On Taming Cynicism and Resentment

(This I wrote initially as an online discussion in my Reinhold Niebuhr J-term class at McCormick seminary. We had been reading his work on the same name as this title).

I’m thinking more about the “taming cynicism and resentment” discussed today, which is so necessary when one has been wounded and discouraged in the struggle, and what doing this takes. In class I mentioned human relationships, and the ability of the student to pick up and continue the voice of the teacher even when that teacher’s voice itself has been lost. And I also liked Amy’s response about the knowing of the other, that which re-humanizes the de-humanized (interpretation mine).

I think it goes even beyond the hypocrisy of teachers, and the disillusionment of students, a theme I’ve been wrestling with and have mentioned in different ways: I knew a professor who talked some good talk, every day, in class. The talk was so good, so inspiring, that I held on to it and said, ‘here at last I am finding a mentor who is not afraid to speak some truth!’ But, when push came to shove in a real situation, I was crushed to learn that the professor didn’t really believe it, didn’t walk the walk that went with the talk; in fact, when a real situation developed where his professed ethics were so needed; his talk changed. For a while, I wanted to yell at him in class every time he went back to talking his talk to just stop, it meant nothing, and he had proven he really didn’t care at all.

Yes, I suppose a student could do that. But I didn’t yell at him, and not because I have been able to forgive just yet, either. It was because I knew I still needed the words, and despite his personal enacted ethics, I didn’t want to give up the standard of his professed ethics. It was a vision that I could not afford to lose, despite the lived disappointments.It frightens me how often I hear and see students idolizing their professors, that is, making them into idols, on campus. I know I have bought into it on and off in my education, and I’d like to think that I have finally been cured of it, but time will tell.

To idolize is different than to acknowledge the hard work and commitment that goes into becoming and being a professor. It is instead to accept words pronounced from their mouths without question, as well as their actions, a practice I’ve seen more these days in my seminary classes than in undergrad, and which continues to disturb me. “If Dr. X says it, then it must be true, if Dr. X does it, it must be right.” Does speaking of God equate one with God in the minds of those early in spiritual formation? Maybe there are parallels in the larger society, and it is one of Piaget's intermediary stages of moral development. It is interesting how much more this seems to affect the Masters’ students than the Ph.D students; and perhaps the LSTC students more than the McCormick students. I think it is also not unrelated to ‘cultures’ on campus of complacency and comfort, an unwillingness to engage the uncomfortable questions.

Meanwhile, in a larger context, I guess students today still find value in what Tillich has written, despite his great hypocrisy (what I might call the disparity between a beautiful theological system in theory and a very ugly personal conduct in reality). I imagine this happens whether or not students know his story. I also think of the debate, at least in Lutheranism, on whether the incompetence or unworthiness of the minister nullifies the worthiness of the sacrament itself. (Conclusion: it doesn’t).

So I guess I’m pondering faith that transcends the sin, a faith to hope for beyond present disappointments. And that is some hope that prevents despair, which I might otherwise be led to, knowing I will inevitably fail to live up to my own ‘good talk,’ and in multiple ways. Probably two or three times today, and hundreds of times in the next decade. Ouch. But yes, there is grace. Not grace that lulls into detached complacency, but grace that encourages one to try again and engage despite the risks and inevitable failures in the process. A grace that is speakable in polite society? And a grace that’s as good in the seminary as it is in the war zone. And this brings me back to the human relationships and carrying echoes of prophecy.

I know I am increasingly ‘hard’ on my professors. They have to earn my respect now, where I used to give it away easily until hurt deeply. In my transition from a college religion major to a seminary student, I had become quite cynical here in a few short months. I had learned to accept professors who didn’t care about my life or my vocation, but only talked at me in advising sessions or class. Who didn’t want to spend time with students outside of class. Who failed to engage and who failed the ethics that were called for when it mattered most. Still, in times of deep pain, I have recently discovered a faithful few. A few who do care about my self and my future, and who do encourage, and who do put their ethics into actions, maybe even with some risk. And it tames my cynicism and eases my resentment, and gives me some hope to continue. Perhaps these few cannot combat the larger forces at work, but they have created some shelter for a student to breathe, to perhaps find her feet and her voice again.

The teacher’s voice may be lost, through death, or hypocrisy, or complacency, or any number of human limitations…and the student may yet be able to take that which was of most value and bring it a step further, to bring some future good from it. It is not inevitable, but it is hopeful. This is enough for now. It is, very much, a work in progress.

Peace, Le Anne Clausen