Immediately after college I went to live in Japan for two years. I taught English in a number of places, among them a girl’s high school. There was an official formality about the place, which manifested whenever I stepped in a classroom: the students stood up. And while walking through the halls from one class to another, students would bow before me. At first I was uncomfortable receiving these time-honored cultural demonstrations of respect; I felt I didn’t deserve them. But I eventually adjusted, and over time began to take longer walks through the hallways so I could drink in their homage. The standing and bowing didn’t necessarily make me feel more worthy, but they did give me a greater sense of power. I enjoyed that.
Decades later, after having been consecrated as a bishop, I had all these time-honored symbols of authority given to me: a pectoral cross (which was large and visible); a miter (pointed hat), a crozier and a huge ring. Clergy and laypeople consistently honored these symbols, and the role the bishop played. At least outwardly. Occasionally some people would stand up whenever I walked in a room. A small cohort of laypeople insisted on kissing my ring whenever they approached. Parishes would undertake elaborate preparations and offer gracious hospitality whenever I came to visit. It was hard not to drink in all the obeisance people were offering, which was directed not so much to me, but really to the office of bisho, and to the role the bishop played. But there were times when I couldn’t really make the distinction between role and person; there were moments when I did drink it all in, and came to expect the many gestures of respect – and submitted to the temptation that it was all about me. It fueled my sense of power.
I struggled with power. On one hand, I relished it. On another level, I was uncomfortable wielding power, especially in those moments when I had an inflated sense of my authority and felt I could get away with most anything. Most of us have an ambivalent relationship with power. Our egos often seek to claim and keep whatever power we can get. It is a form of self-protection. And then there are other moments when my – or our –desire for power feels out of whack, and we seek to keep our need and desire for power in some sort of balance. And there are norms and laws and cultural expectations that are designed to keep power in check.
Donald Trump doesn’t reflect any ambivalence about power. He consistently demonstrates an insatiable need for it, and an unquenchable desire for the obeisance that power demands. He blows through decorum and the Constitution in a relentless and ruthless campaign to wield even more power. I am halfway through reading Regime Change, the best-selling book by New York Times reporters Maggie Habberman and Jonathan Swan.They have conducted thousands of interviews with people close to the President, and are able to describe, in considerable detail, the many meetings when Trump exercises his power by demanding someone be fired, demeaning a growing cohort of perceived adversaries, and dispatching the many powers at his disposal on anyone who crosses him. It is an astounding and appalling account of a leader who wields power in the most venal and vicious way. What is perhaps even more disquieting are the many reports of those staff members and elected officials who kiss up to the president by proposing that airports and rail lines be named after him, his image be carved on Mount Rushmore, his picture be printed on official currency – and that legislation be enacted to arrest anyone who displays Trump Derangement Syndrome (which is anyone who dares to oppose him). He drinks it all in.
It all sounds crazy. But it is happening — with even greater intensity and intention each passing day. And the impact of it all drives me – and so many of us – crazy.
My first response to these illegal and immoral displays of power, and a way to restore a semblance of sanity, is to claim a level of intellectual superiority. I tell myself that I am smarter than the President. I know more history, can claim a greater awareness of the intricacies of foreign policy, and have a deeper understanding of law, the Constitution and basic morality. That’s just for starters. That provides me some sanity – not to mention a modicum of power.
There are at least three significant problems with this response – which I know is shared by millions of others. First, by claiming a superior intellectual power, we are playing into the President’s charge that I – that we – are elite snobs, increasingly distant from the yearnings and worries of those who are not as educated – or as Trump and his minions would say – indoctrinated. Secondly, we are claiming intellectual superiority in a very narrow academic category, which can blind us to Trump’s brilliance. Yes, his brilliance. Trump has a near genius ability to manipulate, to find a way out of disastrous situations (that he often creates himself), and to bend reality to align with his will, despite facts, history and laws that suggest otherwise. And finally, claiming that we are smarter than Trump generates a veneer of arrogance and smugness– and a misguided conviction that our intelligence can keep us above the fray.
We can’t continue on that course. We need to use our moral and intellectual power not to distance ourselves from the fray, but to engage in it. We need to move beyond drinking in the satisfaction of our intelligence and awareness.Thank God many journalists are reporting, and judges are challenging, the Trump Administration’s appetite for unbridled power. But it is not enough.
I am learning that I am using my relative intelligence, while a real and important gift, as an ego response to Trump’s infidelity to human decency. Which means that I am fighting his ego with mine. That won’t work. His ego is much more practiced and his desire for power and his ability to wield it is much more developed. I am not match for his brutal displays of power.
What I can do – and I offer this, is to be more attentive to the soul. The soul is where creativity is generated, and where love is born.The soul doesn’t provide protection from the ego, but offers an alternative to it. Some would say that Mr. Trump doesn’t have a soul. I wouldn’t say that. It seems he doesn’t have any access to his soul; his life is consumed with the dominance of the ego. By connecting with the soul – through prayer, silence, rest, retreat – some discipline that connects us to the core of who we are. We can recover sanity and purpose. Drink in the soul. Nurture relationships.Serve others. Provide space for reflection.Spend intentional time with the soul. It will help guide us to a more effective – and helpful, response to unmitigated power.
