The Riches of a Learning Life
This week I read William Manchester's Controversy and Other Essays in Journalism 1950-1975. It is hampered by a ponderous title and his need to unload publicly an otherwise understandable literary grudge against Jacqueline Kennedy. Still, his dealings with those of superior stuff and status do yield some insight for the rest of us. "Rich families," he diagnosis evenhandedly after intimate involvement with the Kennedys and others, "are not happier, but they have a clear concept of the source of happiness and unhappiness. Unlike the rest of us, they cannot blame whatever disarray there is in their personal lives on the lack of ways and means."
The outsized power Manchester sees given to blame and resentment, even as he yields to some of it himself, is worth considering as we come up for air. Such embittering or defensive forces are even at work in the privileged environs of the idealized Oval Office on The West Wing. With enough wealth that the President is sure his family wouldn't miss his government salary, President Bartlett still feels his PhD in economics is being judged by a room full of lawyers. His Chief of Staff meets any monetary requirement for life's inner circle, but instead feels a suspicion toward Sir John Marbury. He would rather look for solutions elsewhere than deal with the eccentricities of the titled rich that accompany Marbury's education, experience, and expertise relevant to the problem at hand.
The galvanizing power of a suspicion of the elites is older still. There may be some of it motivating the crowds that followed Jesus in Luke 14, where I have also been spending some time. Jesus questions the priorities of someone rich enough to buy a field without seeing it (verse 18), and another story stand-in rich enough to buy five pairs of oxen in the next verse. As resentment boosts ratings in any age, Luke 14:25's reminder that a large crowd followed Jesus after this sendup is not surprising. What Jesus does with His increasing influence among the masses in Luke's unfolding narrative is startling to any polarized age. Searching for a picture of commitment with which to caution those who may be following Him out of temporary fascination, Jesus says, "For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not sit down first and count the cost, whether he has enough to finish it." (Verse 28) You would be wise, He continues in verse 31 to a crowd that doesn't include a crowned head, to be LIKE a king preparing for battle. Jesus can use the tonier set, fairly defined as those who have what we do not, to show an absence of biblical priorities. He can also use them to exemplify virtues.
Do we limit the examples from whom we are willing to learn to those like us in every superficial respect? If so, is this simply a failure of imagination, an inability to see God's image stamped on rich and poor, old and young, educated and unsophisticated alike? Or, is there a more actively self-serving dynamic at work? Do we refuse to learn from those who are different from us because we like having our resentments to nurse, like having a default excuse for our source of happiness or unhappiness?
The outsized power Manchester sees given to blame and resentment, even as he yields to some of it himself, is worth considering as we come up for air. Such embittering or defensive forces are even at work in the privileged environs of the idealized Oval Office on The West Wing. With enough wealth that the President is sure his family wouldn't miss his government salary, President Bartlett still feels his PhD in economics is being judged by a room full of lawyers. His Chief of Staff meets any monetary requirement for life's inner circle, but instead feels a suspicion toward Sir John Marbury. He would rather look for solutions elsewhere than deal with the eccentricities of the titled rich that accompany Marbury's education, experience, and expertise relevant to the problem at hand.
The galvanizing power of a suspicion of the elites is older still. There may be some of it motivating the crowds that followed Jesus in Luke 14, where I have also been spending some time. Jesus questions the priorities of someone rich enough to buy a field without seeing it (verse 18), and another story stand-in rich enough to buy five pairs of oxen in the next verse. As resentment boosts ratings in any age, Luke 14:25's reminder that a large crowd followed Jesus after this sendup is not surprising. What Jesus does with His increasing influence among the masses in Luke's unfolding narrative is startling to any polarized age. Searching for a picture of commitment with which to caution those who may be following Him out of temporary fascination, Jesus says, "For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not sit down first and count the cost, whether he has enough to finish it." (Verse 28) You would be wise, He continues in verse 31 to a crowd that doesn't include a crowned head, to be LIKE a king preparing for battle. Jesus can use the tonier set, fairly defined as those who have what we do not, to show an absence of biblical priorities. He can also use them to exemplify virtues.
Do we limit the examples from whom we are willing to learn to those like us in every superficial respect? If so, is this simply a failure of imagination, an inability to see God's image stamped on rich and poor, old and young, educated and unsophisticated alike? Or, is there a more actively self-serving dynamic at work? Do we refuse to learn from those who are different from us because we like having our resentments to nurse, like having a default excuse for our source of happiness or unhappiness?
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