No Jerks Allowed

During an exchange with an east coast friend about my most recent CrossCurrents post on agape-love, he referenced a beautiful contemplative reflection which can be found on the grounds of the National Shrine of the North American Martyrs in upstate New York, “There is a withholding that doesn’t enrich and a giving that doesn’t impoverish.” I begin with this quote because it so eloquently elucidates the delicacy of a second type of love, philautia (fee-lah-TEE-ah), which I wish to explore below.

Philautia, a term from Ancient Greek philosophy, translates to "self-love" and refers to a healthy and balanced regard for oneself - the key recognition being how difficult it is to establish and maintain a proper equilibrium. This is the theme of many Greek tragedies involving hubris and power, and you see it manifest today through the self-absorbed on the one hand and people struggling with their own self-worth on the other. It’s such a slippery slope! Each time you acknowledge your own growth or humility, you run the risk of a pride-induced slide. Conversely, imposter syndrome and other doubt producing phenomena often chip away at the well earned satisfaction of personal progress.

Truth is, I've been looking forward to writing this as it is allowing me to unpack a short-lived relationship that still holds sway over me today. What effect it has had on me I cannot fully articulate, but it has stayed with me nonetheless. It started on December 10, 2019 when I was introduced to Ed through an email from a common acquaintance. Ed was a man of ambition, and the next day I received a follow up email from him that included a rather lengthy and personal bio that included the statement, “Ed, 79, is in his fourth quarter, but he is still playing a good game. His ambition is to die the happiest, most joyful man that ever lived. And he is almost there.” He then went on to lay out in about 50 words an aspirational goal and initiative that left me wondering if he truly grasped its magnitude. He and I scheduled a time to talk on the phone the next day.

Ed was a very successful businessman who had amassed vast wealth. Though funding his initiative would not be a concern, I had doubts about certain aspects of his project and I committed to provide him with my honest assessment. It was a rigorous and lengthy phone call, and seven days later, the week before Christmas, I was on a plane to Denver to continue the conversation. The ensuing two days were filled with spirited discussions about education, his initiative, politics, religion, and more. The dialogue was often direct (twenty minutes into our car ride from the airport to the hotel he asked me what I thought of a particularly polarizing politician from the time). Though it was apparent that he had strong convictions, I always felt free to disagree.

I’d like to say that Ed was complicated but in fact I think the opposite was actually true. I believe he spent a lot of time thinking about a cohesive life narrative in order to construct a few enduring principles that he adhered to with great intent. This enabled him to address complexity from a personal position of strength. He also readily and regularly shared these principles, the effect of which was to communicate to others a degree of integrity and reliability. My assumption is that most people who knew him would have little trouble surmising Ed’s position on a given topic.

Over our time together, the principle he shared most often was the one central to his business success; when it comes to the workplace, there are “no jerks allowed.” I found this interesting coming from a person who clearly liked being in charge and appeared to revel in rigorous debate. It wasn’t until the plane ride home that I realized why this particular encounter felt different than certain others I had experienced with persons of authority; I felt truly heard and valued as opposed to acknowledged and placated. Ed really wanted to understand me and he wanted to share what he valued in the hope that I might benefit. What at times had felt hard was really Ed’s attempt to forge a deeper kinship. Ed was perched at the precipice of properly ordered philautia. He loved himself for who he was in that moment while simultaneously understanding that there was more yet to become. He recognized that withholding himself from the scrutiny of others would not enrich, and sharing his humanity would not impoverish.

Ed and I continued communicating in the weeks ahead and on January 15, 2000, I received the following note.

Jeff,

You and I are very much on the same page. Fight the good fight.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but that was his way of signing off. I would not hear from him again, and he would succumb to cancer within a matter of months. He never mentioned his illness to me - perhaps he hadn’t known at the time of our visit - but five weeks of knowing Ed was enough to fill our shared cup.

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I mention all of this because I worry about our collective capacity for self-love, and I fear that some within the self-help movement might be stunting our journeys. This is particularly true of our youth. Contemporary instructions about the pathway to self-love often emphasize a person’s physical and mental journeys, advocating for exercise, some form of meditative practice, and self-forgiveness. These are certainly important elements of self-care that are part and parcel of self-love, but self-love will not be attained solely through their practice.

First and foremost, self-love through a Christian lens requires a surrendering to the recognition that we are already deeply loved simply through the grace of our birth. This is the foundation of human dignity, and it leads to a second recognition that all love is experiential and relational - especially self-love. It is only through our encounters (good and bad) that we are able to appreciate our worthiness and capacity. This, then, leads to a third recognition which is that self-love does not occupy a fixed position. The instant you recognize that you love yourself, you must resist the urge to stay in that moment as it would deny you the opportunity to rediscover that love again. Finally, this leads to action. Self-love requires a response. We exercise. We meditate and pray. We practice forgiveness. We no longer withhold but give. Philautia inspires agape. Where self-love is concerned, there are no jerks allowed.

Unfortunately, many get hung up at the beginning stages of this revelatory process, particularly young people. Through their own sin and doubt, they fail to recognize God’s love and to lay claim to their dignity. Feelings of worthiness and capacity are not readily accessible. Instead, they bully or get bullied. They build fortresses. They withhold, often in an effort to curate an image of what they believe would be a more desirable self. To a certain degree this is embedded in the developmental DNA of adolescence, and it plays out in virtually every teen-inhabiting household at least for a time. And as we all know, social media isn’t doing us any favors to address the issue.

What does help, though, are caring, patient adults - parents, teachers, counselors, social workers, and neighbors - modeling the way. Unfortunately, access to an array of supportive adults is uneven. This, once again, is where Catholic schools have a record of making a difference. Catholic schools’ mission oriented environment provides an abundance of leaven for young people to grow toward a healthy acknowledgment of self. Whether it's the Christ-centered predisposition of teachers and staff, the Church’s (and, thus the schools’) teachings on human dignity and the preferential option for the poor, retreats, service opportunities and more, Catholic schools are filled with encounters big and small that shine a light on their students’ unique giftedness. For many, this experience is life changing.

But what about for those where it’s not? Some view their Catholic school experience with indifference while a few harbor contempt. For a myriad of reasons some students aren’t able to access and connect to the rhythms of the school in the same way. Was the experience simply lost on them? I don’t think so and it’s specifically because of the early-stage development of self-love. Even for the most ardent student critics who reject the Church’s teachings and the associated school experiences they endured, it’s only due to a conceptual understanding of human dignity that would allow them to make such a choice. This alone provides hope. While a world where no jerks are allowed is not realistic, it’s only through the planting and nurturing of the seeds of self-love that a more hope-filled future is possible. On this front, Catholic schools have done a good bit of gardening. 

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CONTRIBUTOR: Jeff Hausman, AVLI President

vol 7 issue 5