Simon Duffy

Thoughts, Bemusements & Arguments

Tag: love

On The Desire For Citizenship

What connects
The child abandoned by his mother,
The mother beaten by her man,
The wounded soldier, and
The fleeing refugee?

Love,
Love certainly is needed.
But love alone,
Or love unguided,
May fail to hit the mark.

For we each need
To live a life
Of meaning, where hope can spring,
Where our presence takes on weight,
And where respect can be restored.

Perhaps
We long for citizenship
In heaven, or perhaps
Just along our street.
For the world may bear our absence,
But we know it could also be our home.

May we connect,
Like stars in constellations,
Offering guidance, and meaning in the dark.
May we weave a net for souls,
Haven or harbour, where love can work,
And reconnect us all.

Why We Are Launching Citizen Network

Hütia te rito o te harakeke, kei hea te kömako e kö? 
Kï mai ki a au, ‘He aha te mea nui i te ao?’ Māku e kï atu, ‘He tāngata, he tāngata, he tāngata’. 

If the heart of the flax is pulled out, where will the kömako sing? 
If you ask me what is most important in this world, I will reply, ‘It’s people, it’s people, it’s people.’Maori Proverb*

Last Thursday, in Auckland, at the international conference on self-direction, brilliantly hosted by Manawanui In Charge, we launched Citizen Network. I think this might be the most important initiative that I’ve been a part of and I want to explain here why we’ve come together to create Citizen Network, and why we hope you will join us.

The idea of Citizen Network began at the Vancouver Conference on self-direction in 2015. We wanted to find a way to connect up all the positive initiatives, around the world, that advance citizenship for people with disabilities, and for the many others who face oppression, stigma and exclusion.

Many of us have spent a good part of our lives working on important system changes (like closing institutions, creating community supports or developing systems of self-directed support) and we want to build on all of this. We want to get better at recognising and supporting positive innovation and be more effective at advocating for these changes within our societies.

However we also feel that these system changes are not enough. Even the best system can be corrupted when we lose sight of the deeper values that inspire our work and our own integrity in helping change to happen.

We need to understand what we are really trying to achieve and why it is important. So we have focused not just on self-direction, but on the broader goal of citizenship for all.

For while it would be simpler to have a narrow focus, on systems of self-direction (important as these are) we feel that this will fail to address the real challenges that we face. Even more importantly, we would fail to tap into the hunger for justice and for true citizenship that had originally inspired deinstitutionalisation and the creation of positive innovations, like systems of self-direction.

It is the values that inspire and fuel our appetite for making change happen. We believe people are ready for a more ambitious and hopeful vision of the future.

Now is a good time to stand back and think about the bigger picture. Now is a good time to break down the barriers, silos and categories that so easily divide us. Now is a good time to go deeper and seek the true source of our values. For so many of us want to live in a world where

  • difference is not just accepted, but rather it is cherished and celebrated,
  • where we don’t just treat people as if they were equal, we know that they really are equal, and
  • where everyone can be a true citizen, living a life of meaning, supported with love.

There is no better time to express these hopes and to try and act from them. The election of Donald Trump, Brexit, politicians pandering to hatred and vicious austerity policies (especially in the UK) are all signs that the old ways of thinking are not working.

We cannot be satisfied by just focusing on changing systems when the world as a whole is going backwards towards increased social injustice. We must see our lives and our work in the light of this bigger picture – no matter how challenging that may feel.

So how can we respond to the challenges ahead?

Of course it is important for all of us to play our part in the ordinary political processes in our communities, to get involved and to support those advocating justice and citizenship for all. But even if we win the occasional victory in this way this won’t help us if we do not also understand the cause of our current problems. Winning power is only helpful if we know what to do with that power.

Those of us who have been fighting to close institutions, to advance disability rights, to promote self-direction and community lives, have a special responsibility to share what we’ve learned with others. We have two generations of learning about what it takes to support real citizenship. We must share that and try to reshape the assumptions of the political landscape around it.

For instance, we could make common cause with those who face others kinds of exclusion from citizenship. The migrant, refugee or asylum seeker, fleeing terror or just trying to build a better life, faces hatred and exclusion, just as have many disabled people. Can we not work with those communities and learn from them about what they are doing to achieve true citizenship? Can we not help them stand up against xenophobia and racism?

Also, if we do advocate inclusion into community, then surely we must also pay attention to the real state of those communities. We do not want to include people in communities that are rife with poverty, insecurity, inadequate welfare systems or where there are no decent democratic structures. Citizenship is a problem for all of us; we are increasingly living in an elitist society where the only source of value is a paid job. This is bad for all of us, and in our changing economy it is hard to see how this is even sustainable. Inclusion is not enough. It must be inclusion, with justice, that we seek.

