Recently, in the aftermath of a messy break-up, one of my former students posted the following on her Facebook page:
“ALL guys are jerks. They’re ALL out for one thing, and they ALL cheat.”
All.
That’s a pretty big word.
She may have been using it for dramatic effect or in frustrated catharsis, but it was also clear that to some degree she really believed this; that standing in her shoes, the totality of the guys she’d been close to had all fit the same shameful profile, all had the same sinister motives, and all possessed the same questionable character.
All. Every. Always. Never.
Our absolutes are interesting. As often as they can describe our circumstances, they can also expose our character.
That is; our personality is often revealed in our patterns.
Absolutes uncover personal blind spots, and the tendencies we have to choose poorly, to self-destruct, or to pass the buck.
When we use words like all and every and always to describe our difficulties and disappointments, we’re hoping to explain some exterior reason for the suffering we endure.
“Every time I get close to someone I get hurt.”
“All my bosses have been micromanaging jerks.”
“Everyone I trust lets me down.”
“Pastors always judge me.”
We think we’re being rational and quite reasonable by calling-out the common element in these bad experiences, (boyfriends, bosses, friends, pastors), and making them accountable for the damage they’ve inflicted on us.
What is so tempting to miss in our absolutes, is the reality that we’re the other constant: We’re always part of the equation; partners in the absolutes.
It’s never easy to admit our flaws; to come face-to-face with the messiness of ourselves, and our own impact on our own circumstances.
I can remember in my earlier days as a pastor, (OK, maybe last week), using absolutes to unfavorably describe my bosses, my co-workers, the students, other church members.
I was always convinced that somehow, I had run into hundreds of people, with the exact same combination of unreasonable expectations, character flaws, and horrible insensitivity to my gifts and awesomeness.
It was like I’d hit the lottery in reverse.
One day, I realized that I was putting the entire world on the hook for the negative stuff in my life. (Well, with one notable exception).
I finally decided I had to own my absolutes.
That hasn’t always been a pleasant experience.
Rather than treat everyone as part of some greater conspiracy of ignorance, bad judgement, and cruelty, I now had to go back to seeing them as individuals, and giving them a fair shot to be right.
Instead of seeing someone as the simply the latest person through the predictable revolving door of impending disappointment, I had to receive them separately, and reassess my treatment of them.
Maybe that student was right. Maybe all of her past boyfriends were the problem. Maybe they were all exactly as she described.
Maybe all of your bosses have been micromanaging jerks.
Maybe everyone you’ve trusted has let you down.
And maybe in my ministry experience, everyone else really has been the problem.
Or, maybe not.
One thing’s for sure; when it comes to the difficulties you face, and the conflicts in all of your relationships, this one absolute is true:
It’s always worth looking in the mirror.
Always.
