Courage is Contagious
with a side order of love
There’s a term you may have heard of called “group think”. Growing up in the 70’s I was aware of cults. Experts can explain why cults gained such sure footing in that decade of inner exploration. At the time, I was in elementary school and not at risk of recruitment, so I can’t give an expert opinion.
But one thing is for sure: the idea of belonging to something bigger than myself is appealing. You may have been to a Mass where you sensed you were part of a whole. Maybe you’ve been to a concert where the crowd sang together, lifting their voices in unison. We’ve all felt this unnamable feeling.
Some cults were merely money-seeking enterprises. Most met awful ends.
Jim Jones and the tragedy in Guyana was in the news for months. Later, a local Houston band, the Judys, wrote a very danceable song called Guyana Punch.1 That is the strangeness of cults: teen dancing follows tragedy.
Human behavior is often difficult to understand. We are capable of great horror and great celebration. Great evil as well as great love. There is strength in numbers, that is true indeed. A group can increase whatever is shared.
I am a joiner by nature.
As a group member, most of us will go along to get along without questioning what we are going along with. This is fine if you are on a team at work, in your neighborhood, or supporting your child’s school. Working together is how we get things done. Going along to get along helps you reach the end goals of your group.
Groups are complicated. They grow and change.
Sometimes, a group that seemed like a great idea originally turns out to have been based upon false advertising. In other cases, a group drifts in a new direction without our noticing the shift in the winds.
Maybe you’ve noticed something that I've been seeing lately. Groups that used to be united over a shared topic are now fracturing in unexpected ways. This unexpectedness makes things tricky. When you don’t know who falls on which side of the fault line, you might be tempted to stay quiet and wait things out. It might seem like a good idea to ignore the elephant in the room.
If the silence becomes too much to handle, the splintering might mean you walk away. One day, you find yourself in no group at all.
Without a group, fear levels rise.
Divided, we fear we are the only one who thinks the way we think,
who believes the way we believe, or
who notices what we notice.
When we are afraid of not fitting in, we don’t act like ourselves.
We might cling more strongly to our chosen group. We might hold our tongue rather than speak our mind. Out of fear, we might even remain silent in the face of evil.
Silence in the face of evil will rob you of your peace. Every. Single. Time.
While silence is an important piece of the spiritual life, this type of silence is not prayerful. It is ultimately soul-sabotaging.
It’s not often that you stand face-to-face with evil. More likely, you’re faced with the opportunity to get to know a person a little better. To love a stranger or your neighbor.
In these cases, fear of division holds my tongue. Fear causes me to count the cost before I love. My self-selected silence disengages me from the very people I have the opportunity to love. I leave the interaction second-guessing myself.
This insidious type of silence robs me of my peace. And I find that once I’ve lost my peace to this kind of fear, remaining silent hoping someone will like me, I have a hard time regaining my peace.
Does this sound familiar?
No matter where you are right now, the winds of discourse are changing, and it is difficult to know what is “safe” to say.
If you’ve been feeling adrift, without the sense of safety a group offers, peace of mind might seem like an improbable aspiration. You are not alone.
In the coming weeks, I hope we can virtually share in each other’s courage to expand the presence of love.
Just as fear is contagious, its antidote is catching as well.
Courage restores peace. It helps us align our speech with our values and beliefs.
Courage is contagious. It helps us bring love into spaces where division encroaches.
Reading, seeing, hearing about other people’s expressions of courage helps me believe that I can be courageous too. It helps me to practice bringing love as a weapon to the knife-fight with evil.
Courage can spread from one person to another.
Courage unites rather than divides.
Lent begins this Wednesday.
This year, it may take an extra dose of courage to wear the cross of ashes on your forehead if you’re faith is wavering.
It may take an extra dose of courage to call your wayward family member and listen to what they have to say.
It may take an extra jolt of courage to stay informed about what is happening in the world.
It may take an extra bit of courage to sit in silent prayer and let Jesus love you.
In these days of fracture, I need more courage and maybe you do too. Over the course of the season of Lent, I’ll be sharing stories of courage. I hope you will follow along.
Yes 🙌 don’t we all need a little more courage these days. Looking forward to hearing your stories during Lent.
Looking forward to leaning into courage together. Thanks Katie.