In 1893, Emile Durkheim, who is created with founding
modern sociology, published a brief work detailing differences he observed in
the labor force. One group of workers,
he noted, was required to perform repetitive tasks while the other needed to
employ a wide variety of skills, disciplines, and actions. Durkheim named the first type of labor Mechanical Solidarity and detailed how
its redundant nature discouraged innovation and adaptation to changes. He named the other Organic Solidarity and stated its multi-faceted approach fostered
and valued new ideas and methods.
Through his observations Durkheim determined these two
basic groups in the labor force were unable to exist in harmony with one
another. Coining the phrase “anomie” (or
normlessness), he stated the
mechanically inclined could not tolerate the open-endedness of the organic
approach. Those immersed in organic
labor felt stifled by the closed nature of the mechanical approach to
work.
Durkheim continued to develop his thinking about
anomie and took it in new directions in an 1897 book studying suicide. He found that just as resistance to change and
change occurring too rapidly had an impact on the workforce, so too societal
anomie influences our lives more than we realize. There is a human, psychological cost when
norms are lacking as well as when they are too rigid.
Durkheim learned a diminishing of clear values and
codified behavior causes people to experience a sense of alienation and
purposelessness. Life feels frustrating,
confusing, and even disturbing because one is not sure how to live and
act. It is as if there is no clear-cut
path forward, no guidebook to tell you how to do it, and no shared vision of
what life is to look like. Think of it
as the exact opposite of Ozzie and
Harriet and the 1950s.
A common example of anomie occurs every time a child
acts up in a checkout line. If ten
people are watching there are at least fifteen difference ideas as to how the
parent should handle the situation… and no matter what the parent does, it will
be deemed improper by those watching.
This, in a microcosm, is what it looks like and feels like to live in
anomie. Things are changing so much so
fast our norms cannot keep up.
While some manifest anxiety in response to this,
others opt for rigidity. They hold hard
and fast to the old ways and remember nostalgically (if inaccurately) a time when
everything felt more settled and sure.
So, for example, some pine for the return a Father Knows Best era when role expectations were clearly defined
and followed.
In a time of normlessness everyone feels adrift and
unsure because society lacks a consensus about how to act and behave. And while periods of rigid norms offer
clarity, those who do not or cannot abide by them are pushed to the sidelines
or expelled from the community. The
question I want to pose is this: Is there a third way, a way striking a balance
between normlessness and rigidity?
Let’s use all of this as a lens through which to look
at this morning’s reading from the Gospel of Luke. Travelling by boat, Jesus and his followers
come ashore in the land of Gerasenes. It
does not appear to be their destination, but a ferocious overnight storm has
blown them to this pagan land on the western side of the Sea of Galilee.
They disembark, perhaps to catch their breath after a
harrowing experience, and immediately are confronted by a demon-possessed, unclothed
man. Local townsfolk are so disturbed by
him they have taken to chaining him in a nearby cemetery. The crazed and tormented individual begs
Jesus for relief.
The text does not tell us Jesus’ initial reaction to
the situation. Perhaps he was
startled. He might have been
afraid. Maybe he was annoyed. We are not told. But here is one thing to note: Jesus is in a pagan land, in a cemetery, in
close proximity to a herd of pigs, speaking with a possessed person. All four are forbidden in Hebrew law and any
one of them will make Jesus “ritually unclean” and prohibit him from public
worship until going through an elaborate cleansing rite.
This episode bears similarities to Jesus’ parable of
the Good Samaritan. In it, a priest and
a religious scribe both avoid an injured person, in part to avoid becoming
defiled. It is only the foreigner from
Samaria who demonstrates compassion for the man in need by treating one
different from him in so many ways as a neighbor. Well, to use an expression common to us,
Jesus does not just talk the talk, he walks the walk. He lays aside all the rules and regulations
and frees the man of all that torments him.
It is easy to sympathize with the locals. You cannot have a crazy, possessed person
running amuck on the streets. Certain
behaviors and standards need to be upheld.
But their response to banish him and confine him in such an inhumane
manner is the picture of moral rigidity.
It is a retreat to the way things “should be” that does not grapple at all
with the way things are. Everyone feels
better once the threat of his disturbances is removed… well, everyone except
the possessed man.
A truly normless response to the situation would be to
allow the man to behave as he will.
Jesus could brake off his shackles and send him back into the town
unchanged as a statement no one has the right to treat a human being in such a
manner. After all, “to each his own” and
“live, at let live.”
Jesus rejects both moral rigidity and anomie; striking
a balance between these two extremes by focusing on the humanity and dignity of
the possessed man. His compassion,
leading to the man’s healing and freedom, becomes itself a new kind of
normative behavior. Jesus elevates compassion
above ritual purity and demonstrates it supersedes property rights and economic
prosperity (just ask the pig herders!).
So much is changing in our society and standards of
behavior simply have not kept up. We
live in a time of anomie with all its effects on well-being outlined by Durkheim
over a century ago. Many feel like a
rudderless ship at sea being tossed about and blown to and fro. Jesus offers to us a new ethic of compassion
based on human dignity and flourishing.
His words and his actions invite us in every situation to ask “What does
this human being need?” To ask, “If I
was in his or her position, what would I want people to do for me?”
Have you heard of the advocacy group called No More Deaths? They have mounted a humanitarian effort to
leave food, water, blankets and other provisions in desert regions along our
southern border in an effort to provide relief aid for migrants seeking to
enter our country illegally. Last March
four of its volunteers were found guilty of federal misdemeanors and sentenced
to probation. Earlier this month a jury
was unable to render a verdict in the trial of Scott Warren, an Arizona
schoolteacher who provided aid and shelter to pair of migrants who were in
desperate condition. Warren’s defense
attorney argued he was exercising his religious beliefs by doing unto others as
he would have them do unto him.
The immigration crisis facing our country is not a
challenge easily solved or understood. I
know good Christian folks who state emphatically people trying to enter our
country illegally should not receive humanitarian aid and if they die in the
desert it is their own fault. I know
other people of faith who advocate for completely open borders. I believe the group No More Deaths is navigating a path between rigid morality and
normlessness by addressing human need and real suffering. It feels to me like a Jesus action in the
midst of this ongoing debate.
Where in your life do you sense what Durkheim called
anomie and what might a compassionate response focused on human need look
like? How might this give you a sense of
meaning, direction, and purpose in a world changing so rapidly you yearn for
guidance?