Perhaps, at a deeper level, this is also about the kind of people we want to be. Do we think the worship of money, status and power will lead anywhere good? Lives of meaning and love, lives of citizenship, are possible for all of us. But we must leave behind the shallow values and insecurities that feed our fears and tempt us to blame other people for our problems.

We must be citizens, true citizens, thinking and acting with integrity and with a concern for other people and the natural world. We must value citizenship – and explain its value to others. We must act like citizens – cooperating and taking responsibility for the communities in which we live.

We must grow and safeguard the heart of the flax – the communities that nurture and sustain us.

This, at least, is our crazy dream; and this is what led us to form Citizen Network.

You can find out more by visiting the Citizen Network website. You can join for free, and groups or organisations who want to become part of a community committed to the values of citizenship will be listed on our world map.

It is early days, there is much to do and we are bound to make some mistakes. But we have already established networks in Australia, Scotland and England and we hope to have several other countries join us shortly.

What will it do?

Well to begin with I think the focus will be on innovation and advocacy.

There is much we can do already. There are great people out there doing brilliant work. We need to learn from each other. So Citizen Network will act as an international cooperative of people and organisations who are willing to learn and share with each other – share and share alike. We hope to end the pointless competition which so often closes down innovation. Instead we will focus on how we can help make positive change happen together. Events, webinars and practical projects are likely to be early first steps.

There is also much to challenge. Sometimes we need to change systems, change laws, combat injustice. Often this is too hard for one person or one organisation. But through cooperative international action we may have the ability to exercise more influence on behalf of justice. For instance international surveys can help us better understand where progress is, and isn’t, being made.

And of course self-direction and individualised funding will still be a very big part of things – it is still our strongest suit. I very much hope we can build on the great work started in Vancouver and continued in Auckland. Perhaps we can set a new date for an international gathering.

It’s early days, but I know that others will join us. There is a hunger for a more positive vision for society and we can play a part in helping to define and share that vision.

When times are hard and when so many seem to have forgotten the meaning of citizenship and justice then we must stand up and we must reach out to each other. We must not join in with those lost in hatred, nor can we stand by, expecting someone else to solve our problem.

Perhaps the triple call of the Maori proverb is to remind us that

People are valuable – there’s no place for rejection and exclusion

People are special – each of us can live a life of love and meaning

People are powerful – together we have what it takes to build a better world

Citizen Network may not be able to solve all the worlds problems; but together we can create a world where we recognise that everyone is different, everyone is equal and everyone matters.

Join Us

* By visiting Auckland library I discovered that the kömako is most probably the bellbird and the metaphor of the flax is related to the fact that new life comes from the heart of the flax bush; to pull out the heart of the bush is to leave the bush sterile and incapable of bring forth new generations.

There is a Revolution Going On

There is a revolution going on. We are beginning to realise that everyone, every human being is important. We are beginning to see that every human being is beautiful. At the heart of this revolution are not the powerful, the wealthy or intelligent. It is people with disabilities who are showing us what is important – love, community and the freedom to be ourselves.

This was the message of Jean Vanier as he received the Templeton Prize – at St Martins in the Fields on Monday evening. His acceptance speech was powerful and direct.
For me it was a blessing to feel the blast of his optimism. As he said, in 1945 we had Hiroshima and the uncovering of Auschwitz; and of course we don’t have to look too hard to see further ugliness. But surely he is right to claim that something of importance did happen then – a new chapter did open. Not only did we begin to recognise the importance of human rights but also – slowly, all too slowly – we began the liberation of all those ‘others’ who had been trapped in institutions, deemed unworthy, by a society that had lost its moral compass.
This is a particular blessing only a few days after a UK General Election when the worst government in 75 years – a Government that has targeted disabled people for cuts and chosen to impoverish the poor – has been returned to power. Vanier captures exactly the fundamental flaw in the thinking and behaviour of the powerful – they behave as if the point of life is to climb higher and higher, to even clamber up upon the backs of the weak. But where are they going? What will they find when they get there? They will be empty and alone.
What must we do about our leaders, who are lost? Well – to begin with he suggests – we must pray for them.
A powerful message for me at least – for I know my own pride is such that I’d like nothing better than to enumerate their many failings. But he is right. They are lost. They know not what they do. Their cleverness is ultimately at their own expense – however many years in power they gain, however big the pile of money they amass. There is no joy in it. There is no beauty in it.
Despite our current problems I do not believe the current attack upon the human rights, the welfare state and justice will succeed. We have come too far to turn back to the hell that we’ve left behind. There are still signs of hope, amidst the darkness.
I have been particularly inspired by how many people have come together to support Learning Disability Alliance England since its creation in the Autumn of 2014. In just a few months we’ve united hundreds of people and organisations in a movement to stick up for the rights of people with learning disabilities. And this movement has been led by people with learning disabilities – friends like Karen Flood, Simon Cramp and Gary Bourlet have called upon different people to unite and work together. They have welcomed the respectful support of families, professionals and other allies. They’ve shown how much can be achieved when we come together in community.
This was so striking when we ran the Citizen Jury event to mark the political parties. It is true that the Conservative Party refused to attend (given their record this is not too surprising); but the others who attended, including Labour’s disability spokesperson Kate Green, engaged in an intense and respectful debate with people with learning disabilities and their families about the details of policy.
An old friend of mine, Virginia Moffatt (now at Ekklesia) reminded me that back in 1992 when she’d suggested that there be a hustings for people with learning disabilities in Southwark (where we both worked) that she had been faced with blank incomprehension. Today we are capable of having real and important debates with senior politicians. The election result may not have gone the way LDA England would have liked – but life is not always about winning and getting what you want. This development still marks another important step towards full citizenship for people with learning disabilities.
I am also encouraged by an event just a few days away – the wonderful punk rock band PKN – a band made up of people with learning disabilities – will be representing Finland at the Eurovision Song Contest. [Please cast your vote!] Again people with learning disabilities are refusing to be held back by other people’s ideas about what they can and cannot do. I have also just learned that Gavin Harding, a leading self-advocate with learning disabilities, has just become Mayor of Selby.
For me Vanier has already had a tremendous impact on my own thinking. In his commentary on the Gospel of St John Vanier writes:

