Several years ago I was preparing to preach a sermon on the rigidness of the Pharisees, and I had folded into each worship bulletin, adhesive labels which said either "I'M ALWAYS RIGHT!" or "I MIGHT BE WRONG." I asked people to stick their labels on their lapels and wear them during the sharing of the peace, and as we shared the peace, the sanctuary was a-buzz with wonderful conversation and laughter. But on the way home that day, I forgot that I was still wearing my label which read I'M ALWAYS RIGHT! At the gas station I received a rather chilly response from the attendant. When I stopped at Roth's grocery store, the clerk seemed almost afraid of me, and our conversation was brief and sterile. And it wasn't until I got home, when Marsha blurted out "You're not always right! In fact, you're rarely right!" And then I remembered the gas station and the grocery store, and I realized the power of being absolutely right. It stifles conversation, it eliminates tolerance, and it erects walls of separation. So these days, I wear a different label: I might be wrong. I might not understand it all. Someone else might have something to offer.