Blessed Are the Ambivalent

~ by Julius Nam who teaches religion at Loma Linda University and blogs at www.progressiveadventism.com.

This past month I threw a usual December cinematic feast for myself. In between “Mission Impossible 3” and missed episodes of “Gilmore Girls” on Youtube, I watched three movies that all had to do with 9/11, Middle East relations, and fundamentalism—Paradise Now, Munich, and United 93. Each was entertaining, satisfying, instructive, inspiring, and disturbing in its own way; I recommend them all.

Whether it was Paradise Now, Munich, or even United 93, what intrigued me the most was the way the filmmakers portrayed terrorists and assassins. These are characters caught in the seemingly irreversible course of events with irresistible forces pressing upon them. Whether it was exacting revenge on terrorists or wreaking havoc in their oppressors’ land, doing what they were selected and ordered to do was the “right” thing to do within the matrix of their beliefs. Yet each film also has characters that are ambivalent about the acts of violence that they are about to commit. Percolating beneath the expressions of fundamentalist conviction and righteous indignation are doubts about the rightness of their cause and the appropriateness of their actions. Still . . . they proceed—chucking their moral struggles aside, plowing ahead with blind determination, believing and trying to believe intently that they are in the right.

Faith spells danger, even death, in this world of contrary and seemingly incompatible religious convictions. Yet each religion calls for greater faith, for deeper convictions, and for higher commitment from its adherents. The measuring stick for spirituality as touted in many of our halls of worship is the intensity of one’s beliefs—ignoring the fact that the same beliefs, when bent a little toward the right or driven just a few steps further to fringes, is the fuel that fans the fire of murderous fanaticism.

I wish that religions would put a premium on ambivalence as much as the filmmakers of my December movies. Things of the divine and the supernatural are mysteries that force us to question as much as they require us to believe. Being ambivalent means to be unsure—unsure about our understanding of the true nature of reality, about the true nature of our understanding, about the rightness of our convictions. Moreover, it means to be OK about being unsure.

Just as faith requires courage and discipline, so does ambivalence. It resists the urge to arrive at conclusions and move ahead with them. It does not hastily settle or line up “facts” to build incomplete arguments that are proclaimed as truth. It questions, doubts, wrestles, and grapples with the tension called life. It neither chucks moral struggles aside nor proceeds with blind determination.

Whether one is a Jew, Buddhist, Muslim, Christian, or an Atheist, I submit that each tradition is richly blessed by embracing the value of ambivalence. Why? Because ambivalence leads to humility—even in the midst of our deep convictions. It demonstrates to one another that knowledge of the ultimate couched in individual traditions and conceptual frameworks is incomplete and unable to offer truly satisfying answers to all of life’s questions. It prevents us from realizing the triumphalist fantasies of our faiths and tempers the arrogance of our traditions.

Thanks to the three films, I’m reminded of Christ whose birth I celebrated also this month. One who exemplified a mysterious blend of conviction and humility; one who showed a great deal of ambivalence over the blind adulation of the masses; one who questioned the validity of his will in relation to the divine; one who wondered out loud on the cross whether or not God was with him. So, my wish for you this year—dear friend—is that you grow into a person of great ambivalence, and therefore of great faith. In this new year, may you find yourself reveling in the mystery of the divine.

Comments

[Alan Hirsch]

Samir, you are wonderfully articulate my friend. I look forward to visiting this blog from time to time.

And anyone who reads and loves Heschel is a friend of mine.

[Nathan Brown]

Long-time Oxford scholar and teacher C S Lewis is reported to have commented: “One of my main efforts as a teacher has been to train people to say those (apparently difficult) words ‘we don’t know.’”
In my Christian tradition and in other traditions I have opportunity to observe, it's amazing how we miss the importance of these words, even when the point is even made in the Bible: "Anyone who claims to know all the answers doesn’t really know very much” (1 Corinthians 8:2).

[Sean Evans]

In the article, the Julius Nam states the following: "Being ambivalent means to be unsure—unsure about our understanding of the true nature of reality, about the true nature of our understanding, about the rightness of our convictions. Moreover, it means to be OK about being unsure."

Ambivalence is an interesting thing, as it tends to come about when there are competing/conflicting/contradicting ideas, fantasies, experiences, feelings, hopes, dreams, etc. As religious folk, we have difficulty with contradictions, conflicts and competition. Admittedly, I have only seen one of the three films reviewed (Munich). However, Munich left me deeply conflicted and angry and sad and scared. I wanted both revenge and peace. I desired to both kill and to heal. Deep within the human psyche seems to be competing drives that propel us towards creation (perhaps Creation would be more appropriate) and destruction. Towards life and death. Towards love and indifference. What method/process/journey/dialogue/etc does one engage in to deal with ambivalence? Because, I would argue that the characters in these films, at least in Munich, were deeply ambivalent about their “mission.” I am wondering if the world needs a better way to manage ambivalence rather than more ambivalence.

[Julius]

Certainty and ambivalence--neither is an absolute good or evil. I guess I wanted to communicate that and to give a more positive spin on the latter while cautioning against too much of the former.

You're right, Sean. Ambivalence is not an end; it too must be held in tension.

We err by painting everything black or white. We also err by painting everything grey...or is it gray?