Frequently it is only when those who are powerful experience failure, sickness, weakness or loneliness that they discover they are not self-sufficient and all-powerful, and that they need God and others. Out of their weakness and poverty they can then cry out to God and discover God in a new way as the God of love and tenderness, full of compassion and goodness.

I must say that for myself it has been a transformation to be in L’Arche. When I founded l’Arche it was to “be good” and to “do good” to people with disabilities. I had no idea how these people were going to do good to me! A bishop once told me: “You in L’Arche are responsible for a Copernican revolution: up until now we used to say that we should do good to the poor. You are saying that poor are doing good to you!” The people we are healing are in fact healing us, even if they do not realise it. They call us to love and awaken within us what is most precious: compassion.

Trying to ‘do good’ can quickly be a trap – it becomes about us, our pride, our glory, our achievements – and we can quickly tire and turn to blaming others. When we’re tempted in this way, we must see how empty all of this is. We all know we must die, and all our moments of power and glory are just vanities – that quickly pass away. What abides – is love.
Personally I am interested in exploring further what this Copernican revolution might look like for the welfare state as a whole. How can we live together in a way that accepts and honours mutual dependency? How can we invite contribution and challenge from those of whom society expects too little? How can we live in community? As Vanier says we need community, but real community is mucky, a little bit crazy and often quite annoying. But it is only this kind of community that can create the beauty, truth and the love we all need.
These kinds of questions demand that we reconsider many of our common assumptions about how best to organise society and the welfare state:
Income security – Does it make sense to impose the highest taxes on the poorest, and to load people with stigma or try and control them with sanctions and the patronising Work Programme?
Education – Why do we need to regulate teachers and schools as if Whitehall knows best? Why do we rank and exclude children who need more help to learn?
Health – Why do we heap unrealistic expectation on doctors and nurses? Why do we keep people in hospital when they would thrive better at home or in community?
Disability – Why do we force people to give up freedom just because they need some assistance? Why do we load special taxes on disabled people and the elderly?
Housing – Why are only some able to buy their own home? Why is it acceptable that some people can no longer be able to afford to live in their own communities because prices or rents have gone up?
The social problems we face today reflect the challenges Vanier describes. Justice means not just a fair set of rules and rights which individuals enable people to live decent lives; much more it means living together, valuing each other and creating a better world.
I will end with the Benediction (blessing) which was composed by Jean Vanier’s sister Therese and which ended the award ceremony:

May oppressed people and those who oppress them, free each other.
May those who are disabled and those who think they are not, help each other.
May those who need someone to listen, touch the hearts of those who are too busy.
May the homeless bring joy to those who open their doors reluctantly.
May the lonely heal those who think they are self-sufficient.
May the poor melt the hearts of the rich.
May seekers of truth give life to those who are satisfied that they have found it.
May the dying who do not wish to die be comforted by those who find it hard to live.
May the unloved be allowed to unlock the hearts of those who cannot love.
May prisoners find true freedom and liberate others from fear.
May those who sleep on the streets share their gentleness with those who cannot understand them.
May the hungry tear the veil from those who do not hunger after justice.
May those who live without hope, cleanse the hearts of their brothers and sisters who are afraid to live.
May the weak confound the strong and save them.
May violence be overcome with compassion.
May violence be absorbed by men and women of peace.
May violence succumb to those who are totally vulnerable, that we may be healed.

Amen

Who is Strong and Who is Weak?

This week I was lucky enough to be invited to hear Jean Vanier speak. For those of you who do not know of Vanier, he is the founder of the L’Arche movement that encourages people with and without learning disabilities to live together as equals. He is also a Christian philosopher and he was joined on the platform by Cardinal Vincent Nichols and Archbishop Justin Welby.

