Dietrich Bonhoeffer makes the observation toward the beginning of Life Together, written while the German pastor was in prison for resisting the Nazi regime, that someone joining a Christian community would do well to let die the ideal of a “perfect” community. He means dying in the sense of really letting go of that human ideal. One possible reaction to this is to note that the facts on the ground – the imperfections of those with whom we live – take little time to reveal themselves. Yes, but that doesn’t mean, as Bonhoeffer remarks, that one may not still harbor a desire and even an expectation that the ideal is within reach. Holding on to that, he says, is a recipe for frustration and disappointment.
I’m thinking of this in the context of our present confinement, which has tested our ability to live together. Deprived of the escape valves we rely on to gain distance at times from one another, we have been up close with our spouses, our families, our communities for an extended period of time. How’s that working out for you? The answer to that, I expect, will be as different as the people and the circumstances involved. But there may be some common threads. The character and personality of each one comes into sharper relief in close quarters over time. That will likely be a mixed bag, bringing to light reasons to appreciate qualities in the other person that one had not seen in quite the same way. Some grace under pressure, perhaps, or a more evident loyalty to the good of the family or community. But there will be strains as well. If there’s grace under pressure, there can also be less likeable responses to a crisis of this sort. Our warts, peccadillos, character defects have ample opportunity to show themselves.
When the strains begin to gain the upper hand, isn’t it helpful to say that others are doing the best they can? Even if that’s not absolutely true – I myself am probably the best argument against it – it remains a good operative principle, curbing our proclivity for harsh judgment. It’s those judgments and the attendant resentments that creep into our relationships with one another that harm our life together. It seems particularly true that at a time when our physical space is circumscribed, we should try to open up space for those with whom we live. We need to repeat to ourselves, this is not easy for anyone.
This means not only asking for the grace to be patient with our spouse or children or community members, but also for the strength and ingenuity to build one another up. It also means being deliberate about giving thanks for those with whom we share life. The constraints placed upon our vaunted autonomy in a time such as this make us more deeply aware of our interdependence, of how much we need and count on one another. That is no small blessing.
And then, there’s the balm of a sense of humor, and not only of the gallows kind. That, too, is a blessing.
