In these days of widespread – including my own – moral outrage at sacerdotal pedophilia and episcopal cover-up, this sentence from Richard Rohr’s The Naked Now stopped me in my moralistic tracks: “Moral outrage at the ideas of others hardly ever serves God’s purposes, only our own.” (p. 132)
Rohr is right, uncomfortably but also enigmatically right. Outrage, in itself, is not improper. Indeed, in our world of so few big fish eating so many little fish – whether in the market-place or in church-space – it is an ethical imperative.
But the problem seems to be that one’s moral outrage or righteous indignation so easily establishes a neat black-and-white relationship of us/them, which is really a relationship of good/bad. And if the difference between us is that we’re the good guys and they’re the bad guys, we have a relationship that isn’t going to go anywhere. All we can do is shout at each other. We can’t really talk to each other because we can’t really hear each other. Philosophers will call this a situation of dualism – either/or. And an “either” can never connect with an “or.”
So, how can we be “outraged” without become “dualistic,” without making it an either/or between good/bad? How can we declare our opposition to something without cutting off our connection with that something?
I suggest to myself and to others that perhaps we can prevent our outrage and opposition from becoming dualistic if we voice that outrage and carry out that opposition with two virtues:
- HUMILITY: In declaring what we think is wrong or what we believe needs fixing, we have to feel, and we have to enable others to feel, that we recognize our own limitations. We are conscious that in speaking strongly we can never speak definitively. There’s always more to learn. There are always other perspectives. And yes, we may be wrong. We know that. And we must be aware of that as we voice our outrage.
- COMPASSION: In opposing others, we can and must also care about them. Once our outrage about others leads to the hatred of others, we’ve lost all chance to change them or the situation – as well as any chance to change ourselves. I can oppose you in a way that you know I care about you. That’s the only way opposition has any chance of leading to cooperation.
If we can be outraged but at the very same time humble and compassionate – then, and maybe only then, can our outrage serve God’s purposes.
That’s quite a challenge, but the truth of it resonates with me. Whether I’m up to it or not is yet to be determined. I’ve got the outrage down pat, now to work on the humble and compassionate parts.
“Hope has two beautiful daughters; their names are anger and courage. Anger that things are the way they are. Courage to make them the way they ought to be.” – St. Augustine of Hippo.
I think it cuts both ways. Yes, outrage must be married to humility and compassion – those most Christlike virtues that keep our compass pointing in the right direction. But the outrage is not to be disregarded as false righteousness. It is the response to the reality of injustice. The most difficult of all is the courage that is required, which Augustine points to; there is where the synthesis must take place: hope, compassion, humility and anger all together. Picking one requires less effort. Compassionate outrage? We’re still working on that.
The addition of “courage” to the mix of outrage, humility, and compassion is very important. Thank you. You also mention “anger.” That makes the mix a bit more volatile. I guess anger is going to be mixed with “outrage.” If you’re outraged, you’re probably also angry. That’s okay. Problems arise, however, when we not only feel and register anger, but when we act out of it. If anger, rather than compassion, is directing our actions, I’m afraid we might make things worse. That’s why Buddhists are very wary of anger. They recognize it. But they don’t want it to hang around long as we decide what we are going to do.