How Not to Throw Stones

I appreciate opposition. This is handy, as I seem to have a knack for running into it. At its best, opposition makes us stop and think. It's good to have stones tossed, from time to time, into our streams of consciousness. Our worlds expand with their ripples.

So, in the interest of constructive stone-tossing, I decided to share what I've learned about the stones of opposition.

* Any argument based on anger or fear - or designed to spark anger or fear in someone else - is automatically suspect. Stones must be tossed gently and never thrown. At anyone.

* A certain genre of talk-show and media specializes in stirring anger and fear in their followers. This is not good stone-tossing. Fear and anger are blunt instruments, and the messy result is usually a population that is scared, mad, and sometimes out of control.

* At its best, politics is full of healthy stone-tossing. When done properly, the tug-of-war between right and left, conservative and liberal, provides us all with stability and momentum. History always tips toward change: to think that a mere hundred years ago, women's suffrage was considered a shockingly liberal idea. This tension caused by the flow of history should probably inspire a lame analogy involving rolling stones and moss, but one eludes me at the moment.

Note: We have heard it said that "if a man is not a liberal at 20, he has no heart and if he is not a conservative at 30, he has no brain." The quote varies with each repetition, but the original came from François Guizot (1787-1874), not Winston Churchill as some believe. Since Mr. Guizot was also known for seeking to ban political meetings and limiting suffrage to propertied men only, this is rather an odd stone to throw.

* Stones should be used as building blocks, not for stoning. Unfortunately - thanks in part to pundits, chain emails and questionable websites - we are in danger of forgetting how to toss stones constructively in this country. Anything that can be spun, is. If there is a fear that can possibly be sparked, the fires are lit. And the idea that two people can love the same country, want the best for it, and yet see things differently, is being eroded.

If I were wiser and more insightful, I might find a cure for this pervasive ill. But a Jewish carpenter soon facing death already did that. As he sat in the temple court one fine afternoon, the mob of well-dressed, upstanding citizens found their way to him. "Teacher," they said, throwing a woman to the ground before him, "she was caught in adultery. The law says we should stone her. Whaddaya say?" And Jesus didn't argue with the hatred and fear behind their broken theology. He just quietly plunked a little stone into the stream of their angry consciousness: "OK," he said, "but first pitch goes to the guy who's never done anything wrong himself." Most of us know the rest of the story.

And so, it seems, the true secret to handling the stones of opposition is not mine: it lies in the mercy with which we make our toss. Anything less will leave us angry, confused, and on the rocks.