The title of the talk was “Living together for the common good: why do the strong need the weak?” and the event was sponsored by Together for the Common Good – an ecumenical movement to advance social justice.

However Vanier’s starting point is not ‘What makes us strong?’ instead he asks ‘What makes us human?”

He reflects on the Enlightenment account of humanity, with its ideal of the rational, competent and goal-achieving human. This ideal is central to modern thinking about the self, morality and politics – it is the all-important ‘rational I’. But he observed how self-defeating this ideal becomes. The more an individual advances, the more he must leave others behind; the more we worship such individual striving, the more people we must condemned to be left behind. We think we are building, while we’re merely destroying.

Instead, for Vanier, we must begin with acceptance and love as St Paul understands it:

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonour others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” [1 Corinthians 13:4-7]

For me this was one of the most memorable points in the evening, where Vanier – using a text that is so often rushed – points out that what comes first is patience. The modern view of love so often misses this point – it slips into that dangerous Enlightenment mode where all the focus is on what we do in the name of love. Love becomes another badge that we try to award ourselves.

We strive to do, to change, to improve – yet so often we fail to just be with each other, to meet each other and to accept each other. Movingly, Vanier told the story of a male prostitute in Australia, who, dying in the arms of a member of L’Arche, said:

You’ve always wanted to change me; but you’ve never met me.

In the process of fixing others we lose sight of our very humanity – our essential fragility, our need for love, for belonging and contribution. Humanism becomes inhuman.

This reminded me of my first experience of people with learning disabilities, in an institution in the south of England. The place and the behaviour of the staff, struck me with horror, but the more important experience for me was that it offered me a different way of being human. I was a highly competitive young man, with some modest academic abilities, and a raging desire to work, to achieve and to win. Yet, here were people taken out of that rat race, and yet fully human. Here was goodness, calmness, dignity, care, curiosity, play, challenge, suffering, and fear. Here were people who were certainly different, but wonderfully so.

For me this experience challenged my notion of who I was and what was the purpose of my life. However, paradoxically, it also turned into a mission which, for better or worse, has driven most of my decisions over the last 25 years. So I worked to help people leave institutions, take control of their lives, make friends, contribute to community – to become full citizens. It became a project – and in the light of Vanier’s critique I can see that this project is also full of dangers. It can lead one into a feeling of self-importance and it tempts one to see others as the means by which your goals can be achieved.

Vainer’s approach is different. As he put it, the mission of L’Arche is less about what it achieves (although it achieves a lot) but more about the message that is inherent in its way of being – that we must meet together as fellow humans. For in the meeting of the ‘strong’ and the ‘weak’ each are transformed. The weak may be supported, but the strong also get the chance to find out what really matters and who they really are.

In fact nobody is really ‘weak’ or ‘strong’. Instead the desire to be amongst the strong, and to avoid the weak, is just a symptom of a society’s failure to welcome all and to comprehend the true value of each individual. We are like little kids wanting to be picked for the team we think will win – and so we allow ourselves to be judged by the wrong values. We even score ourselves by these distorted values – forgetting what is really important to us, focusing instead on what is important to ‘them’.

The discussion after Vanier’s talk was also fascinating – less for its content, more for the tensions and paradoxes it revealed.

The setting was important. We were tucked away in a corner of the Houses of Parliament, surrounded by images of splendour and power. The room was packed with famous faces – journalists, Lords, politicians and others from amongst the powerful. The discussion was led by Sarah Montague – of Radio 4’s famously combative and Westminster-centric Today Programme – who, revealingly, said she thought she knew most of the people in the room (although she certainly didn’t know me, and I met one Lord who certainly didn’t know her). In other words, we were at home, amongst the strong.

Montague then endeavoured, with minimal success, to play devil’s advocate and to encourage a lively discussion in the normal style. However the Philosopher, Cardinal and Archbishop all refused to play along. Instead they reflected on the need for time, discussion and humility in the political process.

Vanier refused to play ‘political advisor’ or ‘expert’ and in this refusal he lived his principles. Yet for Montague, and I think for some others in this room, this seemed deeply disappointing and frustrating. They wanted answers, solutions and policies. They were the strong and they wanted something to give them more strength – whether it was food they could consume (the latest good idea) or at least a good argument, a test of strength.

For modern politics demands that the powerful are constantly mindful of their appearance in the media and they must, at all times, maintain the illusion that they are competent to solve any problem. The powerful are caught in an impossible trap – for they must present themselves as the answer to any question we might ask. They are the folk who stand atop the crazy pinnacle of the world that Vanier wants us to reject: a world where one can only advance by standing on the back of the other.

It is important to note that Vanier is far from attacking government, the powerful, the professional experts or the policy-makers. He is not saying they are wrong, stupid or evil. Instead he is acting out the very issue he wants people to understand: we must meet each other; we do not need to use each other.

