Protest

"Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances." - First amendment to the US Constitution

The first time, I ever remember being in a situation where an organized protest directly impacted me occurred when I was studying abroad in the UK. The teachers union was on strike for higher, more fair, wages and they picket-lined around the edges of the school, in front of our classrooms, and threatened not to grade our work, if they weren't granted their requests. To have my professors semi-blocking my way into the classroom was a new experience. Since then, I've been privy to that experience several other times (living in DC, working at UNC, living in Boston, etc).

Earlier this week, I found myself again in that situation. Protesters shouted their views, threw fliers in our faces, and pounded on windows, doors, and other objects. Their passion was admirable. Their perspective was certainly worth listening to. They certainly caught my attention with their strategy. But ultimately, their method was ineffective and counter-productive. It made me want to listen to them less.

In that moment, I was reminded of the "Jesus or going-to-hell-fire-and-damnation" street preachers that I dislike so much. While the two groups would never sit down and have tea and crumpets and light and frivolous conversation together, in that moment, they were surprisingly similar. They both sounded angry. They both yell. They get in your face. And ultimately, both of their success rates are relatively low.

What is it in us that turns us into creatures when we feel like our beliefs are being threatened or challenged? Or when we encounter someone of a different ideology that cannot co-exist with ours? Where does tolerance go then?

Shame on us, if we, supposedly one of the most tolerant societies in the world, have rendered a situation in which both the religious right and the secular left, both liberal evangelicals, and secular conservatives feel that they cannot, will not, be listened to as intellectuals and individuals, rationally presenting their cases.

Shame on us, if our understanding of truth is so weak that having someone else disagree with it, creates huge fear and anger. If something is true, it stands, regardless of how many people disown it or disagree with it. Defensiveness often times comes out of fear, not freedom in truth. Truth is bigger than disagreement. We should stand on that, not lash back.

Shame on us, if our tolerance has in fact weakened our ability to care for others well. Someone once said, "For all our tolerance and talk, we have lost our generosity and willingness to help. We do not minister, but we applaud. We have lost our ability to care and have compassion in order to have open tolerance for anything."

Shame on us, if our personal vendetta against a belief or lifestyle or choices has led us to lack enough compassion for the persuade them in a way that they can actually hear.

Shame on us.

Don't get me wrong; I think freedom of speech is great. And I think there are times for righteous anger, turning over the temple tables, so to speak. I think there have been plenty of times in our history in which protest has brought about good and holy change. I think it's a valuable tool in a democratic society. But at the same time, we have to think about our methods:

What is most effective? What is most persuasive? What actually cares for people well? What moves people in healthy directions? What creates good and holy social and personal change?

I don't pretend to have all the answers. I don't know what the most effective method is... I'm just offering a healthy rhetorical challenge to the status quo in this particular situation.