Malicious or Selfish?
My friend is suing his next door neighbor... his cousin.
He says his dog repeatedly wanders into his yard and ‘causes problems’ - which include digging holes in his lawn, terrorizing his cats, and depositing substantial amounts of excrement in very inconvenient places.
His attempts to solve the problem have gone nowhere, in fact he’s convinced that his cousin is taking great pleasure in inflicting such distress. This keeps him up at night and fuels his rising blood pressure.
It’s not hard to see where this is going: first the cops, then the lawyers, maybe a fence, possibly relocation.
One way around this is to attempt the empathetic exercise of suspecting that our opponent is rarely malicious, but usually selfish - and perhaps even unconsciously so.
Consider my friend’s cousin as someone who is convinced he's a good neighbor and a superior pet owner who, unlike other dog minders, gives his pet the freedom to roam the neighborhood, and fully expects those around him to allow a dog to be a dog, and look with grace and charity to one of God’s creatures and his natural habits.
In fact, very rarely do people consider themselves tormentors or afflicters, rather our inherent self-centeredness, which allows us to be more aware of what people are doing to us than what we are doing to others, is at fault.
On Sunday we will hear the apostle Paul say, "Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others.” (Philippians 2)
Our lizard brains constantly tempt us to think less of others, take misunderstandings as sleights, and find offense where no offense is intended. Self-centeredness, not maliciousness, is what’s most commonly to blame for the run-ins, cut-offs, and harsh disagreements we routinely encounter.
Thus, our faith asks us: How might we live more deeply into the generosity of spirit and the willingness to try to understand, and perhaps think more positively of our opponent? What might an empathetic exercise with our enemy look like? How might we envision selfishness - not maliciousness - as the cause of our pain?
Thus, our faith asks us: How might we live more deeply into the generosity of spirit and the willingness to try to understand, and perhaps think more positively of our opponent? What might an empathetic exercise with our enemy look like? How might we envision selfishness - not maliciousness - as the cause of our pain?
