Completing The Different Drum

I finished M. Scott Peck's The Different Drum: Community Making and Peace.

My latest reading had a few paradoxes, even if Peck may not classify them as such.  He wants for groups to be inclusive, even politically, for he states that a Democrat seeking to form a group should include Republicans.  Yet, Peck wants for churches to take a bold stand against the arms race, which would probably alienate Republicans.  Peck is insistent that one should not leave a group, claiming that community is fostered when people stick with each other and work out their differences.  Yet, Peck earlier in the book tells the story about how he disappointed his parents by deciding not to continue his enrollment at an exclusive private school, choosing to go instead to another school, where he found genuine acceptance. This brought out the best in him.

I sympathize with Peck's emphasis on the importance of community, for I believe that, when people know each other, empathize with each other, value each other, and are open to learning from each other, things can be better than they would be otherwise.  But I myself would have difficulty participating in a number of communities, to tell you the truth.  Working through my differences with other human beings is sometimes easy for me, and sometimes it's not.  In my younger years, I one time wrote a letter to a leader of a group I was in detailing my problems with him, and he reprimanded me for not telling him about this stuff before----for not telling him at the time of his offensive behavior that he was acting inappropriately.  But it's not easy for me to process on the spot what my problem is with a person or a situation, and then to come up with the words to express my concern.  Moreover, unfortunately, I'm somewhat of a "don't rock the boat" sort of person, so I have an approach that Peck calls "pseudocommunity", which is different from open, honest community.  One reason is that I want for people to like me.  Another is that I fear starting an argument that I won't be able to win, for I want to save face in as many social situations as I can.  Plus, I feel awkward being confrontational.  These are characteristics that I have that are barriers to me achieving real community with others.

I think that leadership in a group is important.  Peck said that he was accused of being a weak leader, and sometimes in the book he seems to indicate that he believes leaders should step back, keep a low profile,  and allow group members to resolve their differences openly and honestly.  But, in my opinion, group leaders are needed to keep the more articulate, glib, and narcissistic members from dominating the discussion and to give everyone a chance to talk.  I get so annoyed when group leaders don't do their job (as I understand it, of course!).  Peck appears to have some sensitivity to this concern, though, for at one point he mentions inviting quieter members into the discussion.  I think that the best way to do group is to do what twelve-step groups do, and what one Asperger's Syndrome support group that I attended did: to allow people to share without interruption, one at a time, within a reasonable time limit.  There are weaknesses to this approach: for example, it's parallel sharing, as opposed to dialogue.  But perhaps we can permit people in their own shares to respond to what other people said, or we can create a situation in which a person shares a problem that he has, then people in the group would share, one at a time, their thoughts on the person's problem.

Spiritual Alienation, Yet Extroversion

I got a lot read of M. Scott Peck's The Different Drum: Community Making and Peace.  A significant part of this book overlaps with Peck's Further Along the World Less Traveled, in the sense that Peck discusses the four spiritual stages and tells some of the same stories.  That tells me that I'd probably do well to read Peck's People of the Lie next, and after that to move on to something else entirely.  I'm somewhat interested in reading about American socialist Norman Thomas, who was also a Presbyterian minister.

In my latest reading, I noticed a paradox.  On the one hand, spiritual growth can lead to greater loneliness, for a person who is spiritually mature does not always value what other people value.  On the other hand, spiritual growth can provide one with the tools to be a part of a community, to lay aside one's own selfish desires or prejudices for the good of others.

I've heard this sort of insight before.  For example, at an Intervarsity meeting that I once attended, a guest speaker was telling us that, as we spiritually grow, we will feel more and more that this world is not our home, and yet we will be having a redemptive effect on the world.

Do I identify with this, in terms of where I am now?  Well, I can't say that I feel at home in this world, but that's not so much because I'm spiritually advanced, but rather on account of my Asperger's----or whatever socially inhibits me and makes me appear unusual to others.  Not sharing certain interests with other people----such as sports----can also alienate me from them, somewhat.  Do I feel alone when it comes to my spiritual interests, as the men in Peck's book whom I mentioned yesterday did, leading to the formation of the Basement Group?  Yes and no.  I'd say "yes" in the sense that I don't feel that too many people value what I have to say when it comes to spirituality, and that can lead to a lonely feeling.  (UPDATE: I don't mean my church's Bible study here, since I am accepted there, whether people agree with me or not.)  But I'd also say "no" because there is no dearth of places where people can discuss spirituality, especially online, and one can probably find people who are roughly on the same page: for example, I can find places where the people discussing religion seek spirituality but don't particularly care for conservative Christianity.  Another point that I'd like to make is that, while I enjoy reading and listening to the insights of others because that can be edifying, I myself don't particularly care for discussing religion and the Bible with other people.  I like to read the Bible for myself, for in that context I'm not put down for being stupid or for "missing the point" (as if there even is "the point", as opposed to your point and my point).

I can't see into people's hearts, but I have met some who probably do feel that they are lonely because they are so spiritually advanced over others.  But, if they're so spiritually advanced, why are they impatient with those who are not on the same stage of the spiritual journey as they are? 

