What I Write About

I write about the infinite number of intersections between every day life and the good news of the God who has come to get us.

Thursday, July 13, 2006

Complaining about Complaining

In the next 24 hours notice how much complaining is the basic, root currency of conversation in advertising, among friends, and in small talk between two strangers. Then notice how much complaining you do or are tempted to do.

As Americans, we complain a lot. Some complaining is good: when injustice is done, it is right to complain. But bracket off legitimate complaints about injustice and wrongs in our society, and we're still a nation of complainers. I think that there's a couple reasons for this.

First, we weren't made for a fallen, broken world. We were made for a perfect, friction-free place. Instead, on this side of the Great and Terrible Exchange, we live in a world of mosquitoes, broken sewage pumps (that $1,000 expense wasn't in the budget for this week), and annoying people. Sin and brokenness is a parasite that robs us of our humanity. So we complain.

Secondly, as a derivation of the first and to quote the Rolling Stones, you can't always get what you want. Davis wants Animal Crackers instead of Cheerios, so he complains. I felt I was being slighted a couple weeks ago in a work situation, so I complained last night to someone in my small group. Living in The Land of the Ruins is hard. We have to process all the dissonance somehow, so we complain.

But I think really at the core of it is something else. We all long for intimacy and genuine relationships. But relating at that caliber and level is deeply difficult, requires lots of consistency over time, and it requires tons of relational/emotional risk.

Complaining is quicker, easier, and requires very little thought or work. Complaining is cheap initimacy. You and I lift our voices to complain about the weather, the incompetent repair man, the mean boss, our frustrating spouses, our unfair teacher, whatever. If we're both complaining about the same thing, it feels like we're connecting on a level that requires very little risk yet still feels pretty good.

My theology professor called this "fellowship in darkness." We feed the darkness in each other's souls as we egg one another on in complaining. We connect cheaply, complain loudly, and walk away more enslaved to cynicism, more deeply marked and scarred by life in the Land of the Ruins, not less so.

Somehow we must find a holy balance between authentically working through the legitimate hardships in our lives and the pettiness that drives so much of the complaining in our relationships--starting for me with my whiney complaint last night.

No comments: