Recently my sweet wife did something very surprising and very funny. We were in one of those hip little bookstores with gourmet coffee and jazz on the Muzak when we noticed that the non-fiction section was filled with books bashing the Bush administration.
There were 5 different books, all focused on the case for impeachment and promising to chronicle his litany of lies. There were all on prominent display in little plastic stands.
My wife looked around to see if there were any books on sale written from a different political perspective. She couldn't find any, except for a stack of Bill O'Rielly's Culture Warrior.
To my open-mouthed amazement, my shy, soft-spoken, kind-hearted, non-political bride removed the 5 books from their displays, hid them in the stacks, and replaced them all with Bill O'Reilly. When she had finished, she turned to me with her eyes full of mischief and said, "Let's go."
We had a big laugh about it. As we walked down the street she explained that she did not mind the Bush-bashing books, but for there to be nothing available from the other side "just wasn't fair."
In this political season, I find myself thinking about fairness more and more. When NPR or Fox presents a story, I think, "was that fair?" How did they decide to air that sound bite or present that expert perspective, and not another?
Fairness is a big deal in our culture. Political broadcast rules are influenced by something called The Fairness Doctrine. As kids we are admonished to play fair. We want judges, referees, teachers and bosses to be fair.
The call for fairness is so prevalent there is tendency to view fairness as a more noble than it actually is. Fairness is not really one of the high virtues. The desire for fairness is actually grounded in self. When I say, "Be fair," usually I am really saying, "give me what I believe I am due."
This is very different than Jesus' demand that we love our neighbor as ourselves. It is different than his admonishment that we do to others as we would have them do to us. Living out these two teachings requires sacrifice, not merely equal time.
Being fair to my neighbor means I get his mail when he is out of town because he always gets mine when I travel. Loving my neighbor as myself means I get his mail and rake his leaves and take a pot of soup when he is sick, because I understand how important that would be to me if I were sick.
Someone with a reputation for fairness is really someone skilled at keeping conflicting expectations in balance. Everyone gets a lick off the lollipop, even if the act of communal licking diminishes the quality of the lollipop experience.
It's been said many times that life is not fair, and it was not meant to be. If life were always fair--if we always got what our rational thinking determines is our equal share, equal time, equal attention--would we ever feel the need for a savior?
Jesus said that we should look at unfairness as a blessing. When people shove us around, call us names, take the best places at the party, and speak to us with contempt because we love and follow him, then we are blessed. We are on the right track. We will be elevated in heaven in a way we can't begin to merit.
And that won't be fair either. But it will be wonderful.
There were 5 different books, all focused on the case for impeachment and promising to chronicle his litany of lies. There were all on prominent display in little plastic stands.
My wife looked around to see if there were any books on sale written from a different political perspective. She couldn't find any, except for a stack of Bill O'Rielly's Culture Warrior.
To my open-mouthed amazement, my shy, soft-spoken, kind-hearted, non-political bride removed the 5 books from their displays, hid them in the stacks, and replaced them all with Bill O'Reilly. When she had finished, she turned to me with her eyes full of mischief and said, "Let's go."
We had a big laugh about it. As we walked down the street she explained that she did not mind the Bush-bashing books, but for there to be nothing available from the other side "just wasn't fair."
In this political season, I find myself thinking about fairness more and more. When NPR or Fox presents a story, I think, "was that fair?" How did they decide to air that sound bite or present that expert perspective, and not another?
Fairness is a big deal in our culture. Political broadcast rules are influenced by something called The Fairness Doctrine. As kids we are admonished to play fair. We want judges, referees, teachers and bosses to be fair.
The call for fairness is so prevalent there is tendency to view fairness as a more noble than it actually is. Fairness is not really one of the high virtues. The desire for fairness is actually grounded in self. When I say, "Be fair," usually I am really saying, "give me what I believe I am due."
This is very different than Jesus' demand that we love our neighbor as ourselves. It is different than his admonishment that we do to others as we would have them do to us. Living out these two teachings requires sacrifice, not merely equal time.
Being fair to my neighbor means I get his mail when he is out of town because he always gets mine when I travel. Loving my neighbor as myself means I get his mail and rake his leaves and take a pot of soup when he is sick, because I understand how important that would be to me if I were sick.
Someone with a reputation for fairness is really someone skilled at keeping conflicting expectations in balance. Everyone gets a lick off the lollipop, even if the act of communal licking diminishes the quality of the lollipop experience.
It's been said many times that life is not fair, and it was not meant to be. If life were always fair--if we always got what our rational thinking determines is our equal share, equal time, equal attention--would we ever feel the need for a savior?
Jesus said that we should look at unfairness as a blessing. When people shove us around, call us names, take the best places at the party, and speak to us with contempt because we love and follow him, then we are blessed. We are on the right track. We will be elevated in heaven in a way we can't begin to merit.
And that won't be fair either. But it will be wonderful.
Comments