For a long time, I balked at personality tests and quizzes. Even in college, when we had to take the MBTI assessment during orientation (I’m an INTJ, by the way), I thought there was no way a simple test could tell me what I needed to know about my personality. I
was far too complex, right? However, as the years progressed, I was introduced to more personality studies. I studied and thought, “Hey, maybe this isn’t total nonsense.”
Enter: The Four Tendencies by Gretchen Rubin. From friends on social media, I had heard of Rubin’s book, but was generally unaware of her work as a whole. When given the opportunity to provide and honest review for a free copy of the book through Blogging for Books, I was so impressed with Rubin’s content and writing style.
Without the tense language of a psychology textbook, Tendencies examines four ways humans often express them selves as: Upholders, Obligers, Rebels, and Questioners. Rubin takes each tendency, and presents how each “style” operates and interacts with
others in real life. For example, I took the quiz at Rubin’s website and to no surprise, I am a textbook case Obliger. I can meet outer expectations, but I fail to meet inner expectations. For example, I can finish a report for work ahead of a deadline, but to go to the gym for myself? No way. Promises to myself can be broken.
On the other end, you may be a Questioner. You can meet your own inner expectations, but an outward expectations? You’ve got a few questions first, and you’re not volunteering just because. Maybe you’re a rebel who resists ALL expectations because you can’t stand being told what to do. Or, perhaps you’re an upholder: You meet expectations, both inner and outer, and “discipline is your freedom” (1).
What makes Tendencies so successful and engaging is that it teachers you not to attribute every single personality quirk to your tendency, but to think about your behavior and how it shapes you. Rubin offers advice for Obligers who want to keep promises to themselves and to the Questioner who wants to avoid information acquisition burnout.
Overall, for the armchair personality enthusiast to seasoned professionals, I would highly recommend The Four Tendencies. You will learn something about the ones you work with and love. Most importantly, you’ll recognize a familiar trait or discover something brand new about yourself.
At the heart of this biography, Satoko Kitahara is born and raised by her well-to-do Japanese family. She enjoys an education, and cultivates a love of poetry and fine art. However, the Second World War decimates the Japanese landscape and morale. Satoko, who once believed that Japan was the crown of the world, now sees her fellow countrymen defeated and in despair. After the war, day-by-day she drops her sister off at a local foreign, convent school. There, Satoko meets the Mercedarian sisters and develops an interest in Christianity. Sataoko, convinced of the truth of Christ (and to her parent’s dismay), converts to Catholicism.
Because of her new-found faith, Satoko becomes interested in the people living in the local slums (called Ants Town because the people who lived there “worked like ants”).
She visits Ants Town to volunteer a few hours per week, but soon, she realizes this is not enough. Satoko wants to mirror Christ who took on our humanity and also became poor. Because of her strong conviction, she eventually becomes a “ragpicker,” someone who sifts through garbage for scraps to sell. Leaving behind a life of wealth, comfort, and security, Satoko plunges into Tokyo’s most destitute neighborhood, only to die penniless and of tuberculosis at the young age of 28. Today, the young woman known as the “Dorothy Day of Tokyo” is on her way to sainthood, currently bearing the title Venerable Satoko Kitahara.
After reading Smile, I was left with many convictions churning in my heart. I thought for many days about God’s mercy and the mercy I offer to others. Often, as Christians, we are quick to say that “Yes, I show mercy to those who need it the most.” After all, it’s so easy to say we are merciful. We throw some coins in the can of a homeless person, we serve an hour a month at a soup kitchen, or we go to Mass regularly. We’ve gone on mission trips to other continents, painted walls, held children for a few hours, and then headed across the ocean to our own comforts.
I say this not to disparage volunteering in soup kitchens or participating in foreign missions, but rather to cast a light on how we think about mercy. In my personal experience, I’ve found that it’s much easier to show mercy to those with whom I don’t have a close relationship. For example, when I was in college, I went on a mission trip to Texas to conduct vacation Bible schools in low-income housing communities. It was easy for me to show mercy and “love on” those kids during that week because I didn’t have the baggage associated with them and their lives. In a similar vein, it’s easy to love kids in a slum living 5,000 miles away because, whether we want to admit it or not, we will eventually go back home to our normalcy.
But, it’s hard to love those who are closest to us. Simply put: We know too much about them. When you’re spouse is insufferable, it’s hard to love and show mercy to him or her. Perhaps there’s a co-worker who grinds your last gear, and you’d rather be sick than share an office space with him. Or maybe it’s your parents, who you think don’t listen to you enough or are maybe too overbearing. It looks like a brother or sister who takes advantage of you, or the family next door that has three kids who are just too loud. In these cases, mercy is very, very difficult.
When reading about Satoko’s life in Japan, I thought about how she served as a conduit of Jesus’ mercy to Tokyo’s most destitute. It would have been easy, effortless even, for her to ignore the plight of Ants Town. After all, she was educated and lived in a comfortable home. If she wanted to do good, Satoko could have easily went to a “proper” mission and sacrificed an hour or two a week.
But, she didn’t.
Rather, Satoko was wholly invested and merciful to those in her own backyard. While others in her elite neighborhood looked down on both her work and the citizens of Ants Town, Satoko gave her physical and spiritual life up for the most poor of Tokyo. But, though she was materially poor at the end of her life, Satoko experienced the richness of the many conversions to Catholic Christianity as a result of her witness. Ultimately, she was known as a “Japanese for the Japanese.”
I ask you: Today, to whom will you show mercy? Think about where you’re from and where you live. Will you be a Californian for Californians? Maybe you’ll be a brother to your sister, or a wife to your husband. A Canadian to Canadians. One does not need to venture very far to show mercy, or even to make an impact. Like Satoko, your ministry of mercy may be next door or down the street. Our Lord does not require a journey of thousands of miles to show His mercy to others. Today, I pray that we may take the love that Christ has given us, and pass it along to those who are closest to our hearts.
Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. // Luke 6:36
O Font of Life, unfathomable Divine Mercy, envelop the whole world and empty Yourself upon us. // The Chaplet of Divine Mercy