For myself the event also cast some light on my own dilemmas. I set up The Centre for Welfare Reform in 2009 with the goal of creating an independent community to develop positive and just solutions for the problems of the welfare state. I wanted to protect and support the social innovators who were often squeezed and abused by a political system that doesn’t know how to respect the integrity of things. Yet, it has been much harder to do this than I expected.

Instead, since 2010, my work has been dominated by a goal that I certainly didn’t want – to campaign against the injustice of the current UK Government. I expected others to do this – yet I’ve found that there has been no significant defence against cuts and policy changes that target and abuse disabled people – including people with learning disabilities – even though disabled people are the number one target for cuts by Government. I wanted to be developing better solutions; instead I’ve found myself more often simply defending basic rights.

I’m not sure what this means for me personally, but the image of Vanier reminded me that the world is not a puzzle to be solved. We must live and act with integrity and love. We cannot hope to be the answer to every question. We must be true to our own gifts and find the role that is right for us.

If I had one frustration in all of this it was simply that it was so hard to challenge the rather strange assumption in the home of the powerful that that it was they – the powerful – who could be trusted to act in the best interests of people with learning disabilities.

Does it makes sense to assume the abuser will reform himself?

Today I am working as hard as I can to develop Learning Disability Alliance England – a campaigning group that brings together all the key organisations for people with learning disabilities. I do this because I feel that it is not enough to offer Government good ideas. It is not enough to wait for the powerful to want to do what is right.

I do not have enough faith that the powerful, on their own, can learn the necessary humility to transform themselves. I feel that those of us who are weak must organise ourselves to demonstrate that we are not irrelevant, redundant or unworthy. I remember the words of Rebbe Shmelke who said:

The rich need the poor more than the poor need the rich. Unfortunately, neither is conscious of it.

I do believe the ‘strong’ need the weak, but I also believe the weak need to find and express their strength – a strength which is greater than the strength of the strong if it is a strength founded in love, community and justice.

I think that Vanier’s challenge is right – his thinking and his actions maintain integrity in their humility and their orientation to the actual meeting of humans. But I also feel that the ‘weak’ cannot afford to wait for the ‘strong’ to wake up to their true needs. Mental handicap ‘hospitals’, like the one I visited, and which as Vanier rightly said “crush disabled people” had to be closed. The reason they were closed was because families, disabled people and their allies came together to work and to lobby to bring about their closure. It did not happen by accident or because of some politician.

Sometimes we do need to lobby, to organise and to join the political process. It may be dysfunctional and confused – but unless disabled people and families are present in that process too – just as they should be present at every other level of community life – then they will not be able to defend their rights or interests. The presence of people with learning disabilities within the political process may even bring some honesty and humility to that strange world.

One final thought: if you read this before 11th February 2015 please complete our survey to Quality Check Government. [Now closed]

Why is Pride the Greatest Sin?

Solzhenitsyn says “Pride grows in the human heart like lard on a pig.”

Dante places Pride at the foot of Mount Purgatory and imagines how it might take hundreds of years for us to pay its price. First we must wander along this first cornice – bowed down by the weight of a giant boulder carried on on our back.

But why is Pride the first and most dangerous sin? In what sense is it particularly dangerous? After all we can use the word Pride in a very positive way. I remember as a very small child being told off by my parents ‘Don’t be so proud, Simon!’ And I remember thinking to myself ‘Why shouldn’t I be proud? Isn’t pride a good thing?’ We imagine a proud knight in shining armour. We imagine a happy child beaming with pride at their achievement.

What is the key to unlocking the problem of Pride?

Perhaps it is to do with how we love ourselves. A proper love of ourself is necessary. It is not that we should love others instead of ourselves, it as we should love them as ourselves. Implicit in this is the assumption that love is real love – a real care and concern for the best interests of the person.

In this sense, good self-love – proper Pride in oneself – also assumes humility and a desire for change, improvement and making the best of ourselves. To not take care of our own needs, to not develop ourselves, is a moral failing. This is not about ‘just loving ourselves for the way we are’ rather it is about challenging ourselves to be the best that we can be – in the knowledge of our own needs and weaknesses.

But if this kind of self-love is not the problem then what is?

Part of this problem may be that in loving ourselves we struggle to avoid (a) thinking ourselves better than other people and (b) better than God. We seem unable to simply get on with doing the best we can. Instead we put ourselves at the centre of things. We lose sight of the value and gifts of other people and we lose sight of our place in God’s kingdom. Perhaps all our other failings and sins are rooted in this first sin – we put ourselves at the centre of things.

I love this piece of Jewish wisdom which captures the paradox of Pride most beautifully:

Just before he died, the Baal Shem told his disciples that the one among them who would teach them how to overcome pride would be his successor. The problem was put to each of them; the Maggid happened to be called first. His answer: Since pride is one of God’s attributes, man cannot uproot it entirely, all at once; it must be fought every day and at every moment. This reply was so favourably received, no one else was questioned.

