Hi, everyone!
Last week, in recognition of the 500th anniversary of the Protestant Reformation, I wrote about how my understanding of this monumental shift in Christian history has changed since being with Mike, my fiancé. I discussed how I’ve been challenged to think about reformation as being about reforming practice and doctrine and about re-forming ourselves into one body.
Over the next few weeks, I’m going to share twenty different lessons I’ve learned by being with Mike. He is both a person whom I love so much that I’m willing to spend my life with him and a person with whom I sometimes disagree due to our different Christian cultures and beliefs. We both love talking and learning about religion and we are finding that the frequent conversations about our differences are helping us grow intellectually and spiritually. We are also learning about how to be in relationship with someone when you don’t always find perfect consensus. My hope is that these twenty lessons might have wider application for us all as we continue to try to live alongside people who don’t always share our worldviews or beliefs.
This week, I am focusing on seven lessons I’ve learned about my attitudinal approach to being in a relationship with Mike.
1.) I need to foster and demonstrate curiosity.
As the daughter of a journalist and as a teacher, I have long known that questions are my love language. If someone takes the time to ask me a question about my life, they demonstrate that they care enough about me to want to know me better.
That said, not all questions are created equal. A question can be well worded and intellectually stimulating, but if it is not coupled with authentic curiosity, I will take it as a display of verbal prowess rather than an attempt to truly learn about me. Questions, in other words, can be both selfish and selfless.
I have learned that I need to ask Mike questions about Catholicism in ways that show I am genuinely interested in what he and the Catholic Church has to say about a matter. This means asking open-ended questions. It means saying things like, “Tell me about the Catholic view of _____,” rather than, “How could Catholics believe _____?” It means asking for examples of what he is describing so I can better understand his points. It means continuously checking—and recalibrating—my motivations when asking him about his beliefs.
2.) I need to constantly try to see Mike’s perspective.
Being curious about Mike’s point of view is not enough. I need to also attempt, as best I can, to see the world from his point of view. This is hard; he and I will always view the world differently. But if I am going to try to live and build a life with someone who believes some things I do not and who doesn’t believe some things I do, I need to try to imagine what it would be like to see life from his set of experiences and his personality and his belief system.
I am lucky because I spend my life surrounded by stories, which help build my empathetic imagination muscles. But, especially when we are dealing with a topic I feel very strongly about, I need more than the practice I’ve had. I have found that there are some specific things which I can do to help me get a sense of his perspective:
a.) I can ask him further questions to clarify his point. This is obvious, perhaps, but essential. For example, we have talked a lot about the Catholic practice of going to a priest for confession, as opposed to confessing to God either individually or corporately during a service (which both Protestants and Catholics do). During these discussions, I can ask what confessing to a priest is like for him. Even if I am not convinced that I should change my practices, I can at least try to understand why his are so important to him.
b.) I can ask other Catholics I know about their take on the matter. At times, a fresh perspective or even a simple change of wording helps me grasp a concept I was struggling with.
c.) I can look online when I’m on my own. This has been a particularly helpful trick for me, and I often find myself googling, “Why do Catholics believe _____?” Mike can’t be expected to fully explain his complex beliefs on the spot, just as I couldn’t with mine. Looking for articulations of his perspective online helps me to encounter a variety of explanations of a particular belief with incredible efficiency. If, after doing so, I still disagree with the perspectives I’m encountering, this method also allows me to have emotional or intellectual reactions in solitude rather than with Mike. I don’t hide those reactions from Mike, of course, but I can sort through them and tell him about them when I’m calmer. (For the record, I certainly don’t attempt to keep my emotions from Mike; I just want to be sure that I truly am approaching something he loves dearly with respectful curiosity rather than antagonism or anger.)
3.) I need to truly listen.
So much of the time when I think I’m listening to Mike (or anyone, for that matter!), I’m not. I may be hearing what he is saying. I may even be able to repeat what he said. But can I articulate his position to someone else? Can I explain not just his words but his argument or perspective? Even if I fully disagree with everything he says, can I at least understand why he is saying it? This is a humbling and constantly challenging task. But without an ability to truly listen to each other (and opportunities to demonstrate that we have done so), we will not feel respected or heard. Our words will be ships passing in the night rather than two ends of an oar pulling a kayak in a single (albeit possibly as-yet-unknown) direction.
4.) I need to assume the best in Mike, trusting that he is saying something worth saying.
Like most humans, I don’t always say what I mean on my first try. I stumble and say the wrong thing or forget to say something crucial. So I know as well as anyone that someone might need a bit of time to hash out what they’re trying to say, especially with something as complicated and deeply rooted as religion. When Mike makes a point that seems irrational or even offensive to me, I have to try to remember the bigger picture. Normally he makes a lot of sense to me and he never wants to offend me; I have to assume that he is making sense from his perspective, even if I don’t yet understand how.
5.) I need to focus on my love for him and his love for me before and more than any attempts at persuasion.
Both Mike and I enjoy a hearty debate from time to time, and especially when it comes to issues we have discussed before, we have moved beyond an initial curiosity into solid disagreement. He believes he is right and will bring whatever arguments and resources he can to the issue, and I, believing I am right, do the same. But I have to remind myself before, during, and after these debates, that our love for each other is bigger than any point one or the other of us might think we’ve won. Again, like many of these lessons, this is so obvious, but heated debate has a way of distracting us from our priorities.
6.) I need to have a sense of humor.
Disagreement, by its very nature, is often quite tense. It is serious and passionate. And yet, as in a Shakespearean tragedy, some lighthearted comic relief can go a long way. We don’t always get this right: I have a strong sense of sarcasm which isn’t always charitable, and Mike tends to speak in hyperbole which I often mistake for his actual opinions about a matter. But our attempts at humor are still worthwhile because they provide points of agreement (we both think this joke was funny), opportunities to serve the other (I will take up your bid to be funny and laugh), and reminders that any disagreement we are having is probably not ultimately as important as it might seem in that given moment.
7.) I need to be grateful for our disagreements.
One of the first things that brought Mike and me together was our interest in religion, and most of our first conversations involved faith to one degree or another. So as frustrated or even angry as I might be in a disagreement, I try to remember how rare it is to find someone who is not only invested in his faith, but also wants to talk about it as much as I do. In other words, I am so thankful that I have someone with whom I can disagree so vehemently and so frequently! While they are not the only factor in our relationship, these conversations are instrumental in forming us into the individuals and couple we are. Just as I am grateful for difficult periods in my life that have shaped my moral, relational, social, and spiritual growth, I am grateful for discussions that challenge me to think beyond the comfort of my own (sometimes unexamined) beliefs.
I should be clear: while I am learning that these attitudinal characteristics can be helpful, I am far from being able to embody any of them on a regular basis. I see them as goals, not as descriptors of my habits or character. Also, while I’ll talk more about this in the coming weeks, it’s important to emphasize here: Mike and I have much more in common than not. In fact, our frequent conversations about minor religious differences are possible (and enjoyable!) only because we are already on the same page about so many other things.
Next time, I’ll discuss seven mistakes I have made or continue to make in relationship with Mike as we continue to work toward unity without uniformity. For now, I’ll simply end with a challenge: what attitudinal shift can you make regarding someone with whom you disagree?
Have a good week!
Sarah/Mouse
