If you just joined us or missed our show last week, it’s great to have you here! This is the second episode in a five-part special series for the upcoming election in the U.S.
During this miniseries, we’re exploring something the 19th century French writer Alexis de Tocqueville referred to as habits of the heart — the spiritual work we have to do to live in a diverse, multicultural democracy.
Over each of these five episodes, we’re reflecting on a different one of those habits, with the help of another writer, Parker Palmer.
Last week we talked about the first habit, which Palmer calls “remembering that we’re all in this together.” In this episode, we’re going to explore the second habit, ‘An appreciation of the value of “otherness.”’
It’s one thing to acknowledge that we’re all in this together. Okay, I might say, I get it. That person who I totally disagree with politically is still, at the end of the day, a human being. Just like me.
And we can probably say to that, congratulations — but also, low bar. Important bar, not dehumanizing and all, but still. Could we dig a little deeper? What might happen then?
That’s what I think this second habit is about. It’s one thing to acknowledge someone’s basic humanity. But it’s another thing to actually value the fact that they are someone different, someone we might call “an other.” That’s a next level up.
Now before we get further with this, I feel like I need to say something important here.
This valuing the other concept can get complicated, particularly when we feel like that other person is out to do us harm.
If we don’t feel safe with another person, it’s hard if not impossible to appreciate their value as an other. We’re going to explore this dynamic more in future episodes, but I feel like I can mention it now.
Because I can already hear some listeners saying, “Josh, I totally get this valuing otherness thing — but those people really are out to get people like me.”
And so for today, I want to say: Great, don’t focus on those people. Think about the many more people who you might be incredibly different than, but aren’t out to harm you. Focus on those people.
Because the truth is, we’re all “others” in the lives of everyone who isn’t us. Even the people I’m most intimate with — my family, my close friends — they’re others. They are emphatically not me.
And if we can appreciate that fact, if we can really embrace it, if we can not judge other people for being failed versions of us, if we can actually get to a place where we love the fact that other people are different than us — then we’re doing the basic move here.
Last week I mentioned the verse from Genesis, “It isn’t good for humans to be alone,” which is kind of the foundational verse for marriage — and for all our social relationships.
One of the amazing things about the Bible’s creation story is that God creates one human being, but then recognizes that without someone else to share the world, that human could be lonely.
So God creates another human — an other. In the Hebrew of the Bible, that other person is called an ezer k’negdo, which literally means “a helper who will oppose him.”
A helper who will oppose him — how does that work? The Talmud explains: When the relationship is working, the other person will be a helper; but when it’s not working, they’ll fight.
As a rabbi, I’ve been blessed to perform weddings. One of the things I love to share with couples under the chuppah is the hope, the blessing really, that they will continue to be amazed by this other person they’re choosing to spend their life with.
The old married couples who make it a long time? That’s what so many of them seem to be able to do beautifully: they see that even after 40 or 50 years of being together, they can still discover things about this other person. They have what feels like an eternal spring of curiosity.
Now we don’t have to all marry each other in a democracy. But I think this quality of curiosity, of valuing otherness — it’s essential to living together in a democratic society.
Because that curiosity is what allows us not just to make room for a passive kind of live and let live, but nudges us to care about each other’s well-being.
I actually have things to learn from you, and you have things to learn from me. There are ways we might even enrich each other’s lives. And our society, our democracy, is stronger as a result of embracing each other’s otherness.
There’s a Buddhist practice of metta, or lovingkindness, that’s really beautiful. It involves offering blessings in concentric circles — starting with yourself, moving to an intimate friend or partner, moving out to an acquaintance, and then moving further out to a stranger.
A Jewish adaptation of that practice is one we first explored here in our first season (I’ll include the link in the show notes), and it uses the practice of the Priestly Blessing in a similar way.
I want to offer it here as something that can help all of us cultivate that kind of curiosity and appreciation of otherness.
If you can, begin by sitting in a dignified and upright position. Not rigid, but not slouched. Allow your body to arrive. Soften your gaze or close your eyes. Allow your awareness to come to rest on your breath.
Now we’re going to do the blessing practice. There are three lines. Try actually saying them out loud. And you might try bringing your hands together over your heart. For the first part, you’re going to focus on yourself.
Here’s the first line:
Yivarcheni Adonai V’yishmereini, May the Divine bless me and keep me safe.
Sit with this line for a moment. See if you can sense energy and support–from the chair you’re sitting in, from the firm ground that holds you up, from all the things that are keeping you safe right now. Sit in that sensation for a minute.
Then, the second line:
Yaer Adonai panav elai v’yichuneni, May the Holy One’s countenance shine graciously upon me.
Can you find a sense of radiance that’s emerging–either from outside you or from within? What do you notice? What do you feel? There’s no right answer. Just notice it.
And then the third line:
Yisa Adonai panav elai v’yasem li shalom, May the face of the Creator be turned toward me and grant me peace.
Peacefulness. Shalom. Dwell in that for a moment.
Now, we’ll do it again, but I’d invite you to bring to mind someone you want to offer this blessing to: a friend, a partner, a parent, a child.
Yivarchecha Adonai V’yishmerecha, May the Divine bless you and keep you safe.
That sensation of safety and support you felt before? Channel that towards the person in your mind. May they be safe. May they be supported. May they be blessed.
Yaer Adonai panav elecha v’yichuneneka, May the Holy One’s countenance shine graciously upon you.
Recall the sensation of radiance you felt a moment ago. Now, direct that radiance toward the person you’re thinking of. Imagine casting warmth and light toward them.
Yisa Adonai panav elekha v’yasem lekha shalom, May the face of the Creator be turned toward you and grant you peace.
Finally, tap into that sensation of wholeness, completion, peace — and extend that out towards this other person. Be a vessel for this Divine blessing.
Now, we’ll go one more round, but bringing to mind an acquaintance — maybe someone at work or school, or someone you know in passing.
Yivarchecha Adonai V’yishmerecha, May the Divine bless you and keep you safe.
Yaer Adonai panav elecha v’yichuneneka, May the Holy One’s countenance shine graciously upon you.
Yisa Adonai panav elekha v’yasem lekha shalom, May the face of the Creator be turned toward you and grant you peace.
And now the final round. Bring to mind a stranger — maybe an image you have of someone who seems really different from you. In another part of the country, with a different way of life, and, maybe, different political leanings. The invitation here is not to love them — just to offer them goodwill. See how it feels to try:
Yivarchecha Adonai V’yishmerecha, May the Divine bless you and keep you safe.
Yaer Adonai panav elecha v’yichuneneka, May the Holy One’s countenance shine graciously upon you.
Yisa Adonai panav elekha v’yasem lekha shalom, May the face of the Creator be turned toward you and grant you peace.
Let’s sit for one more minute. And just notice how it feels to go through these concentric circles, offering blessings. Perhaps a little more calm, a little more connected, and a little more appreciation of the value of otherness, this second habit of the heart.
Blessings for the journey. Know that I’m on it with you.