From Souls on Fire by Elie Wiesel

Or to quote Anna Akhmatova:

Just save me from pride
The rest I can manage.

Love Needs Reality

Love needs reality. What is more terrible than the discovery that through a bodily appearance we have been loving an imaginary being. It is much more terrible than death, for death does not prevent the beloved from having lived.

That is the punishment for having fed love on imagination.

Simone Weil from Gravity and Grace

A similar thought is found in Roger Scruton’s study, Sexual Desire, where he observes that erotic love must be attached to a particular person. An exact copy of the person will not replace that person for the lover. We really love a person – an irreplaceable soul – not a thing that can be copied and replaced.

This same thread of thought is also found in Martin Buber’s profound mediation on the human condition I and Thou. Buber explores the dichotomy between these two approaches to the world:

The world is twofold for man in accordance with his twofold attitude.
The attitude of man is twofold in accordance with the two basic words he can speak.
The basic words are not single words but word pairs.
One basic world is the word pair I-You.
The other basic word is the word pair I-It; but this basic word is not changed when He or She takes the place of It.
Thus the I of man is also twofold.
For the I of the basic word I-You is different from that in the basic word I-It.

 From Martin Buber’s I and Thou

Buber does not deny that sometimes we do treat other people as ‘Its’ [or as Kant would put it – as means rather than ends] but Buber argues that our ability to see the ‘You’ in another person is essential to our moral nature. Without this ability to engage in a real I-You dialogue, to see in the other a reality which is equal to, or greater than, our own, then we become an empty vessel.

But we do lose touch with the reality of You. (A reality which is at its most profound and mysterious in our relationship with God – where any possibility of experiencing an ‘It’ is missing).

A profound choice lies before us. The grave possibility of human existence is that we lose touch with the personhood that is essential to love, and essential to our own sanity. We can simply feed on others, losing sight of the inherent dignity of the human person, and in the process we lose the grounds for our own moral dignity.

What we love truly is real. But we can corrupt love not just by failing to love, but by loving what is empty, what is unreal. At our worst we are tempted to love evils, shadows, fantasies and idols. But even when we love people, things or ideals we can still lose sight of their reality.

People turn into relationships; things become our possessions, and ideals are just values. And so our imagination obscures reality.

It is not God, love, personhood or the soul that are imaginary. These are the real things. Rather it is our imagination which can hollow out reality and replace it with things that are more convenient to the self – things that are much easier for us to face, to consume or live up to.

We are offered wine; but we can choose to drink only water.

Love is Born

Love is born
With a dark and troubled face,
When hope is dead
And in the most unlikely place;
Love is born,
Love is always born.

Love is born by Michael Leunig

Thanks as always to John O’Brien for sharing this Christmas poem.

Friendship and Love

In Greek, the word “fileo” means the love of friendship, tender but not all-encompassing; instead, the word “agapao” means love without reserve, total and unconditional. Jesus asks Peter the first time: “Simon… do you love me (agapas-me)” with this total and unconditional love?

Prior to the experience of betrayal, the Apostle certainly would have said “I love you (agapo-se) unconditionally.” Now that he has known the bitter sadness of infidelity, the drama of his own weakness, he says with humility: “Lord; you know that I love you (filo-se),” that is, “I love you with my poor human love.” Christ insists: “Simon, do you love me with this total love that I want?” And Peter repeats the response of his humble human love: “Kyrie, filo-se” – “Lord, I love you as I am able to love you.” The third time Jesus only says to Simon: “Fileis-me?” – “Do you love me?”

Simon understands that his poor love is enough for Jesus, it is the only one of which he is capable, nonetheless he is grieved that the Lord spoke to him in this way. He thus replies: “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you (filo-se).”

Pope Benedict XVI in The Apostles

This is an important passage and the analysis by Benedict XVI is very illuminating and it shows the value of careful attention to differences in language. Reliance on a particular translation – particularly if this is then converted into a literalist interpretation – is naive.

We also remember the wonderful four-fold analysis of Lewis in The Four Loves. Both Lewis and Benedict XVI both identify true Christian love with agape. Lewis argues that each of the other kinds of love is good, but that each of the lower forms of love, if it becomes exaggerated and loses the balance brought by obedience to virtue will become distorted.

  • Storge – affection can become obsessive and distorting, leading to prejudice.
  • Fileo – friendship can become clubbish, cliquish.
  • Eros – erotic love can be selfish and narcissistic.

For Lewis ‘agape’ is the ideal form of love, proper Christian love, which is universal, selfless and truthful. It does not exclude or dimish the other forms of love – it completes, balances and transforms them – this transformation can also require suffering.

