A Tale of Two Grandfathers: On Being Civil in an Uncivil Age

Today civil political discourse seems like a Tasmanian Tiger or Passenger Pigeon: a fascinating thing of the past but gone for good. Political turbulence marks us, and with it an “in your face, no holds barred” verbal warfare that abounds on social media, podcasts, and elsewhere. I don’t want to describe its causes or measure its reach. Nor do I want to argue that strong rhetoric in the face of social problems is necessarily wrong. One need only think of the work of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in fighting against racism to see the value of a determined advocate in leading a cause. And many causes there have been in the past fifty years. Indeed, our age has been dominated by what has been called the culture wars.

There is much social ferment today, with some issues moving to resolution and, increasingly, other issues that serve to reveal deep social divisions. And the ferment is no longer just out there, but in our lives too, and within the church of Jesus Christ. In my immediate family, for example, we have different points of view on more than one issue. And these differences, though amicable, have resulted in parting of the ways in terms of church affiliation. We’ve simply agreed to disagree and to love one another in the process. I suspect all of us, in one way or another, face differences within our families, and perhaps within ourselves, over what to believe, and how to talk constructively about disagreements.

As believers, what does it mean to do justly, love mercy and walk humbly before God in an age of ferment? As I prepared this piece, it occurred to me that my convictions about such matters are rooted not in current debates, but in my past. For me, these stories are cautionary tales that lead me to believe that glib solutions to our nation’s social problems, and to problems within the church, will very likely be wrong-headed. Securing a just social and political order requires careful thought and the commitment to listen to others with whom we might disagree.

So, here aretwo stories about my grandfathers:

In some ways, they had much in common. They were both Christians, one a Mennonite and the other a Methodist, and they were both from Indiana, one from the farm country in the northern part of the state, and the other from the coal country of southern Indiana.

Grandpa Kaufmann was a Mennonite and a farmer (back then nearly all Mennonites were farmers). In some ways my grandfather was self-sufficient. . . working the soil, raising livestock for food, repairing his own farm implements (two of his sons became engineers as a consequence, one of whom became my father). But he was part of a community sharing a common faith and lifestyle. He had a strong sense of being bonded together with his fellow Mennonites in both faith and in life. He knew he could count on others during times of need.

Politically, Grandpa Kaufmann was a conservative. He believed that government which governs least governs best. In his view the government should build roads, punish criminals, provide for the common defense, and, most of all, give him the freedom to fulfill his responsibilities as a farmer, a husband and father, a church member, and a community member.

My Grandpa Auten was a coal-mining Methodist. At twelve years old in 1908, he saw his father struck and killed by lightning as they were bailing hay together in the fields. Within a week he began what was to be fifty-three years of labor in the strip mines of southwestern Indiana, working his way up from water boy to ultimately operating a coal shovel. When he began working in the mines, his wage was barely enough to sustain a hand to mouth existence. Coal miners in those days were the poorest of the poor, and worked in conditions where accidents and fatalities were not uncommon.

All of that began to change when the government legalized collective bargaining in the coal mines, and Grandpa Auten became a leader in the movement to unionize the miners in his area. Through his efforts and the efforts of others, the miners won a contract with the coal company that eventually brought the miners out of poverty and into the middle class.

Grandpa Auten never forgot that it was the government that played a key role in making possible his escape from poverty. And he was particularly good at pointing out that it was the Democrats and not the Republicans who were on the side of the working man. In his view, the Republicans were the party of the bosses and the Democrats were the party of the common man. I wish I had a nickel for every time he told me that when I was a kid.

Grandpa Auten definitely did not want a handout from the government, but he was thankful for the helping hand the government provided. Although he would not have used this language, the give and take of the marketplace in the coal industry had not brought plenty to all, but served to benefit the owners and impoverish the workers. (Today we might point to the one percent with its wealth and the problem of the shrinking middle class.)

The intervention of the state helped to rectify the imbalance and enabled the owners to continue on in the enterprise of mining coal, and the workers to have enough economic clout through collective bargaining to make a comfortable wage. To my grandpa A., the result was simply fair play. And that's what politics should be all about, he thought . . . the government stepping in to help the common person against the powerful and the wealthy.

So, who was right about the role of the state vis-a-vis the economic and political issues of their day? My farmer grandfather or my coal miner grandfather? In a sense they both were right—at least partially.

