Nobody is right. Nobody is wrong.
Let me explain.
My buddy Eric has lamented the fact that we can’t have a good, old-fashioned gentleman’s disagreement these days. Everybody seems to insist on identifying with their ideas to such an extent that to challenge an idea is tantamount to a slap in the face. This is strange, considering how little thought most people seem to put into the ideas they defend with such vigor - or at least, venom. It is a feature of the “spirit of the age” that serves to inoculate people against their responsibility to seek out and align with truth. At best, it reinforces the status quo; at worst, it slaps handcuffs on reasoned argument and plunges the marketplace of ideas into entropy.
Anyway, Eric’s point was that as followers of Christ, the value we place on a person who subscribes to an idea has nothing to do with the value we place on the idea itself. We love people - period. We test and approve ideas as an independent matter. We must not identify - some might say, “label” - people with what they believe.
How we assess a person’s actions is another story, but some of the same ideas apply; to wit, “Love the sinner; hate the sin.” It is much like the way I discipline my children: I love my children unconditionally and absolutely. My love for them is not diminished when I hand down a punishment for disobedience or misbehavior: I do not identify my children with what they do. This is very freeing - my children actually profit from their punishments, because they know I love them and what’s happening does not jeopardize our relationship.
Perhaps that’s a risky choice of analogies, because we ought not be paternalistic in dealing with anyone but our own children. But I digress.
Risky or not, the analogy illustrates that when our love is undeniably obvious, our corrections and objections can be more engaging than threatening.
So how do you get from charitably disagreeing on ideas to saying, “Nobody is right or wrong?”
An idea is right or wrong. A person is “in the right” or “in the wrong;” “correct” or “mistaken.” Maybe it’s too fine of a point, but it underscores the fact that my attitude toward a person must be divorced from my attitude toward his ideas.
Which is constructive in resolving a dispute? To say “you’re wrong,” or “you are mistaken?” “Wrong” implies a judgment about the essence of the person; “mistaken” does much more work by framing the assessment with respect to a particular issue.
So to be accurate and constructive, it might be best to discard the phrases, “you’re right” and “you’re wrong,” and find ways to help your detractors and supporters maintain a clear distinction between a person - for whom Christ died, and whom we are commanded to love - and the ideas he happens to hold at a particular time. Only when that distinction is clear can we really lovingly disagree.
Or I could be wrong.
