The 2020 election cycle has come to an end—maybe? Winners have been chosen, but rancor, tensions and longstanding issues regarding injustice and inequity will remain centerstage. Tribal polarizing points of view and legislative, ideological gridlock will thwart progress unless courage to change is embraced by all of us. My thoughts during this time are as scattered as my anxiety is focused and the scatter and focus, however divergent, are driven by the same relentless uncertainty.
I’m finding solace in the words of old “friends.”
“Father give [me] courage to change what must be altered, serenity to accept what cannot be helped, and the insight to know the one from the other.”
My first brief exposure to the Serenity Prayer occurred at Wheaton College in a political science class in which the political philosophy of American theologian Reinhold Niebuhr was mentioned. Arrogant and rebellious, I thought his “serenity prayer” platitudinous and irrelevant.
Years later, while attending graduate school at Fuller Theological Seminary, Niebuhr’s prayer came up in a seminar exploring the possible integration of theological beliefs with psychological theory. His words (original version) quoted above, gained a foothold in my soul as I embraced some of the author’s ideas about inequality, pride and self-righteousness, and the perils of individualism. One of the two professors, one each from the seminary and School of Psychology, wrote the following on the blackboard, a sentence poignant then and today as it addressed reality and hope: “Man’s capacity for justice makes democracy possible; but man’s inclination to injustice makes democracy necessary.” His thoughts about politics, philosophy, human nature, and God remained powerful for me—but only intellectually relevant. This would be altered, and just in time.
The Serenity Prayer, although powerful in its simplicity, became deeply personal for me in the summer of ’94. Serial relationships and excessive alcohol consumption had made a shambles of my personal life. Playing sports, running marathons, and keeping a full psychotherapy practice had created an arrogance, and filled me with false self-confidence. I lived as if I were immortal—denying that I’d lost my way. A friend invited me to attend an AA meeting with him. I took it as a challenge, accepted, and with the same bravado and hubris that I approached other challenges, I committed to attending ninety meetings in ninety days.
Over the three-month period that I attended meetings, the majority of them located near the beaches of Santa Monica and Malibu, California (away from my Pasadena area home and practice) where I could run on the beach, read and meditate at dawn. I took on the Serenity Prayer, a version made popular by AA, as my mantra:
“God, give [me] grace to accept with Serenity the things that cannot be changed, Courage to change the things which should be changed, and the Wisdom to distinguish the one from the other.”
Reinhold Niebuhr’s words helped me take inventory of my life, a work in progress that has successes and failures and is defined by the thought I’m trying. His prayer has renewed meaning for me in 2020, a year when long standing issues of injustice and inequity, and the COVID-19 pandemic once again make me take inventory. As the year approaches its chronological end his plea and exhortation give me hope for change, and moments of serene resolve to accept what I cannot change. The temptation then was to “close my eyes,” avoid unpleasant realities, a seduction I feel today, but resist.
Will I be merciful to those with whom I disagree and often count as enemies?
Shylock spoke these words in Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice, words that I pray will guide me as I slip into vilifying those who espouse points of view that are opposites of mine, and where the author wrote the word “Jew” you might substitute a word that identifies your “opponents” or “enemies” or “adversaries”:
Hath not [your adversaries] eyes? Hath not [an enemy] hands, organs, dimensions, senses affections, passions? Fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a [I am]? If you prick [them], do [they] not bleed? If you tickle [them], do [they] not laugh? If you poison [your opponents], do [they] not die?
Jesus taught that the merciful are blessed, as are the persecuted.
The theologian, playwright and prophet get it. What we share is more than what pulls us apart. In a world of uncertainty may I accept with serenity that some things cannot be changed, embrace with courage the things I can, and patient wisdom to know one from the other.
Here’s to what lies ahead, a work in progress…
by 
From a friend…
The Buddha said: “Suffering is resistance to what is.”
There’s solace in this, thank you.
Roger
A friend wrote: “…as one who continues to feel anxious about our world these days, who hesitates to believe that there is hope for a more peaceful and gentle future, your words helped me feel calm and trusting.”
Thank you, and know you’re not alone.
Roger
Thank you Roger for raising a challenge that affects so many of us in this politically divisive moment. I find that some of the political/cultural issues touch “hot buttons” – deep-seated values and assumptions about myself, my family, my country – of which I am hardly aware. I guess another 12 step guideline may be applicable here – “progress, not perfection!”
Ned,
Thanks for reading and commenting. Like you my assumptions and values are challenged and the discomfort of that becomes a reminder that it is “progress, not perfection” that we seek. Thanks for the reminder.
Roger
Your words give credence to the turmoil I feel, struggling to accept this clear divide in the voters of our country. I wonder who the non-voters are and how they feel? I cannot understand those many “others” who can still support a leader who spews hateful, divisive rhetoric, and routinely tells undeniable bold faced lies. I know we should look for that greater common humanity we share, but it seems elusive, impossible to find…..how can we discover or create a means to bridge that chasm? I too am “trying” to accept what I cannot change, seeking something to address with courage that I can change, and praying to find the wisdom to discern that difference. I feel a glimmer of hope, moments of serenity, and pray every day. Thank you for helping to open my heart and challenge my mind with this piece. Ever onward…….
Colette,
The “trying” aspects of living fully, at least for me, often are overwhelmed by my need to have arrived–acceptance, forgiveness, and loving included. We can encourage each other to be patient and tolerant of our incessant impatience.
I’m trying too…
Thanks for reading and commenting.
Roger
Thanks for challenging others to look at self and see how we can behave differently.
Someone has said that wisdom is what you learn after you think you know it all. Learning to name injustice and advocating for reconciliation is more necessary now than ever. Being silent changes nothing. There is a difference between complicity and advocacy.
Alan,
Thanks for reading and commenting. I’m aware of wanting to check my coat of know-it-all (ness) in life’s ever present cloakroom, but often find I’ve taken my seat at the table still fully clothed. Thanks for these reminders.
Roger
Beautifully written piece, Roger. I, too, attended AA meetings in Santa Monica in the 90s. Amazing synergy. Ten years later we met at Carmen’s writer’s group. So much life has happened in the last twenty years. I am so happy and grateful that one of the beautiful threads of continuity is our connection that we kept alive. I also needed to grow into the serenity prayer with its profound simplicity. Like our writing teacher once said, the simpler a book, the more difficult it was to write. How deceiving simplicity can be. To cull something down into it’s essence is brilliance. As always, you leave with thoughts ponder.
Jo Anne,
Thanks for spending time with me. The writers’ group was stimulating. I recall one member’s motorcycle trip across Russia in search of his family’s roots–an intriguing story that he refused to revise beyond his first draft–a story untold. I often recall his stance as I kvetch through each revision I write! Here’s to simplicity, but with revisions!
Roger
Roger,
Another well written article. There is a big difference between what we can and cannot do. I would rather do the right thing and suffer for it, than to do the wrong thing and prosper. But the things that are beyond our influence belong to God alone. Thank God that He is in control of all things. Looking forward to your next writing.
Cy
Cy,
Thank you for reading and commenting. Too often the serenity and courage I feel, the wisdom too, are false, accommodations to a world in chaos as well as to a fragile and timid faith–I keep trying, and hoping!
Roger