Ambiguity

I find an ambiguity in the words that are put into my mouth in songs, liturgies, patriotic expressions, enlistment oaths and life affirmations.  You know what I am talking about, probably.

In a worship service  you are asked as a congregation to say, “For the sake of God, we will search for the outcasts, including ourselves.”  We probably won’t, actually, but we say the words in order to fit in.

In a song we sing, “”that saved a wretch like me” (Amazing Grace, verse 1).  But we feel pretty smug.  We are pretty wonderful, actually.  Life is good.  We sing because it’s familiar and we want to fit in.

We pledge allegiance to the flag and seldom wonder what there is about a piece of cloth that claims my allegiance,  In fact, the next time we handle a flag we are careless, a corner drags on the ground, and it doesn’t tell us to do anything, really.

We enslist in an organization — lodge, club, military branch of service, whatever, and we are required to repeat an oath of one sort or another.  We do so to “fit in”, but. . . do we really mean it?  I did that when I joined a fraternity.  A year and a half later I realized that I was never, never going to even want to admit I was a member of that organization.  I tried to leave, but was told, “You name is written in ink.  You cannot be a non-member.”  But I don’t even remember the promises I made and don’t care.

We want to fit in, and that’s good, but most of the things we “fit into” require us to either lie or accept the ambiguity of group statements.

What do you think?  Leave a comment and let us know.