Christian Life 29 - On Conflict

 Something interesting occurred to me this morning during meditation, and it has a lot to do with my last post entitled "On Addiction."  In light of this morning's epiphany, I believe that, in that post, I may well have overlooked my own point.  In fact, looking back, I may have missed my own point over the course of the last 76 posts.

Last evening I stumbled onto a blog post on a site addressed 1517.org.  Until stumbling upon it, I was unaware of this site's existence and am still illiterate regarding it's purpose, etc. beyond the blog post I happened to hit upon.  That post, entitled "The Failure of the Modern Apologist," proposes what is, to me at least, a radical idea: that all cut-and-dried ideas of Truth as defined by empirical evidence and jurisdictional authority have become passe in the wake of technological advancement.  Author Cindy Koch believes, much like Howard Snyder before her, that the technological revolution of the last 30 years has stripped our current generation of previous concepts of Truth (2+2=4, words' definitions come from dictionaries, "Do unto others...") and replaced them with those Truths most suited to serve Oneself (and ultimately, one presumes, the Machine).  Truth has become whatever one feels it to be.  One's own emotions have usurped all previous concepts of authority and become the sole basis for all understanding, be it in math, science, art, literature, philosophy or morality, rendering the idea of Truth a level of fluidity its never had before.  Truth becomes whatever the individual feels it to be.  And what is it we want to feel, I wondered?  Well, many things, but fundamentally, I think we all want to feel alive.

An interesting thesis to be sure; one I've not yet fully digested.  I think, perhaps, it was one of the principle ideas that congealed into the realization I've had today.  While the themes of this blog have changed over the years, shifting between apologetics, meditative principles and ecclesiology, the overarching motif has been my personal quest for peace and the frustration I've felt for not having apparently achieved it despite a concentrated effort for much longer than I would have initially assumed necessary.  I believe I may have hit upon one reason for this disparity.

In "On Addiction" I mention a number of concepts to which the modern Westerner may be addicted:  competition, anger, divisiveness, etc.  In a post dated April 20 of this year and entitled "On Fear" I state that our single greatest fear is that of irrelevance and enumerate things we do daily to avoid our irrelevant fates.  In both cases, I think I have omitted a singular, compelling factor, one I have just this morning come to name: conflict. 

This started out as a single phrase that popped unbidden into my head: "one can have no peace until one rejects their desire for conflict."  My first reaction to this phrase was to consider it obvious, trite and obtuse.  Then I started considering the myriad implications of the word "conflict."  There is, of course, armed conflict and sociopolitical upheaval, but then there is the basic foundation of all literature and entertainment, for a story cannot exist without an element of conflict.  As I started down this rabbit hole, I began to see more and more how conflict is an essential part of our daily lives; how we seek out conflict when we are deprived of it for extended periods, that, in one way or another, we live in anticipation of the next conflict, be it real or contrived.  We have any number of euphemisms for the concept of conflict to make it seem more palatable: challenge, contest, engagement, drama, survival-of-the-fittest.  Whatever we choose to call it, conflict is what enables us to feel alive.

Earlier this week, while scrolling through Facebook, I broke one of my own rules and, having read a post with which I disagreed, posted a rebuttal without even stopping to see who's post I was disputing.  Within minutes, my notifications were blowing up with retorts to this one post, some kind, others not.  The main thing being pointed out was that, in my ignorance, I had chosen to refute the concept that served as the functional thesis for the group involved.  I quickly saw my error, posted an apology to the group and went about my merry way.  However, for the next three days, I checked back on this group to see what other comments my posts had elicited.  I had no idea why I was doing this; the mistake had been made and atoned for.  That should have been an end to it.  Only now do I realize that I was subconsciously hoping for comments of a less genteel nature so that I could feel a certain level of smugness over those who were less "mature" in their reactions to my blunder.  I was looking for conflict.  Now that I think about it, I realize that this is ultimately the entire purpose behind scrolling through social media: to either find something from someone to which we might take umbrage, or to find a post by a friend expressing an opinion with which we agree so that we might have the satisfaction of imagining conflict with those who disagree.  We scroll looking for conflict.  I can't be the only one who's noticed that we have become both the most offensive and most easily offended generation in history.

As a real-life example that has occurred to me as I have typed, a few years ago in America, the conservative politicians and pundits started a campaign to wipe out the threat of the "Antifas," a subversive group that, according to the media, were out to dismantle the republic.  I had, at the time, never heard of the "Antifas," so I did a bit of research into the matter.  I quickly discovered two things of significance: (1) the term "antifa" is a short version of "anti-fascist."  I started wondering how, in a republic, a group of anti-fascists could be seen as the Bad Guys?  Aren't we all, as good citizens of the republic, expected to be against fascism? (2) There actually is no group - political, subversive, or otherwise - that identifies itself as Anti-Fascist.  The conservative media made it all up.  And why would they do that?  Ratings!  The idea was to simply stir the pot to increase ratings.  They were courting conflict.

Over the period of the last hour and a half, I have come to realize that throughout my thought process (not only in the last months, but since convincing myself to develop a logical philosophy some 45 years ago) I have overlooked the most prominent addiction in our Western society, including my own: conflict.  And perhaps our greatest fear is less about irrelevance and more about peace.  Sure, we want our storybook conflicts to come with peaceful - and just - resolutions, but we aren't satisfied for long.  We soon seek out a new conflict in which to embroil ourselves, a new story in which to immerse ourselves.  We seem to find peace a lovely and wonderful thing, but only in passing.  This is true in not only our relationships (i.e. politics, marriage), but even within the privacy of our own minds (those imaginary arguments we have with ourselves).

This morning, perhaps for the first time, I realize that the lasting peace, the extended tranquility, the eternal joy that I have repeatedly told myself I seek cannot be found until I realize and face my own personal need and desire for conflict.  I suddenly understand that a big part of me worries that, having achieved everlasting peace, I will find it to be boring as hell.  I wonder if you might find this true as well.

Pax