The title of this essay I took from the Gospel of John. It states Jesus wish for universal reconciliation.
I watched a talk show rerun recently. Joe Biden was being interviewed. He discussed his book, “Promise Me, Dad,” dealing with the death of his son, Beau. One 0f the women present and conducting the interview was Meghan McCain. Meghan McCain, John Mc- Cain’s daughter, is a former host on Fox news, a cradle Republican and one of the hosts of the talk show, The View. Biden’s book (I have not read it) is a grief work of hope that describes the profound sense of loss Biden felt for his son and the obligation he felt to honor his memory.
The interview was poignant. It told an important story of its own.
In the initial minutes of the interview, Biden and Ms. McCain were seated with a person between them. As the conversation developed, Biden spoke of how his son (who died of the same brain cancer that John McCain suffers now) had always found comfort in Meghan’s father’s bravery. As he spoke, Meghan grew teary. Biden then rose and seated himself next to her. He took her hand and shared with her some fond memories he and his son had of her father. In the political arena, John McCain and Joe Biden had done battle with each other. Each had great respect for the other. They were political adversaries and very loyal friends. They enjoyed a relationship with dignity.
I do not recall being moved by anything recently as much as I did watching this interview. Certainly, talking of our losses touches us all deeply; mourning is the one feeling that stabs us to the core and a feeling every one of us understands. Perhaps even more than laughter, grief is the universal emotion we all share. However, there was something else about the interview that haunted me. I couldn’t identify it right away.
Joe Biden, by almost all accounts, is a representative human being. Professionally, he is regarded as an honest man and a skillful politician. He has a sense of humor, engages people in respectful ways and has passion for his ideas. He has integrity, is clear but gentle in his opinions and has a deft manner of handling complicated feelings tactfully – whether they’re political or emotional. He possesses that redeeming quality of being able to poke fun at himself. He talks freely about his big mouth in the way president Obama used to speak of his own big ears. It’s the kind of playful self-denigration people who are secure in their own skin are able to indulge.
Christmas, now upon us, is a paradoxical time. It’s a festive season. It’s also a time of mourning. Despite all the lights, bright colors, parties, gestures of good will and aspirations to joy, an undertone of melancholy prevails. I think one reason for this is that Christmas as a holiday is an anniversary event. It occurs yearly at a designated time. Anniversaries induce memories. Christmastide is strongly associated with attitudes of kindness and generosity and of being close to the people we love. An anniversary event like Christmas also has a darker side; it stands as a yearly remembrance of the people who are not here now, but with whom we shared this event in the past. We are made aware of what we’ve lost; the festivity’s bright lights cast dark shadows. There’s always sadness about that. Joe Biden knows about loss. Meghan McCain knows that for her, the final curtain of her grief will fall. They mourn together.
One of Joe Biden’s character traits is his personal warmth. When he got up and went to sit next to Meghan McCain, took her hand and spoke softly to her as she wept, I almost wept, too. It was an image of male tenderness in a powerful man that is so different from the images reported in the daily news we hear or read about. We are besieged with relentless tales of abuse that men with wealth, social capital and political influence inflict on others. It seems to be a trickle-down effect, originating from the highest echelons, seeping through the political fabric and down into the various major and minor industry captains and entertainment celebrities. The frequency of the sordid reports would seem almost to testify to behavior now become routine, the kind we’d once have called unacceptable.
Who is left for any of us to look up to, to inspire us?
In that brief exchange between Biden and McCain I saw a possibility, a hope for the way we can be with one another. Tenderly and kindly. I am confident that for anyone who saw Biden take his seat next to Meghan McCain in that clip, there was no way this could be construed as posturing. It was a genuine gesture, based on a history of trusting relationships, demonstrating the kind of authenticity that has been in painfully short supply in the political figures we are confronted with daily in news media. There is so little trust evident, so little tenderness. While women today may be witnessing to the ideal of dignity and respect we need to emulate, it’s the good men that are hard to find.
My attempt here is not to lionize Joe Biden or Meghan McCain, but only to cite his decency and McCain’s grace and suggest how people who do have power and social capital and are fundamentally honest and compassionate, can create good will and facilitate healing, personal and collective. They become agents of reconciliation.
The Christian message its’s core is a drama of reconciliation. The tale recounts the struggle to achieve reconciliation with God and with each other. We become reconciled to God by reconciling to each other. It isn’t accomplished by mouthing pious clichés nor by overlooking differences or even by accommodating political, religious, racial and ethnic distinctions.
When we are able to see in others, the wounds and brokenness we have known in our own lives, we meet each other in deeper and more loving ways.
I believe I saw in that clip some a tender and respectful moment between a man and a woman, a conservative republican and a liberal democrat, a devout catholic and a practicing Baptist.
I think our alienation from each other is weighing heavily on us. We hunger for closeness, to be able to share our true humanity with one another.
That one day we may all be one remains my vision of hope.
Columnist George Merrill is an Episcopal Church priest and pastoral psychotherapist. A writer and photographer, he’s authored two books on spirituality: Reflections: Psychological and Spiritual Images of the Heart and The Bay of the Mother of God: A Yankee Discovers the Chesapeake Bay. He is a native New Yorker, previously directing counseling services in Hartford, Connecticut, and in Baltimore. George’s essays, some award winning, have appeared in regional magazines and are broadcast twice monthly on Delmarva Public Radio.
Sue Bredekamp says
This is not a “letter to the editor”. I just wanted to write to express my deep appreciation to George Merrill for writing this and all his other columns for the Spy. I too saw the Biden/McCain conversation and felt deeply moved, wishing that such interactions were not as remarkable as this one seemed. Mr. Merrill captured the depth of genuine feeling we all witnessed from both Joe & Meghan. It gave me hope for peace, joy, and healing in our country, Sue Bredekamp
Joan Wetmore says
I loved this article, but truly adored the second to last sentence. I so agree!!!
Thank you, George Merrill,
JMW
Kristen Greenaway says
Thank you, George. Always, hope.