It's everyone else's fault

Man's inability to understand his own role in his troubles has been part of our character makeup ever since Adam blamed Eve.  It must be someone else or something else outside of me which caused this.  And while there are always exogenous factors which affect our circumstances, they only tell part of our tragic story.  This can be especially true in relationships, where misheard words and misinterpreted motives are the stuff of situation comedies and Lifetime movies.  We do not always recognize the role we play in the relational hurricanes in which we find ourselves.

"All I said was" and "I didn't do anything to deserve that" come to our lips, first, last, and always, it seems.

This came home to me quite recently in a conversation with a friend I love.  In discussing his younger brother's involvement with a group of the elder's friends, the elder told me, "It's just that I can't stand him.  He rubs me the wrong way.  He is so annoying.  If he were only like So-and-so (another of the younger set, whose own older brother is a friend of my young friends), it would be fine.  So-and-so is cool.  My brother is so disagreeable."

And that got me thinking.  Not just about sibling loathing (somewhat common in teenage years).  But also about the role that peers, associates, and culture plays on our own character and tendency toward loathesomeness.

Here's the thing that stuck me.  So-and-so and his older brother get along great.  The older brother genuinely loves and likes the younger.  He protects him.  He edifies him.  He encourages him.  Moreover, the family dynamic seems to be one of mutual admiration, respect, and love.  It's no wonder that So-and-so is "cool" (as my young friend said).  He is surrounded by people who lovingly guide him, encourage him, respect him, and like him.  Affection and mutual respect rule their house.  What else would result from that brew (absent mental disorder) than a well-adjusted kid who's cool?

So my young friend, blithely ignorant of his active role in his younger brother's loathesomeness, turns up the heat on the sauce by being consistently disagreeable toward him.  It must be the younger brother's fault.  After all, I have tried to be nice.  I did nothing wrong.  It's not me.  It's him.

And our ever-nagging, ever whispering pride, sitting alertly on our shoulder, tells us to be teflon, to not let correction abide, to resist any thought that we ourselves may bear some (most?) of the responsibility for our own relational hurricanes.  May our God have mercy on us!  And I think of DC Talk's words as I try to bring my own sickness under control,