SLOGAN
MENTALITY
Robert
Meyers
If being
fatuous seems as deeply irreligious to you as it does to me, perhaps
the following question can be forgiven for taking up space usually
reserved for gentle exhortation.
Have you
ever found yourself disproportionately annoyed by those simplistic
little maxims printed on church signs and bulletin boards? Like:
“Lean on Jesus. . . Before He Leans on You” — a
kind of coy, cute threat which somehow offends me to the central
marrow of my smallest toe.
Or
like: “God is ‘DOG’ Spelled Backwards . . . And He
Really Is Man’s Best Friend,” a princely piece of
theology which I would give a great deal to be able to forget, but
which sticks in my memory like an unwelcome burr.
And how
about those bromides which are so faithfully posted once a week on
the signboards of certain businesses? We have a realtor in our end of
town, admirable in just about every way I can think of, who uses his
signboard to post little homilies which I try (unsuccessfully) to
resist reading as I drive to work each morning.
Things
like: “Talk With Your Friends, But Not About Them,” and
“Work Will Win, But Wishing Won’t.” Both true
enough, perhaps only too true, but at the same time not the whole
truth. Too easy to be the whole truth. Too glib, too unctuous.
I always
find myself wanting to counter them. It may be true, I mutter to
myself as I drive on, that “work will win, but wishing won’t,”
but it is also true that if one gets settled down to working too
soon, without doing some wishing first, he may spend the rest of his
life in a rut he absolutely hates.
If you
have read this far, I can safely insert a splendid comment on slogans
by George Eliot, that brilliant 19th century English woman who writes
so much better and more demandingly than I can or would dare:
“All
people of broad, strong sense have instinctive repugnance to the men
of maxims; because such people early discover that the mysterious
complexity of our life is not to be embraced by maxims, and that to
lace ourselves up in formulas of that sort is to repress all the
divine promptings and inspirations that spring from growing insight
and sympathy.
“The
man of maxims is the popular representative of the minds that are
guided in their moral judgments solely by general rules, thinking
that these will lead them to justice by ready-made patent method,
without the trouble of exerting patience, discrimination,
impartiality; without any care to assure themselves whether they have
the insight that comes from a hardly-earned estimate of temptation or
from a life vivid and intense enough to have created a wide
fellow-feeling with all that is human.”
When
something annoys us like this maxim business, but doesn’t seem
to bother the more normal citizenry, we always wonder if perhaps we
may not have a secret screw loose someplace. So it pleases me that
James Thurber also scowled at these faintly pompous little adages,
knowing perfectly well that most of them can be reversed without
losing an ounce of truth. So he did it by way of illustration: “He
Who Hesitates Is Sometimes Saved.”
Thank
you, Thurber, for a stout left jab at slogan mentality, than which
few things are less useful for understanding the mysteries of a
religion with a cross at the heart of it.