The Middle Way--The Road Less Traveled

Two roads diverged in a woods, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.”

                        --Robert Frost

In the last few weeks, the Episcopal Diocese of Nevada Facebook page, which I read and to which I contribute, was criticized by people with various religious opinions.  Some accused it of a link to Islam or other fanatics, and some accused it of being too liberal and abandoning the gospel.  People from either side of the political spectrum were offended.  The funny thing is that the Episcopal Church is far from radical, on either side.  As a matter of fact, we Episcopalians pride ourselves on finding “the middle way”, a way of respectful discourse, prayerful consideration, and thoughtful compromise, a way that leaves room for differences of opinion within a space of love.  For some reason, this middle way is upsetting and offensive to people, which seriously concerns me about the future of society.  My comment to the negative comments was, “The Middle Way appears to be the road less traveled these days.”

Currently, it is easy to insulate one’s self from all who disagree with one’s political opinions.  I can limit my Facebook and Twitter feed to everyone who says what I’m already thinking.   I can watch the news channels for my political party, that only mention the opposition when they are making fun or stirring up dissension against them.  Politicians play to the radical bases in both parties; compromise is met with derision and accusation.  The loudest voices are the most strident and strongest in their opinions, not the ones who allow for respectful disagreement.  I can easily vilify anyone with a different perspective; I do not need to know them, or interact with them at all.

Why is the way of compromise so threatening to people?  Honestly, it seems more offensive to many than the radical opposing side.  Perhaps because zealots of each camp can understand each other; they can predict the behavior and make a plan of action to defeat the enemy.  But when someone tries to bring the two sides together, to create middle ground, to walk a path of loving compromise--well, that doesn’t make any sense and it is threatening.  People are afraid to engage in thoughtful discussion because they might find out they are wrong.  If the person opposing you is a crazy liberal, or a crazy tea-party member, or a crazy NRA gun-nut, or a crazy tree-hugging pacifist, then they couldn’t possibly have anything of value to contribute to the conversation.  They are dead wrong and I am dead right.  Why is the way of compromise so seldom used and so seldom respected?

It is scary to come out from behind the walls of assured righteousness, to lay down the armor of certainty.  Respectful conversation with people holding differing opinions leaves a person vulnerable and requires courage.  Compromise means opening up to the opinion of the other, even if we disagree.  Compromise means realizing that the action about which I feel most passionately might not be the best action, at this time, for this situation.  Compromise means allowing my views to be challenged by someone I respect, not just some faceless fanatic from the opposing side of the fence.  Compromise is challenging to our pride and demanding of our loving-kindness.  Compromise is difficult and rarely tried these days.  The road of compromise is rarely traveled these days.

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;     

  

5 Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,    

   

10 And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.Oh,

I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.     

  

15 I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.        20

                        “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost

Recently, I discussed this poem with a fellow English teacher.  Honestly, I had not given it much thought, beyond the surface-level interpretation of “take the path in life that works for you—do not follow the crowd”.  My friend showed me a much more nuanced interpretation.  The road less traveled had a better claim because it needed wear.  The author didn’t follow his heart or scamper off to find his bliss.  He took the path where he could make his mark, the path where he could make a difference, the path that needed him.  The road less travelled is not the happy-go-lucky path to his personal happiness.  It is the path where I can do the most good in the world.  The road less traveled, in this case the middle way of compromise, is not easy.  It is often left alone, grassy and wanting wear from foot traffic, because it requires a balanced step and a consistent commitment.

The middle way is threatening to those on the far sides of the issue, but it is essential to the conversation.  The middle way, the road less travelled, is begging for our traffic and our wear.  The middle way needs the Episcopal Church—and that might make all the difference.