The Basement Group

In my latest reading of The Different Drum: Community Making and Peace, M. Scott Peck talks about the Basement Group, a group that gathered together once a week to discuss spirituality.

In Peck's story, the Basement Group started with a psychologist named Ralph, who approached a minister named Peter right after the church service.  Ralph felt lonely because was a Christian and had no one with whom he could discuss spiritual matters, for people in his profession were not interested in religion, nor was his wife, who hated religion because she was recovering from her fundamentalist background.  Peter, meanwhile, did not feel feel that he could discuss spirituality with many of the people in his congregation.  Consequently, Ralph and Peter formed a Christian support group.  It drew more people, including a few atheists.  It also had to try to define boundaries, especially when one member, Ted, continually came to the group drunk.  What interested me is that, although this group was an accepting community, the members found that they did not particularly enjoy partying together, and so they decided to keep their focus on spiritual matters.

Problems in and Outside of Community

In my latest reading of M. Scott Peck's The Different Drum: Community Making and Peace, I could identify with some of the people and problems Peck discussed.  Peck mentioned a man named Marshall who wanted to focus on abstract theology rather than community building.  Peck talked about man named Archie who spoke in poetry, and so people didn't understand what he was getting at.  Then there was a shy lady named Margaret who did not say anything in a group Peck was leading, and Peck thought that her experience was a failure, and yet she told Peck that her time in group was the most joyful experience she ever had.  And there was the problem of groups that had arrived at community coming to an end, and the group members having to go back to the cold world.

A Place Where People Can Be

I started M. Scott Peck's The Different Drum: Community Making and Peace.  I'd like to use as my starting-point something that Peck says on page 103, as he describes a hypothetical group that has entered into a state of community:

"When she is finished [speaking] there is a hush.  It goes on a long time.  But it does not seem long.  There is no uneasiness in this silence.  Slowly, out of the silence, another member begins to talk.  He too is speaking very deeply, very personally, about himself.  He is not trying to heal or convert the first person.  He's not even trying to respond to her.  It's not she but he who is the subject.  Yet the other members of the group do not sense he has ignored her.  What they feel is that it is as if he is laying himself down next to her on an altar."

What I've gotten out of Peck so far is that community is a place where people can be and share who they truly are, while finding acceptance.  As Peck notes, this is rare.  But it's beautiful when it does happen.

I wonder how it can happen, though.  That's the topic of this book, for it concerns how we can create community rather than just experiencing it on a hit-and-miss basis.  But I have a hard time envisioning how community can happen, or rather how I can fit into a community.  Don't get me wrong----there have been a number of groups in which I have felt comfortable.  But feeling free to bare my soul before others and to show them who I truly am?  That occurs very, very, very rarely!

I don't entirely blame others for this----their desire to hog the limelight and dominate the discussion, their judgmental put-downs, etc.----for I myself am part of the problem.  I myself can be quite intolerant.  I could identify with one guy Peck mentioned (and appeared to disagree with) who complained that he did not like how people in the group focused on their negative experiences, for he thought that they should share what was positive in their lives as well.  I've felt that way in Asperger's support groups!

Moreover, if people are free to be who they truly are, then that will entail that they will disagree with each other.  Peck is critical of what he calls "Pseudocommunity", in which people try to avoid rocking the boat.  But some people may take it badly when someone disagrees with them, seeing such disagreement as a put-down.  And, while one may say that they should then defend their positions, not everyone is glib or quick at debating. 

Peck says that people in groups should use "I" statements rather than making generalizations.  Rather than saying that divorce in general is bad, Ralph (to use a fictitious example) should say that his own divorce was hard on him.  Someone else may have had a different experience with divorce!  I think that this is an important point: that an essential part of community is recognizing that people are in different places and have had different experiences.  I don't think that this by itself creates intimacy, for I have been in groups in which people were required to use "I" statements, and, while such groups ran smoothly, there wasn't much intimacy among the people.  But perhaps it can set the stage for people to share and thus to become intimate.

To come back to the passage that I quoted at the beginning of this post, I'm the sort of person who would be hurt if someone talked after me without addressing what I had just said.  I'd see that as a rejection, as someone believing that my point was unworthy of consideration.  Why?  Because I'm insecure about whether or not I am accepted in groups.  But it doesn't necessarily have to be that way.  Suppose someone was sharing to place himself on the altar alongside of me----that he wasn't ignoring me, but we were taking turns at sharing who we are, and now it's his turn.  (This is rare in a number of groups.  Twelve Step recovery groups probably approximate it more than others, for many of them prohibit cross-talk and interruptions, but even in those groups there can be cliques and judgmental snark.)  And suppose that I felt accepted in a group, even if someone disagreed with me or ignored what I said.

Individualism and Community

At church this morning, an issue that was swimming through my mind was individualism and community.

The hymns that we sang this morning largely seemed to focus on the individual's relationship with God.  God loves me.  God has forgiven me.  God has taken care of me.  God will lead me through death into the good afterlife.  The sermon also struck me as rather individualistic, in that it was about personal repentance. 

