Mushrooms and Sunflowers

Hypocrisy is an ugly thing, and I'm recognizing it in myself more and more every day. I don't know if there's any truth to the theory that some or all people are born evil, but I do know that my deepest natural instinct is to be hateful and suspicious toward everyone around me, and somewhere along the line those instincts have been groomed into a worldview of self-righteous skepticism—because it's smart not to trust other people, because it's rational to be pessimistic, because it's more practical not to help others. I turn a condescending sneer on those who talk about peace and love and "finding a solution." Am I my brother's keeper?

Well... yes. That's the answer by God's standards, and in spite of all my "practical" wheedling, it doesn't really get any more complicated than that. Of course, there's a whole slough of hairs to be split over exactly what that entails, but the fact remains that we are supposed to be looking out for one another. And I've been living by human standards for so long that it's easy to forget.

That said, blaming society is a lame cop-out. In fact, society—and I include in that both religion and secular morality—is the only thing that has instilled any sense of responsibility toward others into this otherwise selfish animal. And occasionally, for a brief moment, I have an impulse to do the right thing. But even then, it's insincere. Sure, I can hold the door for a stranger or hand a few bucks to a homeless person, but do I really care if that person lives or dies? Or am I just "doing my piece," meeting my random-act-of-kindness quota for the day so I can go on with my life and not feel guilty? (Let me tell you, it's not working.) Maybe I'm hoping that someday someone will do something nice for me, but the aforementioned pessimism keeps that from becoming too strong of a motivation.

Whatever my reasons, that is not love. That blind, insincere, saccharine farce of charity is not God's love, and it's an insult to anyone with half a brain who can see through the pretense. And honestly, I've begun to doubt whether it's really possible to teach yourself to honestly care about a stranger. Maybe the reason I look down on those people who talk about peace and love is that I assume they're just like me, that they can't possibly mean it. And so I call them hypocrites. But who's the real hypocrite? I call myself a Christian. I tell everyone else that we're placed on this Earth to do God's will, even convince myself that I believe it, yet somewhere between theology and reality there's that disconnect: I don't really believe humanity as an organization is capable of love. For years I've tried to be both a Christian and a cynic, but you can't grow mushrooms next to sunflowers, and you can't truly believe that God has a plan for your life and then keep on taking care of yourself before others because it's the smart thing to do. (Mushrooms and Fire-flowers, however, make a nice combination. Do I get bonus geek points for making a Mario reference?)

Lest anyone think I've turned into a hippie, I'll add this disclaimer: I have no idea what the "answer" to this issue is. Sure, all we need is love... but can someone please explain exactly what that is?