“For the simplicity on this side of complexity, I wouldn’t give you a fig. But for the simplicity on the other side of complexity, for that I would give you anything I have.”
― Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr.
Recently, I purchased a new digital camera which came with an online manual hundreds of pages long. Not only are the options and combinations of the camera’s functions complicated. The use of the camera to its full potential requires such complex decisions, I felt intimidated to use it. It’s not that I was looking for a one-button solution, but I was overwhelmed enough that I didn’t even take it out of the box for weeks and I wanted someone to talk me through the instructions step by step.
We live in complex and volatile times. Life can be complicated, very complicated, especially for people who are trying to lead change. Naturally, we would prefer simpler, easier circumstances that would allow us to live and lead from our comfort zones. Our anxieties often lead us to look for clarity, simplicity, and quick solutions to the problems and tensions that we face. Some of us even turn to artificial intelligence to guide us through some of life’s big questions or what in leadership we sometimes call “wicked problems.” And who could blame us? Sometimes, we just look to someone else to do the hard work for us and just tell us what to do.
When the Pharisees come to Jesus and ask him about the greatest commandment of the Law, they aren’t asking him because they’re curious, or because they want him to tell them what to do. Like the Sadducees, the Pharisees also had a stake in undermining Jesus’ popularity. They were often more preoccupied with maintaining their own status and ritual purity than they were with the service of mercy and justice on behalf of the poor, or strangers in need. Like the Sadducees, they were also fed up with Jesus’ challenges to their authority, and wanted to trap him in the oversimplification of the Law.
But Jesus instead presents for them a way of holding the very essence of the Law by addressing both the wholehearted love for God in God’s primacy, and the essence of all the prophets: the exercise of love for neighbor, the widow, the orphan, and stranger, just as one exercises love for oneself. For his people, who counted 613 commandments in their Law, offering them just these two must have at first felt so liberating, so simple. And for us who call ourselves disciples of Christ, these two great commandments form the simple foundation for our ways of relating to God, ourselves and one another.
But are these two commandments so simple?
What does it mean to love God with our whole heart, soul, and mind? What does it mean to love our neighbor as ourselves? Even in Jesus’ own time, people asked, “Who is my neighbor?” There is a way that simple answers invite more questions. Even the matter of loving ourselves isn’t quite so easy. But Jesus doesn’t seek to make our lives easier, does he?
When Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr, a brilliant and well known judge, said, “for the simplicity on this side of complexity, I wouldn’t give a fig, but for the simplicity on the other side of complexity, I would give everything I have,” he was acknowledging that easy answers and simplistic thinking were cheap. Overly simple thinking can be naive, superficial, and ungrounded in reality. But the simplicity that holds complexity and many details and yet, presents it in a pithy, yet sufficient way, that is priceless. Such simplicity is elegant, and hard won, often as a result of sitting in confusion, tension, and ambiguity, until the way appears.
This is what Jesus offers in these two “great commandments” that synthesize and summarize the whole of the Law and the Prophets in a way that is meaningful and potent. This simplicity didn’t come easy for Jesus either, but was the fruit of lived experience, observation, reflection, and prayer. Jesus studied the Law, considered its applications, and the ways that it was misapplied in ways that contradicted his Father’s mercy, compassion, and justice. He was able to filter out the unnecessary details and to focus on the core principles at the heart of the Covenant. His teaching presents a wisdom and level of insight that he needed to arrive at for himself, but not by himself. It emerged in his mind and heart as he pondered reality in dialogue with his Father.
What implications are there here for us as we consider what it is to be a person of faith, conscience, and mission in the world today? What does it mean for us as leaders faced with complex, hard problems? We face difficult and sometimes painful moral dilemmas. We face questions that in theory might have simple solutions, but in reality, are complicated. We often know the good and right thing to do, but we are entrapped by contingencies and compromises. Decisions we face might involve weighing competing priorities or good options, or in some cases, deciding between two bad options. Often, no one can make these decisions for us, because we have roles of responsibility and must be accountable. Discernment is not easy and we have to admit, outsourcing our inner processes to machines can be very tempting.
But what Jesus models for us is a way of being in relationship with reality, with all of its complexity, of praying for the light and guidance of the Holy Spirit, so that the Father’s desire and will are revealed. It may not be easy. True love is not easy. The way of the Cross was not easy. But there is often on the other side of complexity an elegant and simple path forward, one that is facilitated by God’s grace.
What complexity and tensions are we navigating in our lives and leadership? When we feel tempted to short cuts or simplistic thinking, might we not join Jesus and the many saints and holy people who have gone before us in discerning their way to the simplicity on other side of complexity?
With you on the road,
