In This New Year, Let’s Respect the Humanity of Everyone

In December, I finished (slightly) revising and updating the 2020 book I wrote primarily for my children and grandchildren, the subtitle of which now is The Story of My Life from My Birth to My 85^th Birthday (1938~2023). My daughter Kathy (who lives nearby) helped in several ways, including doing some proofreading. 

A few times in my book, I used the word Black(s) to refer to African American people. Kathy, who is a teacher of gifted students in the local public school system, said that that terminology should be changed, and referred to the current recommendations of the APA in that regard.

In their style guide for writing, the American Psychological Association (APA) lists some “general principles for reducing bias,” one of which is “be sensitive to labels.” In that regard is this directive: “Acknowledge people’s humanity.” They went on to say,

Choose labels with sensitivity, ensuring that the individuality and humanity of people are respected. Avoid using adjectives as nouns to label people…or labels that equate people with their condition.

Although there are some descendants of enslaved people in this country who reportedly prefer to term Black to African American, I soon agreed with the APA’s guidelines, and with my insightful daughter.

This insight is something I heard more than 60 years ago from Wayne Oates, the professor of my seminary course in Pastoral Counseling.* I have not, though, sufficiently or consistently put that perspective into practice.

I still remember Dr. Oates telling us “preacher boys” (and I don’t remember even one female student in that course I took in 1961 or ’62) that in our work as pastors, we shouldn’t say things like we’re going to visit the sick or the elderly. Rather, we should always refer to them as sick or elderly people.

Oates, who had a Ph.D. in religious psychology, was emphasizing then what the APA is still stressing now: adjectives should not be used as nouns to label people. The humanity of all people should always be recognized.

Even the humanity of our enemies must be affirmed. That is one thing that impressed me when I read the Sojourners article that introduced and included an interview with Ali Abu Awwad, the Palestinian pacifist I wrote about in my previous blog post.** That article begins with these words:

A core principle of nonviolence is recognizing the humanity of your opponent.

Considerable progress has been made in this regard in recent years. In the public media, “slaves” are now usually referred to as enslaved people. Such language choice separates people's identity from their circumstance.

And just the other day, I was surprised to hear a newscaster on the radio refer to “people experiencing homelessness” rather than “the homeless.” That was another example of people’s humanity being emphasized over their current condition.

But what about Awwad’s emphasis on recognizing the humanity of one’s opponents or enemies? It is certainly commendable that as a Palestinian man he can see the humanity of the Israelis who incarcerated him.

Can Israelis or even us in this in country, though, recognize the humanity of Palestinians affiliated with Hamas? It is certainly easier to demonize such people—and the enemy in every war is demonized. That makes it much easier to kill them.

As an advocate of nonviolence, I agree with Awwad’s recognition of the humanity of all people, including enemies. After all, Jesus said to his followers, “…love your enemies and pray for those who harass you” (Matt. 5:44, CEB).

The Hamas fighters are usually called terrorists, and not without reason. But if we follow the guidelines given above, perhaps they should be called “desperate people engaging in terrorism [=the use of intentional violence and fear to achieve political or ideological aims].”

I do not in any way condone the 10/7 violent attacks on Israel. But I do want to affirm their humanity, and that affirmation comes partly from recognizing their legitimate grievances at the way Palestinians have been treated since 1948.  

There is no telling what may happen, in the Levant or the world as a whole, in this new year of 2024. But among other things, let us always endeavor to respect the humanity of all people.

_____

  * In my 10/20/14 blog post I wrote that Wayne Oates was “probably the wisest teacher I ever sat under.”

** Only after making my previous blog post did I learn that Awwad was one of two men awarded this year’s Indira Gandhi Prize for Peace, Disarmament and Development in December. That award was bestowed on Awwad for his “efforts towards a non-violent resolution of the Israel-Palestine conflict.” That prestigious Peace Prize has been awarded annually since its establishment in 1986. Jimmy Carter was the recipient of it in 1997.

“Remember You Are Dust”

Growing up as a Baptist, I didn’t hear much about Ash Wednesday or Lent. In my years in the States before going to Japan, including the nine years I was a Baptist pastor, I don’t recall hearing or making any mention of them as a part of worship or Christian practice.

For several years, however, I have observed Lent to a certain extent and have attended a few Ash Wednesday services, which concluded with a cross being made on my forehead with ashes.

For some reason, until last year I had never paid much attention to the words that were spoken then. Perhaps different words were used in the previous services I had attended, but last year the minister said, “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

I was moved to think about my own mortality by those simple words, maybe more than ever before. Of course, I had never been 75 years old before. Those of us who are 75 or older surely need to think about our mortality, for most of us have only a few years left on this earth.