But Benedict XVI makes the additional and necessary point – God will even accept the poorest versions of our love – he knows agape is often a stretch for human beings in all their weakness.

Christian Love (Agape)

“A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: even as I have loved you, that you also love one another.”

Where is the newness to which Jesus refers? It lies in the fact that he is not content with repeating what had already been requested in the Old Testament and which we also read in the other Gospels: “You shall love your neighbour as yourself.”

In the ancient precept the standard criterion was based on man (“as yourself”), whereas in the precept to which John refers, Jesus presents his own Person as the reason for and norm of our love: “as I have loved you.”

It is in this way that love becomes truly Christian: both in the sense that it must be directed to all without distinction, and above all since it must be carried through to its extreme consequences, having no other bounds than being boundless.

Those words of Jesus, “As I have loved you” simultaneously invite and disturb us; they are a Christological goal that can appear unattainable, but at the same time they are an incentive that does not allow us to ensconce ourselves in what we have been able to achieve. It does not allow us to be content with what we are but spurs us to keep advancing towards this goal.

Benedict XVI from The Apostles

The absurdity, the impossibility and the boundlessness of this Christian conception of love (agape) is disturbing.

We want something more sensible.

But what we want and what we need are two different things.

One aspect of this absurdity is the way in which love drives confronts the injustices that many civilisations simply take for granted. Slavery, apartheid, racism, discrimination and all forms of exploitation are quite natural. Power seeks to extend itself – how else could it be power. The self seeks to look after itself – how could it do otherwise.

Yet love does challenge injustice – love denies that these natural inequalities must simply be accepted – love is always seeking for a new Jerusalem, even amidst the ruins, confusions and complexities of the present.

The Paradoxical Commandments

People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered.
Love them anyway.

If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.
Do good anyway.

If you are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies.
Succeed anyway.

The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow.
Do good anyway.

Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable.
Be honest and frank anyway.

The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds.
Think big anyway.

People favor underdogs but follow only top dogs.
Fight for a few underdogs anyway.

What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight.
Build anyway.

People really need help but may attack you if you do help them.
Help people anyway.

Give the world the best you have and you’ll get kicked in the teeth.
Give the world the best you have anyway.

[© Copyright Kent M. Keith 1968, renewed 2001]

I came across these words in the brilliant song “Anyway” by Maggie and Suzzy Roche – although they don’t credit the author who (with a little investigation) turns out to be Dr Keith M Keith. I find them inspiring and helpful – especially on those days when you are feeling a little ‘misunderstood’ or hurt.

The song “Anyway” does not use the words of all of the Paradoxical Commandments – but it contains an additional and lovely final verse:

You see, in the final analysis,
it is between you and God;
It was never between you and them anyway

Justice and Charity

Christ does not call his benefactors loving or charitable. He calls them just. The Gospel makes no distinction between the love of our neighbour and justice. In the eyes of the Greeks also a respect for Zeus the suppliant was the first duty of justice. We have invented the distinction between justice and charity. It is easy to understand why. Our notion of justice dispenses him who possesses from the obligation of giving. If he gives, all the same, he thinks he has a right to be pleased with himself. He thinks he has done good work. As for him who receives, it depends on the way he interprets this notion whether he is dispensed from all gratitude, or whether it obliges him to offer servile thanks.

Only the absolute identification of justice and love makes the co-existence possible of compassion and gratitude on the one hand, and on the other, of respect for the dignity of affliction in the afflicted – a respect felt by the sufferer himself and the others.

It has to be recognised that no kindness can go further than justice without constituting a fault under a false appearance of kindness. But the just must be thanked for being just, because justice is so beautiful a thing, in the same way we thank God because of his great glory. Any other gratitude is servile and even animal.

Simone Weil from Forms of the Implicit Love of God in Waiting on God

Many of us are suspicious of charity, because it is a kind of patronage where the giver is powerful and the recipient is powerless; the giver is to be thanked and the recipient is pitiable. Weil sees the same problem, but also from the direction of charity itself. If charity is an act of love then it must be welcomed – for love is the lifeblood of the universe. It is central to our proper nature – however when we split charity away from justice trouble begins: the recipient is no longer entitled – as a matter of justice – to what we give. Our giving comes from being extra-nice – the bounty of the rich and powerful.

However some worry about giving too much priority to justice, to rights and obligations. They worry that this is to cut love out of the picture. How can love be about rights and duties?

Another interesting quote from Dorothy Leigh Sayers approaches this same problem:

The creative will presses on to Its end, regardless of what It may suffer by the way. It does not choose suffering, but It will not avoid it, and must expect it. We say that It is Love, and “sacrifices” Itself for what It loves; and this is true, provided we understand what we mean by sacrifice. Sacrifice is what it looks like to other people, but to That-which-Loves I think its does not appear so. When one really cares, the self-is forgotten, and the sacrifice becomes only part of the activity. Ask yourself: If there is something you supremely want to do, do you count as “self-sacrifice” the difficulties encountered or other possible activities cast aside? You do not. The time when you deliberately say, “I must sacrifice this, that or the other” is when you do not supremely desire the end in view. At such times you are doing your duty, and that is admirable, but it is not love. But as soon as your duty becomes your love “self-sacrifice” is taken for granted, and, whatever the world calls it, you call it so no longer.

