I am "THE MAN"

Someone I love recently accused me of being “the man.” No, they did not mean that I exhibit all the qualities of “cool.” This “Man” referred to the one who perpetrates a plot to keep me down. You know, someone who is part of “the system,” that dominating machine that keeps the less powerful in check. How could this be? I can’t be “the Man.” My hair is long, I wear Doc Marten’s, and I wear black almost every day. Well, appearance isn’t everything.
I possess qualities that give me a master key to the door of opportunity to be the “Man.” By race, gender, class, education, sexual orientation, and profession opportunities abound for me to enforce the rules of the dominant system. I didn’t ask for this, but I often enjoy the privilege. Maybe I was born to be “the Man.” Perhaps there is nothing I can do about it. Poor me, I have it so hard.
My own neuroses illustrate an appeal to order. It seems plain to me that people should always stand to the right when riding an escalator. Then, people who wish to walk up have an easy path. Turn signals are there for a reason. The rules of the express lane are paramount for the survival of our society. Everyone knows these things. They should know these things. Anyone who breaks these rules must be living with a careless attitude, or perhaps they are intentionally attempting to destroy the fabric of humanity and send us back to the primordial slime. Devil people!
Well now, all of that out of the way, let us move on. I most often participate in the system by following the rules for the sake of the rules. The ease of giving in to tightly organized systems offers a good fit. Don’t get me wrong, I am not exactly an orderly person. I see the iron as a decorative object, and file drawers are not helpful as one can’t see the things they might need. It is in moments when I need some control that the rules matter most. When I feel that I might fail at some task, lose the respect of others, or just might be wrong I tighten my grip.
Certainly, I give myself a hard time in these moments, but it is on others that I seek to enforce the order of things. I find myself feeling disdain for those who don’t keep appointments or are not punctual. I ignore practical suggestions and requests as they would cause me to deviate from policy. Anyone who can’t see that is just not paying attention. They do not see the big picture. Worst of all, they are not ready to hear the truth.
That, my friends, is contempt. When I hold another in contempt I fail to see them as a person. I see myself as part of the good and orderly system. I see the other as a fragment dangling from the whole page. The best thing that could happen is to cut them off. It would be best for them. I know these things, they have know idea what is good for them. By the way, contempt is fancy word for hate.
Wait, do I truly set out to hate others? No, that is not the burning passion of my life. I do give in to ways of being that lead to disregard of others. While my emotions or intentions don’t scream hate, the results that my actions have on my relationships are destructive. I do want to do good. My intentions flow from a sense that I am seeking what is best. The problem comes when it gets too complicated to consider all the issues. Things go awry when I don’t do as I believe I should do then I go on justifying my lack of action by blaming you for making me this way.
Is there any hope for us? When I say “us” I mean all of us. Any of us can fall into acting like “the man”. Sure it is easier for us wealthy, white males. However, all of us can abuse whatever power we might have, no matter how limited. There is hope. The evidence of love and compassion in the world proclaims great possibility for all of us. It is in being an “us” that we can resist the attempts of “the system” to dehumanize. From the positive, we are all created in God’s image. From the negative, we are all sinners.
We need the aspects of both blessedness and sinfulness to guide us in knowing who the individual is, and to recognize our connection to others. We are related by being. Recognizing you as God’s child opens me to welcome. Acknowledging my own weakness opens up some room for me to receive. Paperwork, rules, and systems might exist well in such a relationship. Yet, if the system exists for the sake of the system relationship will lose. Connection will be broken. We will be “the man.”
There is hope. We can be people who follow the rules and keep some order. We can also live with the flexibility to allow compassion and love to make things messy. Rules take a back seat to human need and relationship. God has broken rules (all the time). Hebrew and Christian scripture give some wonderful pictures of this. Rules were set up for sacrifice and worship (well, maybe God allowed those things). Then when folks started mistreating others God says sacrifice is no good. Sometimes God got so angry that the chosen were condemned forever. Then God comes back and offers a chance to be reconciled. That is real relationship. It is messy, it is a head bobbing, arm waving dance around the fire. That is love.
Maybe I will start a 12-step group for folks like me: “The Man Anonymous.” You can join. We can wrestle with that fine line between compassion and order. Folks like us can develop a good sense humor about our propensity to separate. “That is ‘you people’ kind of thinking. Work the steps.” We can honor the blessedness of all, and know our own weakness. We can refuse to claim strength by being “the man.” We can live in relationship and become “the love.”

Come on in and rap with me.

Greetings to all the good people taking the time to drop by. My door is always open though you may sometimes find a small dog, stack of books, or drum in front of it. My study is the place where we can study together the ways of life, and I suppose even death is part of my work. (Then again, death is part of life.) Anyway, you don't have to call me "Father." Some folks do, and it either makes me feel weird, feel old, feel superior, or feel like someone is referring to me using a title familiar to them. I am also known as John Mark. I am a priest at The Cathedral of St. Philip in Atlanta, Georgia. www.stphilipscathedral.org
I welcome all parishioners and any other folks who want to stop by. I thought that I would keep a journal of the priestly life as well as offer some reflections on faith and the connections to everything else.
This would be my first attempt at the blog world. I can think of no other reason for me to do this than shameless self-promotion. It could also save others from me forwarding them jokes and other stuff I have found on the web. (I don't do that.) I could be sending those follow up e-mails that say how I am sending you this funny or inspiring syrup because I care about you. (I don't do that either. I just don't send much of anything and now I am going to ask friends and strangers to check out my blog.) Whew, I have to slow down on the Tic-Tacs.
So this is Father Dude's study. I will be looking holy and stroking my beard.
Thanks for dropping by, and many blessings.