community – whether this is comfortable for us or not. To put a theological imprint it, I think God’s image in us means we need to connect with other humans because its healthier and safer to live in community.
Blame My Myers-Briggs Classification
How, then, did I come to be such a loner? I can blame my Myers-Briggs classification. Every INTJ will understand. Leave me alone.
Or, I can blame my North American Protestant culture. We are raised to thrive on and prefer the frontier where we embrace good ol’ American rugged individualism. I’ll take care of my bootstraps, you take care of yours. We are trained to be suspicious of any effort that smacks of “common good” replacing individual rights.
Or, I can blame my New Hampshire DNA. “Live free or die” is on their license plates. Maybe that’s why its so easy to curl up with a book on the porch at the lake in New Hampshire. It’s the license plate.
I like freedom. I like my personal rights. Yay me. Leave me alone.
Who Gets To Win, And Who Decides?
Consider this as well: If I connect with you, it will be harder to stay alone. (Another duh.) Take it a bit further. If I connect with you, maybe it will become harder for me to hang on to my individual rights. Or, too bad for you, hanging on to my individual rights could mean you will lose yours….because we are connected. If we connect, your rights might result in me losing mine. This tension-filled cycle gets personal. So, who gets to win, and who decides?
Maybe if I disconnect, I can pretend there is no problem.
The organic tension between my individual rights and our common good has been debated for centuries. The tension exists within me, and between you and me1 . The cycle tuckers me out. I want to let it go. I am tempted to disconnect. I admit, reading a book on the front porch at the lake in New Hampshire sounds very appealing to this loner.
I Won’t Give Up
Take heart. Encouraged by the BASH ’75 reunion, I might be old and worn out but I won’t give up. Perhaps this year, for kicks, for the connection-cause, I might dust off an old copy of Amitai Etzioni’s, The Spirit Of Community: The Reinvention Of American Society2 . Etzioni tries to find a balance between the pursuit of common good and the pursuit of personal rights. He asserts, “strong rights presume strong responsibilities.” Hmm. This sounds like middle ground, a very murky, tension-filled, middle way.
Etzioni and others like him (more and more of us, fortunately) have long been convinced there is hearty middle ground where we can obtain a balance between a commitment to community and the pursuit of self-interest. They believe (me too..) that there is hopeful middle ground where you and I can retain our precious personal rights while also remaining diligent in our pursuit of common good. We must try. The alternative extremes will destroy us. We need the murky middle.
I have hope, if not the energy (for now). This tired loner has a long way to go to get to that hearty middle ground. I wonder if a good book in New Hampshire will help.
[Read an article about this topic, Leadership From The Middle. Find it in the Special Articles category. This was a lecture I delivered several years ago to a suspicious audience!]
© Copyright by Jeffrey Y. Harlow, PhD (2010).
- From a systems view it is easy to make the leap from the 1) tension between my individual rights and society’s common good to 2) the tension between my individual rights and the common good of our local congregation, and even to 3) the tension between my individual congregation’s rights and the common good of our Conference.
- New York: Simon & Schuster (1993).
