Harvest and humility, learning from life and Sarah Smarsh

The milo and soybean harvest is happening. It creates a lot of dust, and on a still day, it hangs in the air almost like fog.

We were cutting milo today, and beans a couple of days ago. My creative cooking has not extended to field meals, so on the beans day we had burgers, and tonight...hot dogs. 

 I am thankful to have been able to join the live stream of Sarah Smarsh giving the annual Peace Lecture for Bethel College this evening. Sarah grew up in south central Kansas on a farm. She wrote the book, Heartland, A Memoir of Working Hard and Being Broke in the Richest Country On Earth.

The lecture is sponsored by the Kansas Institute for Peace and Conflict Resolution (KIPCOR), and by Bethel College. It is also part of a fund raiser for KIPCOR, which is worthy place to support. Sarah's book was read by all freshmen at Bethel this fall.

I took notes, and I need some time to digest what she said, but it really resonated with me. She challenged us, in this time of divisive politics, to have humility. She spoke of how people want similar things, but differ on how to achieve those goals. There are better and worse ways of reaching for goals, but humility needs to accompany our interactions.

She spoke of having changed her views during her life. That experience, of changing how she saw something important to her, impacts the way she holds to her current opinions. It also influences the ways she interacts with those who disagree with her. 

The sense of superiority we carry about our own views does not serve us well. It widens the gaps between us. I need to examine myself in this respect. This isn't an easy thing to do right now. When the political divide is so great, and the possibilities for harm is also great, it is hard. We can't back away from working for justice. But can we back away from doing it with disdain? Do I have the right to ask that question? I think I can ask it of myself, which is the only place to start. 

I'd be interested in thinking about this with other people. My views about many things, like Sarah's, also have changed over the years. They changed for a variety of reasons, like getting more information, hearing from different perspectives, a lot of introspection, and heartfelt discussions with people who treated me with respect. The disrespect I sometimes hear in my own thoughts could use some work.

A speaker I heard recently began a sermon with a litany about being loved. Line after line began with "if you are...", describing the many ways and reasons a person may feel alone or abandoned. Each line ended with a quiet certainty, "you are loved." Maybe, as I hear about, or hear from, people with views very different from my own strongly held convictions, I can also hear that phrase, "you are loved", about myself, and about them.