Valuable

There was a time that one was expected to take some kind of personal responsibility for their actions. Now? I don’t know. I’m not saying that people are utterly irresponsible, or that personal responsibility is no longer a thing, but it seems expectations have changed, and in a subtle way.

Over the past few years, there’s been a lot of “resiliency” talk out of Air Force leaders. But I think it hasn’t gone the way those leaders have expected. They’ve set up program upon program to give Airmen some kind of release from the stress of their daily jobs, but it seems the effect has, in a roundabout way, fed an already growing mindset that turns people away from personal responsibility. People are being told that the Air Force will take care of them, so it can’t be a far stretch to think that they’ll take care of everyone else too. In other words, “It’s not my job.” And so, the skills Airmen might gain from overcoming difficulties with others and without the intervention of some kind of nanny program degrade, and they lose the ability network and the mental toughness to independently handle life that isn’t always fair or easy.

I want to be clear, I’m not deriding programs per se — they all can serve their purposes (some better than others). But they shouldn’t be the first or second resort that they seem to have become in this automated, media-heavy era.

From my perspective we’ve lost something that is important to our personal wellbeing. There was a time when people relied more on a spiritual faith — and in that faith, a community — with which they could stand if challenged. Something outside of them. Something bigger than them. Something that, in the end, would not let them down in its purest sense. But that is quickly disappearing, and there are some who think that is a good thing. I can’t help but think, though, that we’re seeing some of the ill effects of jettisoning a God in whom we can believe and on whom we may rely. With nothing behind us, we turn to people and organizations and governments who really, if you think about it, are more likely to give us prepackaged slogans and pseudo-psychology; insisting that, according to all of the latest studies, this will work. It all looks great on paper – literally.  I’ve seen more than enough slick letters, graphics, and training materials – and especially “Computer-Based Training” (CBT) — for a lifetime and a half. But at heart we know just how pitiful it is to have some impersonal screen and a few PowerPoint slides to assure us that we have every reason to live.

It’s all packaged nicely enough, and the experts tell us that it should be working…I guess. But we still have people killing themselves at alarming rates. Enough to garner renewed attention for the national suicide prevention lifeline: 988 – a noble effort, but maybe even more a sign of our isolation as a society.  All that these people have is themselves and a phone number.  When that and the faceless CBT fails – along with the people around them – they have nowhere left to go. No sense that they’re part of a community that actually cares. Maybe even more so for those in the military. The camaraderie of the brotherhood (I use that term to describe all who serve) – forged in battles that are no longer there – is missing.

Thirty-five years ago, while we slogged and worried our way through a Cold War against enemies that could turn us all into ash if they wanted, I got to experience that camaraderie.  Our motto was more of a cliché: “Work hard, play hard,” but the play was up to us. It was our own close-knit group of people who would work the last 8-hour mid-shift of a set and then go straight out the gate to wake up the owner of our favorite bar to get the break going – together.

Perhaps that wasn’t the best way to handle things – some of us tended to get a bit wild. But the tradeoff now is that, in the sanctioned “fun” and “camaraderie” that the military provides, we’ve lost something. And part of that is probably a sense of personal responsibility, or even a sense of responsibility for those brothers and sisters with whom we work. Wouldn’t it be natural, after all of that training we’ve had, that “Don’t worry, someone else will take care of it” might cross our minds? That a person’s best friends should step in is a given – that’s no different today than it was decades ago – but how big is that circle anymore? When I was younger, I had my close friends, and they had other friends, and even if those twice removed weren’t going to confront me, enough of them knew to say “Hey, watch out for your boy there.” There was nothing better to do than notice each other, even if we were being idiots.

But now we’ve got our pocket friends…and they can’t see us acting the fool. They can’t notice our pain, especially when we’re more prone to share only the brightest of moments. “I don’t want people to know that I’m hurting, so here’s a pic of me on the beach…”

I can’t say “I don’t have the answers,” because I do…I touched on it above, but I know people don’t like it. If what I believe about God is true – and I say it is, or I certainly wouldn’t believe it – then the answer is right there. I know I have value not because of the value the world gives me – the value which gauges me by a baseless standard – but by the value I hold as an image-bearer of a living God. We should, but for the poison of our own self-centeredness, value all people as image-bearers of that same God. This solves the problems of hatred and prejudice for me. Or of suicide and hopelessness and loneliness and bitterness. Or work and money and busyness…and the very self-centeredness that tempts me to treat anyone as less valuable.

I know we live in a world that is difficult at times. For some far more than for others. But I’m not so foolish, even in the hardest of times, as to turn away from the one who gives me all of my value and hope. While many are the times it’s a hard slog — contrary to what some shallow preachers of the world will try to tell you, it was never guaranteed to be easy — in the end, it’s not something I wouldn’t wish wholeheartedly for others.

I’m always open for discussion on something as important than this. Drop me a comment, and email, or a message if you want to talk.