The Deep Secret That Reliably Creates Needed Change

In the mid-’90s, I was a student living in the Palestinian community of Bethlehem in the West Bank. We used to semi-jokingly refer to the part of town I lived in as, “Hamas Central.” At that point in history, Hamas was regarded as a terrorist organization. The environment could get a little intense.

My roommates and I were studying Arabic and would often practice with our neighbors. In the building we lived in, a Bedouin man had a small store. His name was Muhammed.

Muhammed was old. He was a Hajji, the honorific given to someone who had completed his pilgrimage to Mecca. Accordingly, he was respected.

For some reason, he befriended my roommates and me. We were young, westerners, and Christians. The last two were particularly inconvenient in the context of “Hamas Central.”

His shop was next to the stairs that led to our apartment — and he just interjected his hospitality into our lives. Sometimes, we literally couldn’t get past him. He would pull us into his store and force us to recite the names of his goods in Arabic. He’d serve us tea or coffee and talk.

At times, his friends or some of his family would chastise him for being friendly towards us. We didn’t ask for it. Their concerns were dismissed (with a lot of shouting), and he continued being our host.

The fight

One day, a brawl broke out. From my third-floor apartment, I had a birds-eye view. The noise drew me to my window.

A mob had gathered, creating a large knot of at least twenty to thirty men plus onlookers. Sides were forming. Someone threw a TV. Others were jumping onto a car. People were arming themselves. I could see a man pulling out a crowbar. Some were holding others back. Everyone was shouting.

Then Muhammed slowly got up, and walked out of his store, directly into the crowd. Almost miraculously, they opened to make way for him. He positioned himself directly in the middle and raised his hands. Everyone quieted down.

I don’t know what he said, but he was calm. He spoke to both sides. Everyone else calmed down as well. They began to turn around and go away.

Somehow his calm became their calm.

The opposite spirit

This was an example of a concept that I later learned was called, “acting in the opposite spirit.”

Muhammed demonstrated gentleness and peace. Everyone else was clamoring for violence or vengeance. He acted in the opposite spirit and it changed an entire crowd.

We were outsiders. In many ways, we fit the profile of an ideal target in “Hamas Central.” But he extended hospitality and warmth to us. He treated us in the opposite spirit. As we learned more about the neighborhood we were in, we became persuaded that his acceptance protected us there.

What does it look like to act in the opposite spirit?

In every relational or social dynamic, a common feeling tends to emerge. You might call it the “atmosphere” or “vibe.” For this article, I’m using the word “spirit.”

Currently, whether someone is politically on the left or on the right, it seems that there is a common “spirit” of anger, an inability to listen, a lack of curiosity, a rush to judge, and mischaracterize.

In relationships or the workplace, there can be a “spirit” that emerges of resentment, entitlement, stinginess, or lack of consideration.

The “opposite spirit” may look like staying gentle, curious, and listening when others are angry, judging, and loud.

It may look like being generous when others are being stingy, or greedy, or are driven by a sense of scarcity.

It may look like choosing to find reasons for hope as opposed to reasons for cynicism.

It can mean speaking and behaving with integrity when others are manipulating or distorting the truth.

My experiment with “acting in the opposite spirit”

After I returned from my time in the Middle East, I returned home to continue my studies. I took a job in a coffee shop as a barista.

Now, I had started a coffee shop when I was 19, so I was familiar with the job. But one of my co-workers seemed to be particularly patronizing towards me.

In fact, for the first month or two, I assumed she was a manager because of how demanding and critical she was. No one ever questioned her. I began to resent her.

I remembered this lesson of “acting in the opposite spirit.” Yet, I wasn’t sure how to apply it in this situation. After all, this was about fairness, justice, and being treated with dignity. I wasn’t getting any of that from her. It seems like I needed to get that sorted out first.

I decided to put the concept to the test. I decided that where she was bossy, I was going to try to serve her. Where she was patronizing, I was going to try to be respectful towards her.

It wasn’t easy.

But a couple of things happened:

1. I stopped feeling resentful. Which meant I was at much greater peace. I didn’t go home feeling all wound up.
2. Over the period of a month or so, she changed how she related to me. She stopped telling me what to do. She started treating me with the normal respect of a co-worker.

Once, I noticed she was having a bad day. I asked how she was doing, and the dam burst. She opened up and shared the challenges she was facing. I listened.

Something had changed in our relationship. All I had done was act in the opposite spirit. This was not easy.

I’ve since learned that “acting in the opposite spirit” is a powerful force for change.

But it is not easy. It is counterintuitive. It feels like I’m giving up my rights to justice.

Twenty-five years or so later, it is still not my first, reactive response when I feel I’ve been wronged, or am confronted with anger, fear, anxiety, a sense of scarcity, or anything else.

But if or when I remember, and I dial myself back, it works. It changes things. It’s pretty reliable.

We need leaders to lead in “the opposite spirit.”

I think you see my point.

There will always be reasonable objections to acting in the opposite spirit. It isn’t fair. We shouldn’t have to. Those responsible should be the ones to change.

Those objections are correct.

But, ultimately, we can only control ourselves. And there is great power in how we go about managing ourselves.

If we do it through practicing the principle of “acting in the opposite spirit,” we can catalyze incredible change. It’s often more effective than merely demanding change.

To do that, we need leaders who are willing to be that change.

Are you willing?

Take good care,

Christian

Originally published at https://www.christianmuntean.com on August 25, 2020.