As I said before, my Mennonite grandfather lived in a settled world, little different from that of his ancestors. He needed little from the state, other than to give him the freedom to live his life according to Mennonite ways. He saw no need for unions and government intrusions such as the minimum wage laws (also an issue today). They both served only to take money out of his pockets by creating higher prices.

Grandpa Auten, on the other hand, keenly felt the strictures of what he believed to be unjust working conditions. To use biblical language, he was confronted with fallen economic structures that needed to be reformed before he could enjoy a living wage and safe working conditions. And, in his judgment, the government was a necessary force to bring justice and fair play to labor-management relations in the coal industry.

So for one grandfather, the essential goodness of the created order was realized in his daily life without much government intervention. For the other, structural evil had to be overcome before he could provide for his family and give to his church in the way he deemed best. And so, I lived in a divided house, so to speak, one grandfather was a Republican and the other a Democrat. One a conservative and the other a liberal as defined by the issues of the 1950s.

What, then, is the moral of the tale of the two grandfathers? They did not agree with one another about some pretty key issues. But I think from the vantage point of over a half century later there is an important lesson to learn from them. You see, their political views were based on only part of the picture. They understood what they experienced and perhaps dismissed too easily the viewpoint of those whose experience was different.

To generalize from their experience, it seems that pitfalls are there for both conservatives and liberals to fall into. Conservatives, in their appreciation of the past and their reluctance to make progressive changes are in danger of what one writer calls "accepting the fallen in the name of creation." Liberals, with their focus on change, may fall prey to advocating unwarranted, and even pernicious, change.

My particular point is not merely to speak to the fallibility of our political convictions. It is also to critique our disposition to think that the light of truth only shines on what we happen to believe is true. It's too easy, isn't it, for us to believe that the other guy has the bad ideas, that all the sinners are on the other side of the issue. And one of the negative legacies of the culture wars is demonizing the opposition. We can dismiss an idea, not on the merits of the idea, but based on the source of the idea. If the wrong guy said it, it must be a bad idea.

In my view, the ongoing task of speaking as Christians to the issues of our day will be made easier if we admit that conservatives and liberals alike, whatever the issue, have insights (howbeit different ones) into the nature of justice. But when conservatives want us to conserve conditions that are rooted in the fall, I want to stand with my coal miner grandfather. And when liberals want to liberate us from normative practices rooted in creation structures, which I presume the culture wars is partially about, then I side with my farmer grandfather.

Rather than claiming the label of “liberal” or “conservative,” we should seek the goal of public justice, with ample social space for all peoples to live according to their life visions, without bringing harm either to social structures or to other individuals. Then let us rally to those liberal ideas and those conservative ideas that help us to reach that goal. Such an approach will enable us to glean what is best from both political traditions, and reduce our inclination to automatically reject those whose position is different from our own. It may also result in lowering the temperature of our rhetoric and inserting a measure of civility into our discussions.

Martin Marty said that one of the real problems of modern life is that people who are good at being civil often lack strong convictions and people who have strong convictions often lack civility. One of the lessons of our times is that both are important. We should know what we believe and hold those beliefs with real conviction, but let’s be civil with one another as we speak together of our convictions. Isn't that what the writer of Hebrews meant when he said in 12:14,15: “Make every effort to live in peace with all men and to be holy; without holiness no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one misses the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and to defile many.”

These are words to make us pause and reflect. We are to be holy, and we are to make every effort to live in peace with all men. Clearly there is a tension here. We know of many people in the scriptures and elsewhere whose holy living led not to peace but to conflict and even death, our Lord being the most notable example. There is a battle raging between the Kingdom of God and the Kingdom of the Devil. Yet in the midst of this battle, we are called to be holy and to be peaceable. Not an easy task, to be sure. In I Peter 2:17 we are told to honor everyone, and later in his letter, Peter tells us to “always be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you, yet do it with gentleness and reverence.”

The issues that dominated the fifties and sixties are long past, replaced by new ones. But holiness, peaceableness, the honoring of others, gentle and reverent defense never go out of style. These are the tools with which we ought to engage others in the social issues of our day. Not reckless posturing, not demonizing the opposition. May the Lord be pleased to make us skilled users of these biblical tools as we speak to one another.

And may we keep reading and listening, and asking for guidance from the Holy Spirit, and developing our own voices on these things. May they be gentle and reverent voices. And in our own voices, may we speak with conviction about issues that matter deeply to us, our family and friends, and the watching world.