A wise man will never impawn his future being and action, and decide beforehand what he shall do in a given extreme event. Nature and God will instruct him in that hour.
~Ralph Waldo Emerson
"Sam, would you ever (...)?" I took another bite of sushi and paused for a moment to consider the question. Would I ever? Well I haven't yet and probably won't, but my response (a surprise even to myself) flowed out automatically. "I'm definitely capable of it," I said.
In another recent scene from my life, I received a message from an old friend who shared a YouTube video of a live performance of the song "Revolution" by the Beatles. In this particular version John Lennon added the word "in" softly before the chorus that proclaims "when you talk about destruction, don't you know that you can count me out (in)." Lennon later explained in an interview that he couldn't say whether or not he would always be opposed to destruction, but that he currently was. My friend commented that Lennon's "ability for a notable cultural icon of peace to make such a statement is so revolutionary, but yet is very sensible and honest..."
Last year in my peace and conflict studies graduate program in Northern Ireland, I too understood, perhaps for the first time, that I was capable of destruction. Capable of violence. Capable of genocide. As I sat through lectures on terrorism, war, and genocide and looked more closely at how societies entrenched in violent conflict reach the point where there are death camps, killing fields, and "necessary" wars, I remember distinctly coming to a point where I thought to myself with a pit in my stomach... I am capable of this. Not because I am a "bad" person but because I realized that the Germans in the 30's and 40's weren't somehow more inherently "bad" people and neither were the Conquistadors, Crusaders, slave traders, colonialists, imperialists, and oppressors of every kind in their hour of darkness. They made choices, series of choices, collective choices day to day, week to week, month to month and year to year that led them to a time where it was rational and justified to kill, maim, rape and pillage others in the name of various causes, often so-called righteous causes.
So even if it is true that I am capable of the most horrific of deeds, it is not to assert that I would inevitably carry out the extreme evils if given the chance. However, this is the crux of the matter-- nothing is inevitable. Our assumptions about the strength of our individual moral composition do not make them true. However, it is to assert that the same selfish, unkind, and bigoted compulsions that would cause me to say an unkind word, think an unkind thought, or turn away callously from another's suffering is the same drive that would arise and compel me towards more sinister deeds if left unchecked or unrecognized.
You might at this point protest my theory by saying, "But I really never would do such and such a thing!" My response would be, how do you know? What proof do you have to substantiate your claims? Even the past is no indication of what you will face in the future. What you think you know is a mere belief and perception of your Self (and often the most noble conception of Self at that). But are our best hopes for ourselves to be considered on par with reality? Are our fantasies of our heroic Self in a yet-to-be-realized future the closest we can come to the truth? What are the consequences of refusing to rid ourselves of these delusions? What is the alternative to holding onto these illusions?
Feeding these false constructions of Self prevents us from addressing our Self fully as we are right now. In the Christian New Testament, before Christ is crucified he tells his disciples that they will deny him. One of the disciples, Peter, vehemently denies this vowing to stand by his friend and teacher to his death. When he is asked in actuality to stand by Jesus, he denies him and the Bible says he wept bitterly in shame. Peter was humbled when he realized his best ideas about who he was as a person were a farce and that in order to move forward with his life and his work in love he had to acknowledge who he really was, as he was.
What is a possible alternative? John Lennon had the courage to distance himself from the magical thinking of believing he knew what he would think and how he would act for the rest of his life. I think maybe he understood that he was capable of destruction and it was for that reason that he consciously chose to oppose it in that moment. This seems to me to be a refreshing, honest, and humble approach to living out our lives. What do I believe? When I tell you, be suspicious. Look at how I am living and then you will know what it is that I hold dear.
When I was a child, I distinctly remember sitting through many sermons where the pastor or evangelist challenged the audience to consider whether or not we would withstand tortures of all kinds and die for the faith that each of us claimed at that time. The question typically hung in a heavy silence as each pondered a scenario where one would have to face such a decision. I cannot say what everyone else was going through internally, but at the time, I remember feeling that if I could somehow answer and truly believe that YES! I would become a martyr... that somehow I was a better person and a better Christian. Looking back on those times, it seems like such a misplaced inquiry, grounded in no actual reality and nothing more than a shallow shaming exercise meant to lead one to make false assertions and thus strengthen the religious identity.
However, I understand the benefit of imagining what you might or might not do in any given circumstance, or what you would have done differently if considering the past. But the primary value of such exercises is that it encourages reflection on who you are in the present moment. Such imaginings neither confirm nor deny what you would or would not actually do in the Present moment of the Future. Strip away the illusions of the Self in a future circumstance and what remains is the Self in this moment. Nothing less and nothing more. The reverse can also be stated, let go of the memory of Self in the past, and what is left is a Self who has come into this moment. Nothing less and nothing more.
What this means, then, is that at no moment are we able to stand in judgment of others if our moral high ground is leveled as we come to a deep understanding of our own capacity to do the same as another in the same circumstances. Even if we contemplate our day to day encounters, we might be more inclined to extend grace to an ungracious person because we know that we are not only capable but often culpable of the same.
So, this reflection ultimately has culminated into the realization that I do not need to construct false beliefs that I will be a hero and shun cowardice in a moment where courage is needed. The truth of the matter is, the closest I can come to being a hero is paying attention to right-thinking (orthodoxy) and right-doing (orthopraxy) RIGHT NOW. I can claim that I will act with courage in the hour that it is needed, but indulging in such a fantasy is ultimately worthless. This is Pride, the manifestation of ego, which declares to know the Self by dogmatically constructing an identity around an ideology and thus effectively avoiding true reflection and possible transformation.
Doing flows from being (or, the Do-er is an extension of the Be-er). How am I being in my life right now? What does what I do say about who I am?
We are capable of all things, but not culpable of all things and there is a fine line that runs between them. Realizing this precipitates the welcome death of a false charade of Self.
