As I pointed out recently, I have difficulty dealing charitably with people whose world-views clash with mine. It’s much easier to ignore them, pretend they aren’t there, and presume that they must be wrong. Unfortunately, whether or not that’s a reasonable way to deal with ideas I disagree with, it’s no way to deal with people whom Jesus commands me to love.

So what is a world-view, anyway? What I mean by the term is that collection of truths I hold dear: the fixed points and landmarks in my mental map of all that is. Some of these landmarks are trustworthy guides, fixed in stone by careful analysis, reasoning, and experience. Others I learned in childhood; some of these no doubt loom so large that I’m hardly even aware of them. They might or might not be trustworthy; but at least they have stood the test of time. Others might be mere prejudices which are better discarded.

In other words, it’s a mixed bag. I call them “truths”; and certainly, some of them are. I want them all to be truths in truth. If I were a perfect intellect, with perfect knowledge, then all of them would be trustworthy guides, appropriately fixed in stone. If I had taken the time and effort (so far as anyone can) to examine all of them, there’d be fewer mistakes and inconsistencies among them. (I take it on faith that there must be mistakes and inconsistencies in plenty–but, of course, I’m not aware of them.) I hope that there are tolerably few errant prejudices remaining.

When someone else’s world-view clashes with mine, that means that they have asserted some proposition—let’s call it “A”—which is in some way counter to some truth I hold dear. Immediately I feel uneasy—that’s my intuition telling me that something is wrong. I’m not sure just where intuition fits in with the intellect, the will, and the other faculties I’ve been writing about recently, but I’ve learned to trust my intuition. It is by no means infallible; many truths are counter-intuitive, and of course the world-view upon which it draws isn’t infallible either. But it’s very good at pointing out ideas that clash.

The problem is, it isn’t always clear just where the problem lies. I have to cast about, trying to figure out why proposition A disturbs me. This usually takes the form of listing as many reasons as I can think of why A must simply be wrong, because of course if it’s wrong I don’t need to think about it any more.

This is sometimes a reasonable thing to do. If the subject is one with which I’m reasonably familiar, and about which I’ve done quite a bit of thinking, I might compile in short order a cogent set of reasons for doubting proposition A; and in that case, spending more time on it probably isn’t worthwhile.

But…what about the person who asserted proposition A? The intellectual point might not be worth my time, but the person who asserted it certainly is. It’s unlikely that beating them over the head with all the reasons they are wrong is the right way to treat them. (The clue stick is useful once in a while, but only once in a while.) And if it’s a subject with which I am not familiar then not only am I far more likely to misunderstand what the person is saying, the fixed points in my world-view are more likely to be unexamined, rudimentary, and flawed, and thus not a sound basis for judgement.

Sometimes charity calls simply for suspending judgement; I certainly don’t have time to pursue every possible line of inquiry:

But other times charity calls for going the extra mile, for surveying the landscape and making sure that all of my landmarks are properly placed.