I have not yet completely worked through the philosophical underpinnings of Zanders' approach, but I must say that from a pragmatic point of view, it is tremendously effective and freeing. One of practices this book discusses is that of "giving an A." This means that one first gives up living with a mindset of facing the behaviors of others (and oneself) with an eye to judging efforts and output, measuring against my infinite desire how much I am pleased by the results before me. Instead, I decide to bring to the relationship before me an attitude, a decision, a desire, to see "an A," the best, and to share the excitement of living that brings forth the best from both people in the relationship. Both persons are focused not on making the grade (and therefore on themselves) but on the greater possibilities open to them, of becoming something greater, of inspiring others.
This sort of thing works well in the context of musical and business leadership, which is the intended audience of the book. But there is also a striking passage in the book where Rosamund tells the story of coming to a new understanding of the relationship she had with her father after he had passed away. She tells how her parents divorced shortly after her birth, and how she had but intermittent contact with him through her childhood and into her early adulthood. After his death (at his own hand), she realized she had given him a grade of about a B- or a C. Why? Clearly, he didn't love her. And how could he, when he hardly knew her? Then suddenly it struck her that she had settled on her harsh judgment as truth: "He didn't love me." She saw how this evaluation had colored all of her intimate relationships. She realized that this just might not be fair at all, based on what she could objectively recount of her father. She decided to start with "giving him an A," with the thought "He did love me," and what could be concluded from that: "He knew me, to a degree at least." Starting from that brand new perspective, she thought about what could have brought about the type of relationship he had with her, and indeed with everyone in his life. She saw that he did not feel he had anything of value to offer her or others. This paradigm shift enabled her to see their relationship in a completely different light. She recalled that the day after this thought exercise she found a letter from him that not only expressed his love, but expressed his hope that she would pursue a career in helping others because of her giftedness in this area. It was as if she had never seen that letter before; at least she never had been able to take in what he tried to offer her. She could now see that her father knew her in just the way her heart desired, but it had been her judgment that stood in the way of receiving it.
This account really resonates with me and my own experiences with my father, and other relationships. It is impossible that any human being fill the abyss of our needs. It seems we can either go around being disappointed in others and in what life offers, or we can reckon our needs met -- in Christ -- and really see Christ making things new in our lives. The Zanders don't speak of Christ, though I can't help but see that he stands in the direction they point, even though they might believe that the beautiful reality they decide to create really is only a product of their creativity, nothing more.
Here is a passage Benjamin quotes from a letter written to him in response to one of his presentations.
We keep looking so hard in life for the "specific message," and yet we are blinded to the fact that the message is all around us, and within us all the time. We just have to stop demanding that it be on OUR terms or conditions, and instead open ourselves to the possibility that what we seek may be in front of us all the time.It seems to me that this possibility in our lives indeed bears the name Emmanuel.
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