Working together helps us thrive

  • Published
  • By Chaplain Steve Torgerson
  • 60th Air Mobility Wing Chaplain
TRAVIS AIR FORCE BASE, Calif. --  I have six children. Two of them are in their thirties. It is no exaggeration to say I have been breaking up fights for thirty years, hundreds and hundreds of fights. I've dealt with a hundred in a day - driving across country. The scenario is nearly always the same. A fight breaks out and I ask Stephanie, "What's going on back there?"


"I'll tell you what's going on back here," she says with all the righteous indignation a kid can muster. "Shane kicked me!"
"Shane, why did you do that?" I query.

"I'll tell you why I did that," he proclaims with equal indignation, "I did that because she grabbed my game."
"Stephanie, why did you take his game?" I ask.

"I took his game because he took my crayon?" she says with tears.
"Why did you take her crayon?" I ask in exasperation.

"I took her crayon because she marked one of my game pieces with it," he rails.

Ad infinitum it goes. Thirty years, six kids, hundreds and hundreds of fights and never once has one of my children said, "Sorry Dad, things got away from me for a few moments. It's my fault." What a day of celebration that would be! There'd be no repercussions. It would call for Baskin Robbins - one for the record books.

Unfortunately, we don't grow out of this proclivity. It's part of adult nature too. If you have doubts look at political ads - they appear to have been formulated in the back seat on a long family trip. You'd think we'd learn. You'd think we'd be suspicious. As often as our thoughts have led us astray we should realize our brain isn't our friend. What it does best is justify everything it wants to do.

This quirk allows us to hang on to addictions that prevent us from excelling; be angry in situations where accountability is more appropriate. It allows us to misplace ourselves in the best light and others in the worst. It is the stuff of wars and family breakups. We're prevented from maturing. Deep, meaningful relationships allude. The stronger our "righteous" stand the more isolated we'll be - fatefully, stewing in a lonely cauldron of our own creation.

"Torgerson, you're an idiot! You've messed up again and are the source of all our trouble." Some have come close to saying and quite justifiably, I'm sure.
"You haven't even begun to scratch the tip of the iceberg with what's wrong with me," would be my most appropriate response.

It's true. If they knew my battles they'd have worse things to say. That is, of course, unless they'd seen equally disturbing things about themselves. Then they'd understand the maxim, "Let she who is without sin cast the first stone." To call out each other's faults and dodge our own is not beneficial. The world becomes better when we're aware of our partiality; when we recognize our penchant to excuse ourselves even as we accuse another. It doesn't even help to get down on ourselves. The best we can do is face our dilemma with good humor and a desire to give each other the understanding we'd also like to receive.

In all honesty, I haven't heard a snarky comment from my older children in years. It's not that they don't see the problems. Now they feel a responsibility to help each other through.
"We're all in the same boat on a stormy sea," G.K. Chesterton said, "We owe each other a terrible loyalty." Those who want to be part of a thriving community learn how to bail each other out.