On some level, I like this.  I often get tired of reading Christian authors downplaying Christ as our personal savior, promoting instead a more communitarian outlook.  The reason for my sentiment, as I've expressed before on this blog, is that I'd like to believe that God loves me personally and can relate to me as an individual, whether I am accepted within a community or not.  I also find it cozy when I sing hymns by people who are reflecting about God's love and care for them personally.  Moreover, in my opinion, certain tasks are individual, in that nobody else can do them for me: I need to have faith and repent.  It's good to have support on this journey from other people, but the tasks, in the end, are my own (though, of course, I have God's help).

And yet, there was one communitarian element in this morning's service.  The liturgy for the Lord's supper said: "Create in us a new community of abundant love, that we may be life-giving disciples of Christ, one with each other, one in unity with You through the Holy Spirit, and one in ministry to a world that hungers for grace and mercy."

All this "one" stuff scares me, to tell you the truth, for I'm against homogenization.  But unity does not necessarily have to entail homogeneity.  Unity can be people loving each other, recognizing the value of loving each other and being concerned about the lives of other people in the community, and seeing importance in reaching out to a world that needs love and even concrete help.  How people pursue this goal may vary from person to person, as some are more extroverted than others.  But, in my view, the church should be a community that is united around this goal.

Finding Christian Community

Bryan's post, Gordon Fee: "The New Testament Does Not Understand Individualistic Christianity" , has inspired me to post this article from Helium that I wrote. It has consistently received high ratings, and that blesses me. Hopefully, my problems can cease being my complaints and become instead a way to improve things. I was about to write about Joshua 17, but I stopped when I realized I had made a factual error, so I may save that post for tomorrow. So I hope you all can receive edification through this article.
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I've often had a hard time fitting into Christian communities. I have difficulty fitting into social situations in general, but especially Christian communities. There are many times when I hear, "You've got to join a small group! That's the only way for you to grow." But I get nervous in small groups. I don't know when (or how) to jump into a conversation. At times, I've said things in small groups simply for the sake of saying something, since I want others to notice and hopefully like me. In response, the group leader rolls his eyes with impatience. Then, in meetings in which I don't say anything at all, the group leader accuses me of not contributing. You just can't satisfy some people!

There is also another problem: What if I don't believe the same way as others in the group? Hard-core fundamentalism just doesn't appeal to me. But, aside from that, what if a person has doubts? Perhaps he's taking a Bible class, in which the professor presents the Bible as full of errors. Maybe he's heard of evolution. Or she could be going through a hard time and the typical evangelical cliches aren't helping her that much.

What's the group supposed to do? It can spend the entire session wrestling with doubts, but that may not be edifying to everyone there. What if someone shares his doubts and causes others in the group to lose their faith?

A lot of Christians make an assumption: If people believe the same things about Jesus, then there is an automatic social connection among them. They have a warm feeling towards each other, as if they truly are brothers and sisters. But life doesn't always work that way. Sure, there are Christians who click and become friends, as there are people in the secular world who are friends with one another. There's nothing unique or special about Christians becoming friends. Also, like the secular world, the Christian community has its share of personality conflicts, strife, and bitterness. Christians may try to find ways to justify their viciousness. One Christian lady I know said that her enemy in the church is not a real Christian, so she can go ahead and treat him badly. But that is a poor excuse. She should just admit that she hates him rather than trying to dress her hatred up in a pious garb. Christians can be just as nasty as the secular world, if not more so. And the result is a loss of community.

Don't get me wrong. There are a lot of positive things about Christian community. There is a sense of solidarity that comes when people pray for one another. And there is nothing quite like having older, mature Christians who can counsel you. They've experienced the hard times. They've gained a lot of wisdom over the years. And they are usually not phased when someone questions the faith. They know what they believe, and they've seen God at work in their own lives.

I think that small groups should model themselves after Alcoholics Anonymous, a group I've frequently attended for observation. AA is not perfect, but, at good AA meetings, there is a sense of humility that pervades the group. There is no self-righteous attitude of "I'm a better Christian because I do such-and-such and God uses me more." Rather, all of the people there know that they have made mistakes, often ones that are very damaging and humiliating. They do not come to meetings with a lot of pretense. They gather as people who are willing to grow along spiritual lines. They want to become more loving, joyous, gentle, patient, and free, since these are the attributes that can keep them sober.

Sure, they are not perfect, but they are honest when they are struggling. And everyone there is available to offer what's worked for him or her personally. People take turns talking, and they're not allowed to interrupt one another. So the meeting is not captivated by the person with the strongest personality. And in the best meetings, there is a belief that everyone has something edifying for the group. Not everyone there will identify with every single statement all of the time. But a statement can touch at least someone, if not in that particular meeting, then later down the road.

All of the things that I just mentioned are Christian principles. We are all sinners saved by grace, so we should not strut with a lot of pretense. We seek to grow spiritually and become more loving people. And we recognize that every single person in the body of Christ is valuable and indispensable.

Community doesn't just happen. We have to make it happen. Half of the battle is having the right outlook. And the other half is structuring meetings so that everyone can contribute.