When I came home for lunch yesterday, John had the news on, and I watched a bit of a demonstration on the National Mall in support of Israel in the war against Hamas. As I was listening to the reporter describe the scene, he was mentioning the different people who were there from all over the country. Then, he described a man who was there to support Israel, but who also had a sign that was critical of Prime Minister Netanyahu [he didn’t show the sign, so I don’t know what it said]. And, apparently, this man was challenged by others in the crowd for having that sign. To which the reporter said something like, “This just illustrates the difficulty of expressing nuanced opinions.”
I thought, “Wow, that’s pretty much where we are as a country, isn’t it?” Certainly any attempt to express nuance around the war in Israel/Palestine has been challenging, as many public officials are finding out who have made public statements on the war. Many institutional leaders have issued what obviously seemed to them to be very reasoned statements, only to have those statements received with vitriol and even hatred, insisting that they are showing disproportionate favoritism to one side or the other.
Is it possible to pray for those in the Gaza hospitals who are without energy and ways to care for dying patients, and hope that Israel is able to root out any terror cells that might be holed up beneath those same hospitals? Is it possible to be critical of Israel’s policies around Palestine and Gaza and support Israel in their military efforts to protect their borders and their people–and get the hostages back safely?
And, more importantly, as we express our opinions, are we willing to take the time to listen to other views than our own? Are we willing to be educated beyond what we already know and believe? Are we willing to be wrong, and to admit we don’t know what is best, or even what is right?
This is, of course, an especially fraught situation, which immediately surfaces decades–if not centuries–of hostilities, mistrust, and strong [oh so strong] emotions. But, it is not unique. There are lots of situations that we respond to viscerally, almost instinctively: rehearsing old arguments we have heard or made before, and refusing to admit the possibility of any new information, any nuance. Whether we like it or not, the fact is that two things can be true at once. Two different opinions can be right. Two different narratives can be compelling.
I know the gray and purple place of nuance can be a little scary. The ground doesn’t feel quite as solid under our feet, and the walls don’t feel as secure. And those feelings are accurate: the place of nuance is more open, more dynamic, more fluid, but that is also where all the growth happens. That is where we meet new people, welcome new ideas, and build new bridges. It is where we become new people, and where we, together, become a new growing and learning community.
What would this country be like, what could we accomplish, if we aspired to live in the land of nuance, and welcomed others to live there with us?
Happy Lutheran 