When sister Mary marries Larry.

Tomorrow is a book yet to be written

So you’re one of those people a portion of the general population would include under headings like lefty, liberal (as in ‘candy-as**d liberal’), snowflake, or even ‘libtard’ (liberal+retard) and you’re already used to the epithets that come so easily to the tongues of the contards, conosaurs (conservative+dinosaur), right-wingers, fascists, luddites.

     So you’ve ended up with a brother-in-law who’s anti-immigration, is a climate-change denier, pipeline booster and tends toward borrowed rhetoric from pro-life, anti-vaxxers, anti gay marriage people and--you'll never get this--worships Donald Trump.

     So now you’re on your way to a family reunion at a retreat centre somewhere in southern Saskatchewan and you’ve still got two hours of driving ahead of you and you’re already dreading the inevitable exchange of monologues that go nowhere, make the hair on your neck bristle and leave a bad taste that lingers.

     So you vaguely sense that there should be choices when he says something like, “They should arrest all those doctors who shove needles into kids and inject them with poisons,” but ‘til now you’ve never been able to overcome the temptation to counter with an opposing argument. To you, Larry’s pronouncements seem so obviously wrong that you haven’t been able to resist implying, or saying outright, that he’s a flake. Your counter arguments haven’t had the effect of changing Larry’s mind, in fact, quite the opposite. He expresses his views more stridently every time you meet.

     Know also that whatever opinions we choose to embrace aren’t nearly as much arrived at through research and thinking as they are from a worldview that guides practically everything we do, a worldview that is as hard to give up as a religion.

     Also, Larry may be less obnoxious to you because of his worldview than his visceral need for combat. Neo-Nazis, white supremacists, even pro-life activists may be exhibiting a combat-drive equivalent to a sex-drive; there is a certain satisfaction (orgasm) involved in forming an army and “kicking the s**t out of” the paper tiger, even if it’s an effigy created in imagination. Along Antrim Road in Belfast in the ‘80s, kids would get antsy if there hadn’t been any explosions, street battles for a time; they had apparently become addicted to violence and mayhem. When we were there in 1988, two boys stole a transit bus, drove it into the country and set it on fire; purposeless, but it satisfied a hunger.

     We all like to think that others will change their views and come to think like us if we make our cases strongly enough, but we should know by now that arguing doesn’t change opinions, it hardens them. Another choice is needed, and here are a few to consider.

1. Agree with everything Larry says; use phrases like “Boy, have you got that right!” or “It really burns me up too!” Possibly even go beyond his assertions. If he says, “They should cut immigration numbers in half,” you say, “They should cut immigration altogether!” If Larry is the kind that relishes a quarrel, he may actually start arguing moderation, or else wander off to find a decent fencing opponent. -not recommended; insincerity obvious.
2. Avoid Larry altogether. Depending on the size of your family, this could be easy, or tricky. Larry may be looking for you and another chance to put you in your “libtard” place, but it’s worth a try. -not recommended except in extreme cases.
3. Control the conversation (Plan A), seek Larry out and jump in first with questions about his health, his children, his job or career, regale him with interest in his life and situation. Listen intently to his replies and the minute he sidesteps into any of his pet peeves, go to sports, cars, cameras, music, anything that pertains to realities you share. Make a list on a small piece of paper beforehand if necessary. -has possibilities.
4. Control the conversation (Plan B). “Larry, good to see you,” might be your opening line. After niceties, you say something like, “Say Larry, last time we talked you called vaccines poison and I’ve been thinking I’d like to hear more about why you believe that?” Most of our opinions have shallow roots; if your question comes across as a genuine ‘wanting to know,’ you may actually have guided the encounter into a real talking-listening, courteous dialogue. Most likely, you’ll still be at odds on the issue, but with luck, you’ll both leave with your dignity intact. -probably the best solution.
5. Be genuine about family solidarity. If this is a brother-in-law, you obviously have a family in common. Let your care for the family loyalty stuff overwhelm whatever opinion-differences tend to stick out like sore thumbs. Anything you do that comes across as a means to trap your “adversary” into an inconsistency will turn out to have been obvious, and will undermine both family solidarity and relationships that extend well beyond you and Larry . . . the worst case scenario. This is not a strategy, per se, but applies in whatever plan you cook up for the next time you meet Larry.

And if you’re a Christian, remember that Jesus advises us to treat others as we long to be treated and to extend a generosity of spirit even to our enemies. It’s not from our skill at quarreling that good causes prevail, but in the degree to which our behaviour matches our convictions. And as Anita said in her sermon last Sunday, learn to see the other as wounded, not bad. In that perspective, both you and Larry could use some healing; swift kicks to the behind, verbal daggers can’t accomplish this.

     An attitude and approach that treats Larry as I want to be treated is hard to maintain, but our faith never admonished us to give up on whatever is difficult. Quite the opposite.

     And never forget: to someone else, you might well be “a Larry.” Maybe even to Larry. 

P.S. To my nephew Larry, this Larry is not you. To my friend and former neighbour, this Larry is not you either. To my friend and current neighbour, this Larry is not you either. This is a hypothetical Larry. I could have called him John, or Pete but . . . well, you get the problem.