Why I Like Dr. Jordan Peterson

 "Why do people like Jordan Peterson?"

I did not have a ready answer in response to that question, but it led me to ponder more deeply why I like him so I could at least respond in that way.  Of course it is nearly impossible to answer why we like things, for our preferences seem to arise without any conscious effort, grounded in who we are and what we have experienced.  Still, however, it is possible to speak somewhat to our conscious appreciation.

So let me try to say why I like Dr. Jordan Peterson.  Perhaps I can best put it this way: he has given me hope.

I have always found it so easy to grow discouraged when I fail to see the results I want.  I have looked about me and seen others apparently more confident and skilled than I am and felt insignificant and inferior.  I have felt like people only wanted to spend time with me if no one more interesting was available.  I have felt like a burden.  I could go on about all the ways I have felt like I did not belong and did not matter and so on.  Add to that the fruitlessness of my efforts to answer the needs of the world or even just the needs of those about me and you have an excellent recipe for hopelessness.  In short, sometimes it has felt as if life is not worth the suffering.

Enter Dr. Jordan Peterson.  There is one video in particular I listened to many times when I was in a dark place and it never failed to remind me of important truths.  If I bluntly summarized those words I would put it this way: of course you're a wreck and the world is a catastrophe and you're going to be terrible at anything you attempt to do and you're going to suffer, but that is the very groundwork of humility that is the rock foundation for becoming a hero and making yourself and the world a better place.

Here is that video, titled, fittingly, "Stumble Toward the Light":

So I guess in the end what I am saying is that what I like about Peterson is that he is a prophet: speaking the word of God to me.  I like him for a similar reason to why I like Catholicism.  For both remind me that the fact that I am a sinner is not a matter for condemnation, but rather the ashes from which the phoenix rises, to speak metaphorically.

"O happy fault!"  "O necessary sin of Adam!"

It is so easy for a perfectionist like myself to condemn myself for failures or to look for things to blame for my brokenness or to otherwise try to escape the human condition.  It is so easy to feel guilty if I do not act perfectly.  Yet what I need to do is to quit fleeing from myself and to accept that I am my own cross to carry and that through being crucified to myself in love, Christ will bring me to resurrection.  I am called not to look at myself and my sins so much as to look at the Light, to stumble toward that Light, letting myself be transformed in Love.

Dr. Peterson has spoken those words to my heart.  For that I am grateful.

There are others, too, of course who have done so and have helped the seeds of hope to burst up and bloom within me so that now I also can speak words of hope to others.  Because I have received these words that have helped me to accept myself as I am, I can help others learn to accept themselves as they are and to let themselves receive love that they may also give it.

The Reluctant Catholic

In conversation the other day, it came to my attention that Graham Greene has been called the Reluctant Catholic.  That title he bears for the fact that he believed that Catholicism was true and yet he wished it were not, or behaved as if he wished it were not.  Henry Scobie, the main character in his book The Heart of the Matter (the only book of Graham Greene's I have yet read) much resembles that perspective and for that reason I found him a fascinating and relatable character.

For are we not all Reluctant Catholics?

(Nota bene: Although that question refers specifically to those who know that the Catholic faith is true, this appellation may be applied similarly to the broader term Christian, or even extended further I daresay.  You might, if you wish, for example, think of it in universal terms in which you see the word “Catholic” as standing for universal truth and thus understand my meaning according to whatever that term means to you.  Also that will save me the trouble of trying to resolve upon a more universal phrase that would be bound to be decidedly more cumbersome.  So I continue.)

Whenever we know that one thing is right and choose to act according to our own desires instead, whenever we prefer our own pleasure to the good of others, whenever we refuse justice because it means sacrificing our own comfort, we are Reluctant Catholics. Our fallen human nature seems to crave all but the truth. So even when we know the truth, we act as if we wished it were not true.

Few stand out bravely from the vast crowd of Reluctant Catholics.  Although many speak beautifully of various aspects of the truth and preach its good works, when faced with some challenging situation they quickly revert to acting as if they wished charity and truth did not exist.

I wish that I could say to you: Do not be a Reluctant Catholic.  Yet I cannot.  I might just as well tell the world not to revolve around the sun.  It is a part of our fallen human nature, which we cannot wish away.

Instead we must learn to accept it—to embrace our shadow side—in order to approach the heights of heaven.  For when we can identify that rebellious streak within us with a cheery greeting of “Oh, you again!” we are in much better straits than when we try to pretend it is not there.  Its recognized presence ought to spur us on to bring our lives into accordance which what our mind knows is true.

After all there is a deep-seated truth hidden in that phrase, Reluctant Catholic.  It implies a belief so powerful that it is impossible to deny.  Scobie expresses that position so paradoxically—and even controversially—as he struggles against what he knows is true.  He tries to convince himself that love requires him to act contrary to his beliefs, but it only makes him miserable because deep within him is a belief in the truth so overwhelming that he cannot ignore or deny it.

So I say to you: Be a Reluctant Catholic. Come to know the truth so deeply that you believe even if you wish not to believe.  Only do not be lukewarm.  For if you delve into oceanic depths of truth, seeking the face of God, then surely your love will grow and you will choose the truth in the end, even though first you must wrestle much with yourself and even wrestle with God?