Being Chuck

I have a slight [read: enormously annoying (at times) to those around me] tendency to be argumentative.

Not in an angry or malicious manner, mind you, just in a playful, inquisitive sort of way.

I truly enjoy the way people’s brains work.

How do we arrive at conclusions (erroneous or true)? What causes behavioral change (or lack thereof)? These questions have always intrigued me. Why do we act the way we do?

I suppose that some of the time arguing (or debating or discussing, depending on your perspective) is a way for me to pick a person’s brain… to understand, to get a different perspective.

Other times I’m genuinely trying to decide how I feel about something. I’ll argue with people whose opinions I respect to pick apart my own feelings and biases. It’s a method of processing my thoughts and understanding myself (or increasing self-awareness). Those people (J & Brian among others) know me and know why I do it, and they graciously oblige [read: play along].

Still other times (and these probably happen way too often) I argue for the sake of argument. It’s fun (for me, at least). I enjoy the banter. It’s challenging and stimulating.

And so (obviously) I spend a lot of time debating with people about things from the quality of talent on a football team or the tastiness of fast food to deep theological or ethical questions.

But there is one phrase (most often employed in justification of behavior) that practically (the use of the word practically here will make sense very shortly) compels me to argue. I have a very difficult time letting it slide (much to the annoyance of my lovely wife who has committed to put up with my ridiculousness without committing me).

And that phrase is (drum roll please):

“Have to…”

I have argued/held/debated for much of my life that there is no such thing. There is no “have to” in reality. There is always a choice available. There are always options, but we allow consequences to force our hand. But really the consequences don’t force anything. They’re just consequences. They’re simply results of the decisions we make. They have no power. They are not living breathing beings.

Examples:

“I had to do my homework…”

No you didn’t. You just didn’t prefer the consequence of not doing your homework.

“I had to swerve my car…”

No you didn’t. You just weren’t very keen on the idea of wrecking into that other car.

“I had to do what he said, he had a gun…”

No you didn’t. But you did prefer to stay living.

There is always a choice available. There is always an option.

Or so I thought…

But… (prepare for a shocker here)

I was wrong. (Not totally wrong, but wrong nonetheless.)

There is one instance in which “have to” applies.

You (I, we) have to die. (Hence the title of this post.) There is no choice involved here. We will all die. We cannot pick “not death…”

But don’t pat me on the back for my discovery. I had help. My father-in-law and I were riding in a truck with Dave Weinman after moving the heaviest table known to man (this actually occurred weeks ago, I’m just now writing about it, I’m kind of slow…), when we somehow struck up a conversation about kids (specifically those of the middle school, high school, and early college-age variety, or more simply: teenagers).

And having had the privilege to spend eleven years (paid & volunteer) of my life working with teens (or youth/students if you are so inclined), I discovered (discovered?… as if they were some rare tribe in a foreign land…) “have to” is a common phrase in their (teens) vernacular.

So naturally the conversation turned to the topic of choice and “have to,” and I spouted my well-rehearsed diatribe about the irrelevance of “have to,” and how it shouldn’t be used, and really doesn’t exist.

At which point I would usually be met with a long drawn out discussion about the nature of choice and consequences. Whereupon I would wax poetic about the reality of consequence preference (I’m making up terms here…) and how we always have an option, but most of us simply prefer to be a “victim.”

Victim: Allow me to elaborate here… We make choices that we justify with “have to” because it’s easier to be a victim of “have to” than it is to own up to the responsibility of making better choices. But I digress…

So the conversation progressed as normal, and as I reached the pinnacle, the height and crowning glory of my well-crafted, well-thought-out (or so I thought) argument, my father-in-law chimes in with the following:

“You have to die.”

…

Well, crap.

I generally think quickly on my feet [read: speak before I think], and I was scrambling to formulate a response. But every time I opened my mouth with a rebuttal, my brain would counter (which was essential to saving what little of my argument still stood). I had nothing left. (I lost?)

Bob [father-in-law's name] had totally destroyed my diatribe (not really, but he definitely knocked me down a few notches without intending to… at least I don’t think he intended to).

I do have to die. I don’t have another option.

So let me fix my argument. There’s always a choice in life. You can choose in any matter except whether or not you will die (physically).

But as I said above, I wasn’t totally wrong. (If you haven’t noticed, I really don’t like to be wrong. In fact, I will try to dance with words around wrong in such a way that I can still be right. It’s a man thing, and it’s a personality thing, and I’m not too bad at it, but it’s not good either.)

The more I thought about our exchange, what really became interesting to me is why I don’t have a choice there. Why can’t I choose “not death?”

God saw fit to grant me the freedom to choose in every aspect of life. I choose whether or not to help the bum who wants money from me. I choose how to answer my wife when she asks me to do something I don’t want to do. I choose how to answer coworkers who have questions I know I’ve answered 26 times or more. I choose how to respond when my kids act their age. I choose whether or not to show love to any number of people I come into contact with every day. I choose whether or not to glorify Him everyday, a hundred times or more. Why wouldn’t he allow us to choose this as well?

Why can’t I choose whether or not I “have to” die?

How dare He?

But the really intriguing part is this: He granted us that choice as well.

VICTORY! (almost…)

But I don’t get to choose whether or not I die. I can’t even pick when or how…

God put man in the garden. God gave man everything he could ever want and more (would you like choice with that?). Man chose independence.

Perhaps I myself was not the one who chose death. I wasn’t the one who picked the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good & Evil. Adam and Eve did that. So I can no longer choose not to die. But if they hadn’t, if Eve hadn’t listened to the serpent, if Adam hadn’t listened to Eve, how long would it have been before someone else chose death?

I can guarantee you that if it came down to me, I would probably blow it… sorry.

So after weeks of distress (at the partial loss of one of my favorite arguments) [please read that with the proper amount of sarcasm, not too much, but the proper amount], I am vindicated. Choice was available, and now we are living (or dying) with the consequences.

VICTORY!

Not really. I mean, I still feel vindicated… but I still have to die.

Stupid fruit.