In this era of fierce ideological divides, it is worth remembering that we must let the other side of an issue question us. Karl Barth describes this well in the opening to his lecture “Roman Catholicism: A Question to the Protestant Church,” given in 1928. It is still applicable today:
It is a well known phenomenon of human life—a phenomenon which, I think, appears even more conspicuously among the educated than among the uneducated—that in a discussion with those who have a different point of view, different modes of thinking or different aims, we are much more concerned with saying something ourselves and with using the concessions of our opponents or their manifest errors in support of what we have said than we are with listening seriously to what they have to say. And this attitude persists even when the subject of a conference happens to be man’s duty to his neighbour or the like.
In other words, we are much more anxious to assume and maintain for ourselves the position of the examiner, questioning others–the position commonly described since the time of Socrates as that of the expert midwife of knowledge. We prefer, that is, to take a position recognized as superior rather than to allow ourselves to be questioned and cross-questioned by the other side and so to stand in the less honourable position of pupil.
What is the real purpose of listening to a lecture? Of entering a discussion? Of reading specific books? Of writing specific reviews? Why will a man debate with another man? In almost every case the chief effect is the reinforcement of his own consciousness of being a little Socrates. He has now become more fully conscious of his superiority; and it is a question whether the real, though hidden, purpose of our activity was not to achieve this result. This attitude seems related to the great law of the struggle for existence, to which obviously we as the higher or the highest form of life are subject, along with lower forms.
But a relative rightness in this attitude even at higher levels cannot be denied for that reason. Wherever two men meet each other, with no exceptions, each of them is both the questioner and the questioned, both the expert and the ignorant. No human ‘Thou’ can legitimately claim that we ought to let him with his questions devour us with our questions. Actually we cannot let ourselves be questioned and cross-questioned without also putting questions ourselves.
Furthermore, who knows in a concrete case whether I am not fully justified in taking the position of expert and midwife in relation to the other man? Just who does know? Who has the authority to decide in such a situation? If that position is really ours, then it becomes so in the impact of the event itself, so that we ourselves can only be astonished at it, and can claim for ourselves no more than this relative right to it. And precisely when for the moment the possibility of our superiority does appear justified, even with this relative right on our side, we must in every case move cautiously. We must put our questions without misinterpreting the incidental and momentary nature of our superiority (which does not lie within our own power), and therefore not without conceding a similar possibility to the other man; not without recognizing that we also are questioned by him; not without ‘fear and trembling’; finally, not without granting precedence to the questions of the other.
For to us has been said, ‘But it shall not be so among you’ (Matt. 20.26). ‘So‘, as it obviously is in the struggle for existence, where one’s own question inevitably takes precedence over the question of the other. Needless to say, this happens continually; but we can neither desire nor deem it good. For to us has been said, ‘Be ye not called Rabbi . . . nor father . . . nor master’ (Matt. 23.8-10). It might well happen that the moment of superiority would clothe us in that dignity to our astonishment and embarrassment.
But if we assume such dignity of ourselves, the consequence is certain to be an experience of the opposite. Therefore, ‘When thou art bidden of any man to a wedding, sit not down in the highest room; lest a more honourable man than thou be bidden of him; and he that bade thee and him come and say to thee, Give this man place; and thou begin with shame to take the lowest room. But when thou art bidden, go and sit down in the lowest room; that when he that bade thee cometh, he may say unto thee, Friend, go up higher: then shalt thou have worship in the presence of them that sit at meat with thee’ (Luke 14.8-10). He who is assured of the absolute justification of his position in relation to another, at once allows himself to be questioned and cross-questioned without being less certain of his own stand.
While Barth spoke of the Protestant-Catholic divide, the concept expressed is not limited to that issue alone. What can we learn from those we argue against today? What questions do Democratic ideals pose to Republicans, or vice versa? What question does Islam pose to Christianity? What question do fundamentals pose to activists? In approaching all such issues, we should heed Barth’s reminder to come humbly and with a willingness to learn from the other side.
