On the other hand…

“You might be immobilized for five or six weeks,” my doctor said.

Ugh.

The possibility of not being able to use of my dominant hand for that length of time struck a chord of fear in this pessimist’s heart.

But my shoulder needed repair so I scheduled it—despite the potential downtime. (I had a similar surgery on my left shoulder about 10 years ago, the hilarious precursor to which I shared here.)

The good news: The surgery is now behind me and I had a better outcome than anticipated—I’m already in rehab.

The bad news: I still don’t have full use of my right/dominant arm.

While I can use my phone and can type when my laptop is literally in my lap, I can’t comfortably use my arm at anything above elbow-height. That means I still need a good bit of help with things like grooming and household chores.

Mealtimes have proven to be particularly instructive for me. Using my left hand to eat has required me to slow down and think deliberately about what I’m doing. It’s felt foreign. Awkward. Sometimes frustrating. (Looking at you, shredded carrots.)

But it’s been good for me in a variety of ways: the digestive benefits of eating more slowly and the cognitive boost that comes from using my non-dominant hand for everyday skills. Of greater significance, though, it has reminded me to apply the same principle to my thinking and opinions.

While recent research suggests we’re not as divided as a country as the popular narrative describes (though the study does indicate that unity has been declining in recent decades), many of us feel tension and division in our personal relationships and in our churches. Relationships are fractured. People feel isolated. We’re injuring one another with our strongly-held opinions.

Part of the remedy to our schism is learning how to look at things from the vantage point of the other.

This requires us to practice both empathy (the act of imagining and responding to what it might be like to walk in the shoes of another person—or to eat with their hand?) and curiosity about why they think the way they do.

When you find yourself angered or disgusted by a social media post or being offended or hurt by an opinion shared by the person across the table from you, start by asking yourself (internally) the following question:

Why would a rational person hold that belief/position?

Assume that those in the “other” camp are intelligent, caring human beings who have simply arrived at a different conclusion than yourself by merit of their experiences or priorities. (If your immediate response to this question is “a rational person wouldn’t,” then you really haven’t embraced either empathy or curiosity. 😂) I’ve found that most people care about the same things but prioritize them differently or disagree on the approach even though we’re striving for the same outcome.

After asking ourselves this question internally, we’ll better engage with others outwardly.

I’ve often told my kids that they’re entitled to their initial opinion on any subject, but that until they can argue effectively for the alternative opinion (as an exercise), their understanding of the subject matter is insufficient for holding that opinion dogmatically. I can’t help but wonder how different our public discourse would be if we all held ourselves to that standard.

As Christians, we are rightly committed to the pursuit of truth and should earnestly seek to uphold the principles we find in the Bible. I’m not suggesting we compromise our beliefs. Nor am I suggesting we will achieve uniformity in the ways our beliefs manifest in our choices and lives (after, all the Body is made beautiful and effective by its diversity; 1 Corinthians 12:14-20).

Rather, what I am advocating for is an equally diligent commitment to upholding the Biblical values of humility, compassion, and unity (Colossians 3:12-14). We won’t have Christian unity with those who aren’t following Jesus, but we can always engage with humility and compassion. As Christians, our unity is essential to shared life in the Body and to our witness to the world.

Just as eating with my left hand has required me to slow down, think deliberately, and embrace the toddler-like awkwardness of learning to use a fork, this posture of empathy and curiosity isn’t easy. It’s humbling and sometimes frustrating. But I, for one, want to have a teachable heart—after all, Jesus’ harshest words were directed at the self-righteous, not the immoral (Matthew 21:32). I am willing to allow God to use others—even (and sometimes especially) those who think differently than me—to show me how He is at work in His creation, using the gifts, passions and perspectives He’s given to them to accomplish His will through the Body.

Being willing to “eat with the other hand” might just make gathering together around a table a richer experience—one that nourishes us in body, mind, and spirit.

Posted in Faith, Friendship and tagged 1 Corinthians 12, Colossians 3, Matthew 21