Ideals (images of life that inspire us with their coherency and plausibility) have amazing power over us. While we may (sometimes, but not always, I would say) have a degree of choice when it comes to the question of which ideals inspire and motivate us, once we come under their influence, they determine much regarding our feelings, thoughts, and (most critically) our perceptions.

Whether we describe the ideals that guide us as being primarily of the rational and empirical variety or not (and an ideal which appears reasonable to one person may not appear so to another), it would be a quantum leap forward to affirm that none of us is absolved from responsibility for the ideals we allow to have sway over us, and for the results that ensue from us being under the influence of any particular ideal or ideals. In other words, it is helpful to see ideals, ideologies, religions, philosophies of life, world views, etc. as not entirely unlike drugs. We cannot get off the hook by saying, "My religion made me do it," etc., because you chose to imbibe of that particular intoxicating substance in the first place, and to nurse upon it thereafter.

To the extent we are unconscious of how we come under such influence, we have some major work to do, in the direction of growing towards recognizing when we are being presented with the invitation to slip into an ideology, to let our souls shape themselves to a fit a particular suit--which, whether we like it or not, or believe it or not, is going to begin exercising some degree of control over our perceptions and our identity. What we need to emphasize is a degree of accountability for the formation of relationship with ideals.

The world we attain
will not differ substantially
from the means we use
to get there.

Crafty political bills have, inserted within them, all kinds of surplus material, around other things that are agreed upon by all as being important. The opposing party is put in a bind. If they vote for the measure because of the stuff agreed upon, they end up also subscribing to other things they are not fond of. If they vote against the measure because of the extraneous things, they are accused of also rejecting the important central issue. Something similar is happening in the debate about whether ISIS is Islamic or not. I would like to break out the issues included in the "bill" I am being asked to accept, so I can make it clear what I am voting for and what I am not voting for.

1) ISIS is Islamic. 

My vote: Yes. To ignore this is to miss critical information about how this group thinks and operates.

2) ISIS is Islam. I feel this is what some are asking me to accept. To accede to this would be to accede to the notion that ISIS is the definitive statement of what Islam is, or what it must inevitably become. 

My vote: I reject this. It is entirely possible to condemn ISIS, yet to affirm the positive capacity and potential evident within Islam. It is possible to oppose ISIS in the name of Islam – a different interpretation of Islam than the one put forth by ISIS, and one which I would argue is a better interpretation. Millions of Muslims agree with me.

3) Only literalistic interpretations of a religious tradition are the true and real representations of the religion. Understandings that rely on a degree of symbolic reading of sacred texts are just wannabes. 

My vote: No. Religious understanding has always walked hand-in-hand with poetic understanding. In fact, religions that recognize the object of their discussion as being transcendent take for granted and state axiomatically that language about divine things is necessarily symbolic and figurative. Religion has been in the business of allegory from the very beginning.

4) All faith is bad. There is no such thing as good faith.

My vote: No. There is a huge difference between faith that expresses itself in the form of someone going to help ebola sufferers, and faith that expresses itself in the form of trying to provoke an apocalypse. To condemn, in a broad brush way, all faith – or to say that all notions of "God" are equally empty or dangerous – is simply to turn our back on the variety of meanings these things have for people, and the variety of ways in which they motivate people to live in this world.

http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2015/02/20/will-it-take-the-end-of-the-world-for-obama-to-recognize-isis.html?via=desktop&source=twitter

Grandmothers occasionally demonstrate unique power to call people back to their humanity. Whether or not you agree with all that is said by this particular woman, you can sense the power her words have for the young man she is speaking with.
This reminds me of the story of the group of mothers and grandmothers in Liberia, who protested the civil war that was taking place there--at one point taking their clothes off and positioning themselves so the militants and generals would have to step over their naked bodies. This created so much shame for these "leaders" that they reconsidered and turned from their violence. An extremely powerful story. The movie about this is well worth seeing (and can be read about here: http://praythedevilbacktohell.com/synopsis.php).

When you are engaged in argument with a perspective other than your own, there are sometimes moments in which you feel your thinking comes together just perfectly, and your perspective seems entirely self-evident and obvious. When this happens, it seems the only reason your opponent does not agree with you is due to obstinacy or stupidity. 

Pause, if you dare, at such moments, and contemplate that your opponent may have an equally sure sense of his or her own perspective--because he/she, like you, is seeing it from inside, with sympathy. In this frame of mind, the universe freely offers evidence to support one's own vantage point. Everything forms a kind of gestalt that confirms this particular conception of how reality holds together. 

Also, in argument, there are occasionally moments when it feels like you are being grossly misunderstood and unfairly attacked. Your position is being presented in an unfair light (maybe even perverted), and the arguments your opponent is refuting seem to be only bad parodies, straw men, of what you are actually trying to say. "How dare my opponent choose such an inadequate representation of what I'm trying to say ... and then to think that, in refuting that, he/she is successfully refuting me!" you protest. 

Again, at one of those moments, pause (only if you dare) and consider that your opponent him/herself may feel almost identically concerning the way you are handling his or her position. Whether or not you believe you are you are engaging primarily the least respectable representations of your opponent's position, that may be exactly what they perceive you to be doing--just as it seems (to you) that they are doing to you. 

It is sometimes clear only to someone outside the argument entirely, looking in, how much your assurance of being right is a mirror image of your opponent's assurance of being right, and how much your indignation at how unfairly your position is being portrayed and handled is a mirror image, also. 

"I hear what you're saying," I can hear you replying to me, "but in this case, in this argument, I really am right! My opponent really is wrong!" 

Exactly. 

This is not an attempt to say that all positions are equal, in terms of truth content, but a call to recognize that, much more than we realize, our perception of being right is conditioned by subjective factors that the other side is equally privileged to and plagued by. At the very least, it might encourage a welcomed increase of humility. 

Grant to me that the value of life and humanity is established by something deeper than what facts and rationality can explain, and I will grant to you that facts and rationality are indispensable in pursuing an existence that honors the value of life and humanity.

Fixing: what we do to things that need repair.

Healing: a mysterious process, involving living things; we can establish and honor conditions which ensure healing is nourished and not obstructed, but the healing itself is a mystery that proceeds according to principles we barely understand.

Two radically different processes for two different kinds of problems. In our culture, we focus almost exclusively on the first. "How do I fix it?" we say to the doctor or therapist. It is a mistake to approach healing-oriented concerns as though they require fixing. We undoubtedly like the sense of control we feel when we are in "fix it" mode--while healing necessarily entails patience, and trust in processes beyond our own ability.