Hi, everyone!
This is the third entry in a series regarding lessons I’ve learned through my relationship with my fiancé, Mike. The first week, I made a case that the 500th anniversary of the Protestant Reformation serves as a timely reminder to reform our beliefs and practices to reflect ever-richer understandings of truth. At the same time, however, it can remind us to be continuously re-forming ourselves into a unified body, even with people with whom we do not always agree. Last time, I discussed seven attitudinal approaches which I have learned I need to work on as I (a Protestant) continue to build a relationship with Mike (a Catholic).
This week, I am focusing on seven mistakes I either have made or could make as Mike and I discuss our religious differences.
8.) I need to not mistake the whole for the part.
While I know other Catholics, Mike is the first with whom I have spent so much time comparing notes, so to speak. This means that most of what I know about Catholicism is from him or from resources he passes on to me. I have to remind myself that his perspective, as well informed and rich as it is, is only one of many that make up Catholic experience. While there are some fundamental similarities in practice and belief throughout time and across cultures, there is an undeniable—and remarkable!—diversity in Catholicism as well. This means I need to remember to ask questions like, “What might other Catholics think about _____?” alongside ones like, “What do you think about _____?”, recognizing that they may yield different responses.
9.) I need to not mistake the part for the whole.
Just as Catholicism is more than Mike, Mike is more than Catholicism. This is so obvious, but I confess that in the midst of a debate about doctrine or practice, I can have remarkable tunnel vision. I can forget that the person in front of me is a person with ideas, not an idea posing as a person. Occasionally, when I am disagreeing with a particular concept in Catholicism, I find myself associating it so totally with Mike that he becomes an ideological position in my mind. I am learning that I need to be able to distinguish between, “I think Mike is wrong,” and “I think _____, which Mike believes, is wrong.” The former conflates Mike and the belief we are discussing while the latter acknowledges that there is more to him than this one position.
10.) I need to not forget that our relationship is bigger than any debate we may be having.
Mike and I talk about religion a fair amount. But we also don’t. We ride bikes, and go on walks, and tell jokes, and make dinner, and watch movies, and have thumb wars, and go on road trips, and go to concerts, and do any number of other things. And yet, in the middle of a disagreement, I can forget the rest of our relationship for a moment because I am so focused on my point.
A while ago, we were on a walk on a gorgeous fall day in one of Columbus’ awesome metro parks. As we went, we became embroiled in a debate about something or other. The further into the woods we got, the further we got into our disagreement. After some time, I could tell I was becoming tense and I realized I hadn’t been paying attention at all to our surroundings. So, I interrupted us and asked for a break. We looked up at the trees around us, and I tried to take a minute to breathe in the golden afternoon—as I stood in a beautiful place with a person I love. We eventually returned to the conversation but when we did, I was also able to be grateful for Mike’s commitment to spending time in nature with me.
11.) I need to not speak for him.
Last week, I wrote that part of truly listening to Mike involves me being able to articulate his position on an issue. While I do think this can help me get a handle on his ideas, I cannot assume that I am always accurately expressing what he would say. I need to check in with him often, making sure that I’m getting his position right. For instance, before posting these blogs, I ask Mike to read over them and I make revisions based on his feedback as I attempt to better capture his reasoning, wording, and tone when I convey his ideas.
12.) I need to not assume Mike is thinking and feeling the same things I am.
We are on the same page about most things, but we will always be two different people with two distinct personalities, perspectives, and experiences in the world. And as much as we can try to understand how the other is thinking or feeling, this will never be fully possible.
One major difference between us is how we think about the future. I consider it emotionally as well as logistically, experiencing emotions about events or upcoming changes long before they actually happen. Mike plans logistically but deals emotionally with events as they happen. I admire this approach and am trying to adopt it, but for now, I need to keep in mind that he may not be currently experiencing the same anxiety, grief, or frustration I may have about a particular aspect of the future. This doesn’t mean he won’t eventually feel these things or that he doesn’t care. It is essential, though, that we realize we’re coming from different places.
The players on a doubles tennis team work together and are usually even facing the same direction, but they experience the game from different positions. Mike and I are on the same team, facing the same direction, but inevitably experience our life together through our distinct perspectives.
[An important and related aside: these twenty lessons I am sharing here—including the mistakes—are ones that I have experienced. There is undoubtedly some overlap in his experience of our relationship, but I am speaking for myself in these blog posts, not for him. If you are curious about his take on any of this, you can ask him!]
13.) I need to not assume Mike is thinking and feeling something different from me.
I have come to realize that I have a paradoxical task during conversations with Mike. I have to remember that disagreements may arise because we are thinking differently about a topic and because we are thinking similarly about it. Sometimes, it seems, we are arguing the same thing but this is hard to see because we are doing so from our different perspectives.
One example came up during our discussions of the Reformation. It was only after revisiting this topic many times that I saw that Mike and I were both speaking about our respective traditions as the original faith. Catholics might see themselves as the most authentic expression of Christianity because they had been around for hundreds of years before the birth of Protestantism and because they believe the leadership of the Catholic Church can be traced back to the original Twelve Apostles. Protestants, on the other hand, might see themselves as being closer to the original Christian message because they rejected some Catholic practices and doctrines that had developed over time in order to return to what they believe is a truer vision of Christianity found in the Bible. Mike and I may not agree on what, exactly, we think God’s original vision for His church is, but through these conversations, we demonstrated that we both want to be as close to it as possible. These kind of reminders are essential because they help me remember that Mike and I want the same things for ourselves and the world.
14.) I need to not be emotionally binary.
Emotions can be powerful things. They can overrule thoughts, instincts, and even other emotions. Just as I need to remember that Mike is more than his Catholicism, I need to remember that I feel more than one thing about him. My feelings change over time, sure. That’s not hard for me (or anyone around me!) to recognize. A much harder challenge is to try to feel more than one emotion about Mike at a time. Rather than being happy, then mad, then happy again—a sort of emotional binary—I am trying to experience multiple sentiments simultaneously. Even in the midst of a tense discussion, when feelings of anger or frustration arise, can I recall—not just intellectually but also emotionally—the other feelings I have about Mike? Not often, to be sure. But when I can, I am operating out of a more holistic understanding of our relationship.
Over the past year or so, I have made most, if not all of these mistakes, and I am sure I will make them again. But spelling them out helps me be aware of my tendency to slip into these habits.
Next time, I’ll conclude this “mini-series” with some of the ways I’ve been challenged to live in a loving relationship in which not everything can be neatly resolved. Until then, and if you have a moment, consider asking yourself what habits you have needed to break in your relationships in order to live well with someone with whom you do not always agree.
Have a good week!
Sarah/Mouse