Dorothy Leigh Sayers from What Do We Believe, Unpopular Opinions (1940)

I think Sayers observation helps us see that love only becomes a matter of mere duty when it no longer drives us. We are merely ‘doing our duty.’ But whether from love or duty the right remains the same. The person for whom we act is fully entitled to our assistance – but we won’t notice that entitlement because we act from love.

Justice remains central. It stops us from patronising those who need our help – their needs create entitlements and we have no right to feel pleased with ourselves for doing our duty. But it does not exclude love – we can do our duty and yet have no awareness that we are merely doing our duty. It remains our duty, even when we act from love.

Love Overcomes Self-sacrifice

The creative will presses on to Its end, regardless of what It may suffer by the way. It does not choose suffering, but It will not avoid it, and must expect it. We say that It is Love, and “sacrifices” Itself for what It loves; and this is true, provided we understand what we mean by sacrifice. Sacrifice is what it looks like to other people, but to That-which-Loves I think its does not appear so. When one really cares, the self-is forgotten, and the sacrifice becomes only part of the activity. Ask yourself: If there is something you supremely want to do, do you count as “self-sacrifice” the difficulties encountered or other possible activities cast aside? You do not. The time when you deliberately say, “I must sacrifice this, that or the other” is when you do not supremely desire the end in view. At such times you are doing your duty, and that is admirable, but it is not love. But as soon as your duty becomes your love “self-sacrifice” is taken for granted, and, whatever the world calls it, you call it so no longer.

 Dorothy Leigh Sayers, from What Do We Believe? (1940) in Unpopular Opinions

Sayers rightly outlines the vital relationship between love and duty. Morality is simply the clothes that love must wear in a world where love is not inevitable.

From Caring Comes Courage

…the most important term of Taoism: Tz’u, which can be translated “caring” or “compassion” and which is based upon the character for heart.

In the sixty-seventh chapter of the Tao Te Ching, Lao Tzu named it as his “first treasure,” and then wrote, “from caring comes courage.”

We might add that from it also comes wisdom. It’s rather significant, we think, that those who have no compassion have no wisdom. Knowledge, yes; cleverness, maybe; wisdom, no. A clever mind is not a heart. Knowledge doesn’t really care. Wisdom does. We also consider it significant that cor, the Latin word for “heart,” is the basis for the word courage.

 Benjamin Hoff from the Tao of Pooh

Philosophers also use the word ‘will’. Wisdom encompasses the moral understanding which is the business of understanding what we should do – what is right. And what is at the heart of the will if it is not love – or for Hoff – caring. I must care about something if I am going to stand up for something and that love or care is not produced by factual knowledge or intricate reasoning – it is a matter of the heart.

Taxing Love

You can’t redistribute love. 

Love is the most important thing in life. It is what keeps us strong, makes great children and build good citizens.

The government cannot take away someone else’s love and use it on other people. Love is bound up with real human relationships, commitments and families.

However, while the government cannot redistribute love it can tax love and often does so in ways that are highly damaging. In the UK system we find love taxed in many ways:

  • If you are in poverty and live together then you lose benefits
  • A family where one partner is working loses the tax allowances of the non-working partner
  • If you need care or support you are often deemed ineligible if you have family in your life

So we punish people for love, impose taxes on families, means-test family strength. For example, disabled people have sometimes found social workers encouraging them to get a divorce in order to be entitled to higher levels of benefits or social care.

The design of the current tax-benefit system is anti-love – it punishes and penalises people for being in relationships and it incentivises family breakdown. The answer is not to reduce benefits but to design a system that does not punish love.

Brokered by Love

Happiness and virtue are brokered by love.

In moral philosophy there is a significant divide between:

  • Those who think morality has a purpose – telos – or 
  • Those who believe moral action is just about doing the right thing – with no reference to a goal.

In my Phd thesis I have argued at length that the moral understanding cannot be reduced to either perspective, that it is ultimately founded in our experience of duty, but that duties reaches out to virtue both in its respect for rights, but also in its desire for the good.

However another way of looking at this dilemma is much easier.

Think about bringing up your child. You want your child to be happy (and this can have many meanings) and you want your child to be good (and this can have many meanings). But what is the exercise of loving your child if it is not the effort of reconciling these two objectives. The paradoxical hope of true love is that our children will live long and contented lives but that they become the kind of people who know when they must sacrifice themselves for the sake of others.

Only love, not empty rationality, can reconcile this paradox.

© 2017 Simon Duffy

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