DO WE BELIEVE ONLY WHAT WE WANT TO BELIEVE?
(And don't bother us with the facts!)

    Dean Henry Rosovsky has a provocative essay in the current Harvard Magazine on "Deaning," which is drawn from his long years as a dean at Harvard. His eight "Helpful Hints" for college administrators seem appropriate for one in most any walk of life, certainly such hints as "Never be surprised by anything." Preachers and editors might be wiser if they accepted the dean's suggestion of "Learn the value of being vague." And most parents would profit from his admonition to learn the meaning of responsive, which he dubs one of the most misused words of the American English language. He insists that one is just as "responsive" when he says No as when he says Yes.

    But the hint from the dean that most impresses me is "Never underestimate the difficulty of changing false beliefs by facts." He presses his point with People believe what they wish, and empirical evidence does not lead to quick altering of cherished positions. He points to the commonly held view that Harvard senior professors give most all their time to research and graduate courses and therefore have no time for undergraduates. The fact is, the dean notes, that 90% of the Harvard senior faculty teach at least one undergraduate course. But this fact in no wise weakens the firmly held view to the contrary, the dean laments. He also observes that classes at Harvard are smaller today than they were twenty years ago, but this fact does not diminish the conviction of many alumni that Harvard was more intimate when they were in college, ten years ago or fifty years ago, it matters not.

    It does not matter all that much, of course, what the alumni or the general public believes about routine matters at Harvard, but it is enormously important for us to realize, if indeed it be true, that we human beings are generally resistant to a change of mind even in the face of hard facts. False beliefs can do us in, whether they concern ourselves, our world, our friends or our enemies, and if we are impervious to the truth we are in real trouble. The dean accepts this judgment with resigned fatalism: "I cite it as one of the unavoidable difficulties of our existence."

    The dean, of course, would be the first to concede that there are many exemplary exceptions to what may be generally true. The hard, sometimes painful, facts have changed the lives of many worthies who in turn changed their world. There is Albert Schweitzer who, while preparing a lecture in philosophy paused to take in hand a missionary journal from Paris and read a report on "The Needs of the Congo Mission." That night he wrote in his diary, "My search is over." Even though he was a doctor of music and theology as well as medicine, he resolved to spend his life among the deprived of Africa. Cruel facts about needs in Africa changed his life.

    Something like that can happen only to a person with an open mind. But it is more than that, for it involves a passion for truth and a diligent search for reality. Such ones are the truly free spirits in our world, free both of the fear of the censure of men and of their self-deprivations. Jesus of Nazareth spoke of such freedom when he said, "You shall know the truth and the truth shall make you free." Those who love freedom like that would never say, "Don't bother me with the facts."

    We all love George Washington Carver for a spirit like that. Like Schweitzer, he too was searching, but in a different way. When southern blacks had lots of peanuts but no market for them, Carver made his way into the woods one day, planted his knees on the ground and prayed to the God of heaven for enlightenment. Holding a lowly peanut up to the God who created it, he prayed, "O God, help me to find out what is in this peanut!" He returned to his crude laboratory at Tuskegee Institute in Alabama and went to work on the peanut. In a few years scores of products were made from peanuts. Carver stands in history as a testimonial that there are at least some people who not only accept facts when they are presented to them but who will pursue facts as one might search for a hidden treasure.

    One of my favorite Bible characters is that little fellow named Zachaeus who climbed into a sycamore tree in order to see Jesus. He was no kid out to see what was going on. He was a man of both eminence and wealth, being a chief tax collector. Luke 19:3 provides this elegant description: "He sought to see who Jesus was, but could not because of the crowd, for he was of short stature. So he ran ahead and climbed into a sycamore tree to see Him, for He was going to pass that way."

    He was a man who seemed willing to be disturbed by the truth. He both ran and climbed in his search, which must have been some sight for a populace that held tax collectors in derision. Luke continues the amazing story with: "When Jesus came to the place, He looked up and saw him, and said to him, 'Zachaeus, make haste and come down, for today I must stay at your house.' So he made haste and came down, and received Him joyfully." The scene was not lost on the crowd, which criticized Jesus for going to the home of a "sinner." Jesus' answer to that was that he had not come to make the "righteous" whole but "sinners."

    Zachaeus had been an exacting if not an unjust business man, but the presence of Jesus changed that, leading him to some self-imposed penance. There is no indication that Jesus "preached" to him or got on his case. Zachaeus, now in the presence of something real, resolved to give half of his wealth to the poor and make all wrongs right with fourfold restitution. Jesus was able to impact his life like that only because Zachaeus was a man who was willing to face the facts, however painful.

    A German philosopher, a black scientist, a Jewish tax collector. An unlikely threesome perhaps, but they serve to show that while the news is bad in regard to human instincts, it is not as bad as Dean Rosovsky's experience would suggest. And there is more to it than that Schweitzer, Carver, and Zachaeus never attended Harvard, albeit Schweitzer did visit the place on at least one occasion, even while I was a student there. He came to play the organ!

    I want to believe that there is a hunger and thirst for something better in all of us, however latent it may be. Our great need, whether personal national or international, is openness. Only openness of spirit will roll back the Iron Curtain and remove the Berlin Wall. Only openness of spirit will heal broken homes and broken lives. When we are willing to read and listen as Schweitzer did, pray for light as Carver did, and run and climb in search of the authentic as Zachaeus did, then our lives will change as theirs changed. And we in turn will help change our world And that is all any of us can do, change our world by changing ourselves.

    It all begins by getting our "want to" fixed. --the Editor