WHAT I GOT FROM THE 1st PRESIDENTIAL DEBATE

Thinking of the raucous presidential debate last week, I had an absurd thought: If you watched it, you know that it was not a clash of ideas but a clash of vitriol. No punches were thrown, but plenty of mud was. Each was declaring the other the worse scoundrel ever. Each was vehemently insisting the other was wrong. Not just wrong, but dog-lyingly wrong. My thought is this: What if in the middle of that brawl, one of the candidates had stopped and contritely said, “Wait a minute. I AM wrong. I misspoke. I shouldn’t have said that. My attitude has been substandard and unacceptable.” And then, in a step further, to follow “I’m wrong,” with “And, you’re right!” If that had happened, there might have actually been two seconds of silence in the debate. There would have been plenty of shock in that auditorium and in living rooms across the nation. There might have even been some folks choke on their popcorn or fall over in a faint. But there would have been something else. If the one hearing the first’s confession thought he was sincere and heartfelt in his repentance, at least for the moment, there would have been a way across the great divide that separated the two—and I’m not talking about the COVID mandated social distancing, nor the political difference. I’m talking about the divide of personal animus. Whether on the debate stage, in personal conflict, or family feud, the divide between two can only be removed when someone admits he is wrong. But, to admit one is wrong requires the hardest thing possible--surrender. Surrender of one’s pride. Surrender of one’s need to be right. Surrender of one’s obstinacy and obduracy. It’s not just presidential political opponents that are divided. It is a husband and wife. It is two estranged, formerly best friends. It is two siblings. It is two sisters in the church. It is a parent and an adult child. In every case, the divide is there because neither will surrender. The worse divide of all is that between Creator-Redeemer God and the individual human. In the divide between humans, either, taking the initiative, can surrender and concede he is wrong. In the conflict between human and God, although the human can say, “I’ve been wrong,” God cannot. He has never been anything but right. Between humans, when the first has sincerely conceded and confessed, “I’m wrong,” the other often will break and reciprocate responding with, “I’m wrong too.” Between human and God, God cannot respond, “Me too.” He isn’t wrong. There is only one in that conflict that needs to confess. The human. In the conflict between humans, the one confessed to may choose not to accept the other’s humble penitence and, refusing to allow the divide to be removed, continue to be hostile and belligerent towards the repentant. When any human is genuinely repentant to God, God has never refused his repentance. Every time the repentance is accepted and the divide is removed. Wonderful things can happen in relationships when someone is willing simply to say, “I’m wrong.” But that confession takes surrender of self, which is, perhaps, possibly the hardest thing for any to do. Yet, surrender, is the divide remover, the divide crosser, the divide closer. Surrender. If there is a second debate, the podiums may, because of COVID, be further apart and the two standing behind them politically, relationally, and personally, even further apart. Don’t wait with bated breath for one to say mid-debate, “Wait, I’ve been wrong. I’ve wronged you.” But, do something. Remember that old hymn, “I Surrender All”? Sing that through several times in a prayerful manner. See if it doesn’t narrow some divides in your life. Especially the one that matters most. Not the one between presidential candidates. The one between you and God. That’s what I got out of the 1st presidential debate—the need and power of surrender.