But even for you who are much younger, the end of your time on this earth is coming, too.

Dr. Wayne Oates, my pastoral counseling professor whom I wrote about last October, was talking in class one day about visiting people who were terminally ill. He mentioned that it is common to say about such people, “Well, it is just a matter of time now.”

Dr. Oates then looked intently at us students and said something like this: “But never forget: that is true for all of us. Some have more time left than others, but it is just a matter of time for everyone.”

People do all sorts of things to keep from thinking about the fact that someday they are going to die—and certainly it is morbid to think about one’s mortality too much. But, regrettably, many people don’t want to think about it at all. 

Last week I read the following words in a Facebook posting by Carol, a woman about my same age who now lives in my hometown:

Someone added beneath those words, “Slow down. Enjoy the day. Live in the moment. It all goes so fast.” And Carol made this brief comment: “So true.” I agree—and would also add, “But don’t forget to prepare for the end.”

One of my favorite people is Dr. Tony Campolo, professor emeritus in sociology at Eastern University in Pennsylvania. As many of you know, he is also an ordained Baptist minister, a popular speaker and a prolific author—and next Wednesday, Feb. 25, is his 80^th birthday.

One year on Good Friday, Dr. Campolo heard a fellow minister preach a sermon regularly repeating the phrase, “It’s Friday, but Sunday’s comin’.” Campolo later wrote a book published (in 1984) under that title.

So today is Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent, that 40-day period of reflection and preparation for the celebration of Easter, which will be on April 5 this year. This evening I have the privilege of leading the Ash Wednesday service at the Rosedale Congregational Church in Kansas City, Kansas, where I am serving as interim pastor this month.

When making a cross with ashes on the foreheads of those who come for that purpose, I am going to add to the traditional words. I plan to say to each one “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return—to wait for your glorious resurrection.”

It’s Ash Wednesday, but Easter’s coming!  

Thank God for Wise Teachers (and Workaholics)

Dr. Wayne E. Oates was probably the wisest teacher I ever sat under—and since I was a full-time student for 22 years, from 1944 to 1966, I had a lot of teachers.

Oates was born into a poor South Carolina family in 1917, and he passed away 15 years ago tomorrow, on Oct. 21, 1999. Abandoned by his father in infancy, young Wayne was brought up by his grandmother and sister while his mother supported them by working in a cotton mill.

At the age of fourteen he was one of a small number of impoverished boys selected to serve as a page in the U.S. House of Representatives. Stimulated by that experience, he became the first of his family to go to college.

Oates went on to earn a doctor’s degree in the psychology of religion and then taught at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary (SBTS) from 1947 to 1974 and at the University of Louisville Medical School after that.

When I was in his pastoral counseling class at SBTS, I made an appointment to talk with Dr. Oates about a troublesome matter in the church I was serving as pastor. After listening carefully to my explanation of the problem, he leaned toward me and said, “Brother Seat, there are some situations we just can’t change. All we can do is learn from them.”

Wise words!

Several years later, in 1971, Dr. Oates wrote a book titled Confessions of a Workaholic. He begins, “Workaholism is a word which I have invented. It is not in your dictionary.”

But now “workaholic” is in most dictionaries. In a brief article about his death, the New York Times reported that Oates’s 1971 book resulted in “workaholic” being added “to the American lexicon; the Oxford English Dictionary credits him with inventing it.”

At the age of 66, Dr. Oates wrote an autobiographical book titled The Struggle to Be Free. The first chapter is about his boyhood and the struggle to be free of poverty.

Next he writes about the struggle to be free from a feeling of inferiority. “Poverty,” he contends, “leaves you with wounds to your self-esteem” (p. 29).

“To Be Free from the Slavery of Overcommitment” is the title of the seventh chapter, and there Dr. Oates tells how he wrote the book about workaholism because of his own struggle with "an overcommitment to work.”

He came to realize that part of the reason for that was due to the poverty he had experienced as a boy. He writes, “I do not think that economics determines our destiny. I do think that economics shapes our thoughts and decisions far more than the pious people of the earth know or are willing to admit” (p. 136).

Throughout his lifetime, Dr. Oates wrote 57 books—far more than he probably would have written if he had not been a workaholic. (In some cases we can thank God for workaholics!)

Those books have been greatly beneficial not only to his many students and to other teachers in the field of counseling, but also to many people in the general public who have been able to learn from the wisdom shared in his books.

Please join me in thanking God for wise teachers—and even for workaholics like Dr. Oates.